“I am – sorry,” she began, but he moved impatiently towards the door and she could only follow him outside to step into a carriage that was waiting for them.
They drove in silence the short distance to the Palace.
Although it only took a few minutes, Latonia found herself wondering how she could bear a lifetime of feeling that her husband was as unapproachable as the snowy peaks of the Himalayas.
They were received at the Palace with the usual formal ceremony Latonia was now familiar with.
The Rajah, even more resplendent than he had been earlier in the day, was glittering with jewels, but, as before, Latonia felt that there was an evil glint not only in his eyes but in his emeralds, while the rubies that he wore in his turban seemed to burn with an ill-omened fire.
‘I am just being i
