“What do you mean, you’re flying to Al-Jerrain? Didn’t you just get to Abyamar, like, yesterday?” Kate’s voice rang through the phone on a wave of exasperation, and Alex grinned.

“Yeah, but there wasn’t any work here. A girl’s gotta eat, after all.”

“You were eating just fine in London,” Kate argued. “Why’d you leave again?”

“Because the kids were impossible and the parents were worse,” Alex reminded her.

“Yeah, but it was London! And they were royals!”

“Trust me, Jan, on the other side of the tabloids, they’re just people. And those people were bad for my soul.”

“Oh, fine,” Kate sighed. “I just wish you had stayed long enough for me to make the trip out to see you.”

“Me or Britain?” Alex teased.

“Can’t it be both?”

“You could always come see me in Al-Jerrain,” Alex pointed out.

“Yeah, but…where’s the romance in sand dunes?” Kate sighed.

“Hopefully with your husband,” Alex said wryly.

“Well, yes, obviously,” Kate said quickly. “Still…a good backdrop could help, you know?”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Not really. Nothing major, anyway. We’re just in a rut, you know? Every day is the same. It’s not bad, you know—he’s great and the kids are great. I just…” She trailed off with a sigh. “I’m just starting to think you had the right idea.”

“What?” Alex laughed in surprise. “Since when? All right, who are you and what have you done with my hand-wringing control freak of a sister?”

Kate chuckled, but the laughter in her voice died quickly. There was a long pause, and Alex heard her take a few breaths, as if she were working up the nerve to say something.

“You’ve met a lot of mothers,” Kate finally said in a rush. “Do you think any of them daydream about—God, this sounds terrible, just don’t judge, okay? Do you think any of the mothers you work for ever just feel like…running away?”

She sounded wistful and guilty, and Alex’s heart went out to her.

“Of course they do,” she said firmly. “What do you think they hire me for?”

This made Kate laugh, which eased Alex’s concern slightly. If she could still laugh, then the funk hadn’t taken hold entirely.

“So, you’re telling me I need a nanny?”

“I’m telling you you need to relax. Do something you like to do. Drop the kids off at daycare once in a while and go to a class. It’ll be good for you. For all of you. Kids need a change of scenery, too, you know.”

“I guess so,” Kate said thoughtfully. “But you know how I feel about strangers watching my kids—I just know that they’re going to…”

“Do it wrong?” Alex finished wryly.

“Well, yes!” Kate admitted defensively. “I put a lot of time into those kids, you know.”

“I know,” Alex said soothingly. “And you’re doing a great job of it. But really, Kate, for a couple hours a week, all you need is someone who will keep them alive.”

“I guess,” she said reluctantly. “What I really need is someone like you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m taken,” Alex laughed.

“Just my luck,” Kate said playfully. She paused, then continued in a more serious tone. “Are you sure about this job, though?”

“As sure as I ever am about anything,” Alex said lightly.

“Yeah, like that makes me feel better, Little Miss Impulse Control Issues. Tell me about the job. “

“Why, so you can tell me all the reasons I shouldn’t have taken it?”

“Oh, come on,” Kate whined. “Let me live vicariously through your Arabian adventures.”

“Al-Jerrain adventures,” Alex corrected, biding her time. She already knew what Kate’s reaction would be, and she didn’t want to kill her elevated mood with an argument.

She yawned audibly, covering her hesitation.

“You know, Kate, I would love to get into all the nitty gritty details, but if I don’t pack and go to bed right now, I’ll never wake up in time to catch my flight in the morning.”

“Ugh, fine,” Kate said petulantly. “But if you don’t inject some romance into my life soon, I might just hop on a plane to anywhere and spend my life flirting with cabana boys.”

“Go kiss Charlie; you’ll feel better,” Alex said lightly. “Seriously, being a wife and mother can’t be that bad.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kate sighed. “I’ll let the parents know about your change in plans.”

“Thanks,” Alex said gratefully. “Last thing I need is a Mom lecture.”

“Running interference as we speak,” Kate said wryly. “Get some rest.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you soon.”

As Alex hung up, she blew out a heavy breath. Kate’s curiosity was justified, but it made her anxious. She knew that if she’d been perfectly honest with her sister about the specifics—or lack thereof—that Kate would have gone full-protective-big-sister-mode and would have tried to talk her out of it.

She didn’t want to be talked out of it. The pay was exceptional for looking after a single child, for one thing. For another, the thought of working for the same family as the striking Zaiman made her stomach knot up in a delicious way—the same way it did when she took the first step onto a plane going somewhere new.

She wondered what the family must be like. In all of her travels, she had never once been interviewed by anyone other than the parents. But, she conceded, she had never worked in this part of the world before.

“New country, new customs,” she told herself. “And that goes for the secrecy, too. Red flags don’t mean the same thing if you’ve moved to red-flag-land. Or something.”

Her little pep talk didn’t alleviate her second-hand anxiety much, so Alex threw herself into packing and preparing for her trip the following day. By the time she turned in, she was feeling better about the whole thing, for no real reason except that she had managed to silence her inner Kate. Her gut was still telling her that it was the right decision, and when she wasn’t faced with Kate’s influence, Alex trusted her gut implicitly.

* * *

The next morning, Alex stood squinting in the morning sun, waiting for her ride. She scolded herself for not getting details about who would be picking her up, or what kind of car to look for. Several taxis and private cars pulled in, but none of the drivers approached her. Checking her phone and watch told her that she was still early, which made her even more restless. A quick walk to the café tempted her, but she resisted. She placated her restless feet by pacing a circle around her luggage.

A sleek black sedan pulled in at nine thirty on the dot. It glistened darkly in the sunlight, clean and waxed to a mirror-shine in spite of the dusty roads. To her delight, it stopped directly in front of her and the smiling driver greeted her with a subtle bow.

“Ms. O’Hare?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I am to take you to the airport. Are these your things?”

“Yes, that’s everything,” Alex said quickly, stooping to pick up her suitcase.

The driver waved her off, clicking his tongue, and opened the back door for her. Surprised and pleased at the formal treatment, Alex slid inside. The soft leather was cool to the touch, and the whole car smelled like money.

The driver loaded her bags, stashing them in the trunk behind her. Cool air blew from the vents inside the car and slid easily over her freckled skin, refreshing as a drink of water after a hike through the desert. She could certainly get used to this sort of thing.

Before long, they were on their way. Since she hadn’t had the opportunity to see much of Abyamar in the two days she’d been there, Alex spent the ride gazing out the window. Off of the main street, the town was very slow-paced and bare. Dusty clay buildings bustled with mothers, and children played in the streets, dodging beggars and stray dogs as they chased their balls.

It was a pretty little town, but she sensed that she would have grown bored of it rather quickly. The novelty would have worn thin within weeks, and after that, it would have been simply a matter of meeting her contractual obligations until she had the chance to move on. It was better this way, she decided. She hoped that Al-Jerrain would have more long-term enticements to capture her restless attention.

The ride wasn’t a long one, and soon, she found herself navigating the airport. The driver was good enough to help her up to the gate, translating for her and guiding her, not to mention managing her baggage. Being a member of domestic staff herself, this treatment was both unusual and thrilling, and she was almost sad to see him go. But he bid her farewell, and she barely had a chance to thank him before a flight attendant led her away.

“Your seat,” the attendant told her, gesturing at what might as well have been an armchair bolted to the cabin. Alex’s eyes bulged. She had never flown first class before.

“Are you sure?” she asked, showing her ticket once more.

“Of course,” the attendant said, her smile reflected in her sparkling brown eyes. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

I think my luck’s changing, Alex thought to herself. This family must really be loaded.

She sank into the comforting cradle of the first-class seat, letting her body unwind like a cat’s into the soft upholstery. Oh, yeah. Way better than coach.

She sighed happily and contemplated taking a nap; she had barely slept the night before, and had been up with the sun anxiously awaiting her ride. She didn’t have the chance to decide, though. As soon as the plane hit its cruising altitude, a second attendant was at her side.

“Would you care for a drink, miss? Mimosa, perhaps?”

Alex grinned. “How long is the flight?”

“Two hours, miss.”

“Then, yes, I would love a mimosa,” Alex said, her voice quivering on the edge of a laugh.

“Any snacks? Cashews, chocolate?”

“Yes, please!”

Alex, delighted as she was, couldn’t help but wonder if this was simply first-class treatment, or if it was something more. She was beginning to feel like some sort of celebrity, and the longer the plane ride, the more she began to suspect that her new employers were rather more important than Zaiman had let on.

The attendants pampered her, meeting her every want and need before she had even expressed it. Pillows, hot food, headphones, magazines…anything she could possibly desire. By the time the plane began its descent into Al-Jerrain, Alex was almost disappointed that it was over.

She soon discovered, however, that the end of the flight was in no way the end of her preferential treatment. As she exited the plane, she found an older gentleman waiting for her with a sign bearing her name. Emboldened by half a day of royal treatment, she marched up to him and held out her hand.

“Hello! I’m Alex O’Hare.”

“Bassam,” he said with a shallow bow as he grasped her fingers. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You as well.”

They collected her things and made their way through the airport, which was busier and glossier than the one she had left behind. She knew by now that airports rarely reflected the towns they represented with any accuracy, but as she stepped through the doors into the glittering city, she decided that Al-Jerrain was much more her idea of an exciting Middle Eastern destination than Abyamar had been.

Official-looking buildings lined the streets, their roofs shaped like merengue puffs which twisted into towering spires at the top. Intricately carved arched doorways gave each minor building an enchanting air of mystery, and the high wall in the distance held the promise of historical intrigue. She daydreamed, imagining an ancient war between Al-Jerrain and some mythical army which was only won due to the sturdy stone barrier.

“Do you need to make any stops before I take you to the palace, miss?” Bassam asked, making the daydream disappear.

“I would love a coffee,” she admitted, suddenly regretting the mimosa. “I need to get my bearings and find my feet before meeting the family. Do you know a good place?”

“I know a beautiful place,” he told her, his eyes twinkling. “A lovely café near the river, where the very best of Al-Jerrain is on display. Would you like to go there?”

“I’d love to,” she said eagerly. There was nothing she liked better than to get her fingers on the pulse of a new city.

As they drove through the streets, she was struck by the city’s exquisite beauty. Trees blossomed along the road, interspersed with fountains. Street art grew almost organically along the walls of the buildings and skated down the broad sidewalks. Gardens filled with sweet blooms dazzled her eyes and nose alike, and the rich culture of the country was clearly and proudly displayed wherever her dizzy eyes flitted.

It was almost overwhelming, and she was glad when the driver pulled up to a pretty outdoor café. He helped translate for her as she ordered her coffee, then ordered one of his own.

“Do you mind company?” he asked, gesturing to one of the mosaic-topped tables.

“Not at all,” she said with a smile. “I rather appreciate it.”

They sat, and Alex took it all in. The winding green river reflected the bone-white arches of the buildings lining the far side. It was busier here, and livelier than Abyamar had been. Older children played with rafts in the river, while their younger counterparts ran along the bank, shouting back and forth.

She inhaled, breathing in the wild but not so strange aroma of the new place. Unfamiliar flowers tangled with the warm, familiar scent of roasting beans emanating from the café behind her. Women and men swept by in a parade of fashions suited for various functions, from the utterly traditional to the ultra-modern. There was a freedom here that she hadn’t expected, a passionate individuality which resonated with her innermost self.

“It’s a beautiful place,” Alex said with a sigh. “You said you were taking me to a palace…was that the right word? I don’t want to assume—differences in language, and all that.”

“Not a problem at all,” Bassam said with a smile. “Were you not told who you would be working for?”

“Not really,” Alex admitted rather sheepishly. “I was seduced by the salary.”

“As was I,” Bassam laughed. “He is a very generous employer.”

Alex raised a brow. “He? Singular?”

Bassam grinned at her and winked. “Indeed! Have you served important people before, Ms. O’Hare?”

“Alex is fine,” she said, growing a bit flustered with the formality. “And yes, I have, back in London. I’m not entirely sure how my new employer compares to a duke…come to think of it, I don’t know much of anything about Al-Jerrain’s government.”

“Eh, it’s not much different from other monarchies.” He settled back comfortably in his chair, reminding her of how her uncle sat when he was about to tell a story. “The bin-Tulebs are the ruling family. They are the leaders of the government. At this moment, there are five who are active. Their, um…” He waved a hand in the air, searching for the word. “Inferiors?”

“Subordinates?” Alex suggested.

“Yes! The subordinates can vote, but the bloodline always gets the final word on anything.”

“So…will I be…?”

“Working in a palace,” Bassam interrupted. “Better not to say in public,” he added in an undertone. “You were given that instruction, I hope?”

“Oh…yes,” she said, her face heating. “I almost forgot. Is that a…normal requirement?”

“What is normal? A normal lunch for a gazelle is an extraordinarily bad day for a lion, after all. But it’s nothing to worry about. He takes very good care of his staff; you will see.”

Alex liked Bassam more and more. She put her fears to rest, deciding that if someone as comfortable and down to earth as Bassam was happy working for the mystery man, he couldn’t be too difficult. Of course, driving was a far cry from nannying, but in household service, it really was the family who made the job; a terrible family would make for a terrible employment, and vice versa. The details and tasks of the position were always secondary.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while as Alex allowed herself to become acclimated to her new environment. It was easier than she had expected; though the backdrop was different, the energy of the town beat in a rhythm she was accustomed to. By the time she had finished her coffee, she felt secure in herself and ready to face whatever came next.

“Shall we?” Bassam asked.

“We shall,” Alex answered, tossing her hair.

He drove her through the city, winding through the most beautiful parts of town. A zoo took up miles of road on one side, and Alex glued her face to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of some magnificent creature. As if deliberately to please her, a giraffe poked its freckled face over the fence and winked its huge brown eye at her.

“What a wonderful place,” she sighed happily. “Oh, I could spend hours just looking at everything!”

Bassam grinned, taking obvious pride in his hometown.

Not far beyond the zoo, he turned off onto a narrow street which wound through sparsely populated foothills until it ended at a massive gate. Bassam touched a button on the dashboard, and the gates swung open.

“Here we are,” Bassam said warmly. “Welcome to the minor Palace bin-Tuleb.”