Desert Heat

Chapter 4: WARNED

“Thank you very much.” Lily thanked the young woman who escorted her to her room. She handed the young woman some notes that she had in her pocket, and the young woman seemed more than pleased as she accepted them.

“Thank you, madam.” The young woman thanked Lily, and she shut the door, leaving Lily to herself. Never in her life had Lily thought that she would be spending more than ten hours on a plane talking to a man who had nothing good to say. Gerardo was the type of man that Lily had avoided all her life, and unfortunately, she was stuck with him on a plane.

Fortunately, for her, after trying to catch some sleep, the plane had landed, and she had made her quick escape, hoping that she would never come face-to-face with Gerardo. Her little room was peaceful and beautiful—not exactly a five-star hotel room, but it was fine for her.

It had a TV, bed, table, and bathroom, and that was more than enough for Lily. She looked at her wristwatch and rolled her eyes. Even though she arrived in the early hours of the morning, she was due for work in the next four hours.

She had never been one to complain about working, but there was always a first time for everything, and this was the first. Lily quickly jumped into the shower, and as soon as she dressed herself, she threw herself onto the bed and slept.

The next day, the rest of the crew went over to the hotel to get her. What Lily had thought would be a desert country was more beautiful than she thought it would be. Driving to a different location was a revelation for Lily; the country was rich in culture, and their Arabian dishes were delicious.

The sights of the beautiful country of Hamidin, the people were among the friendliest she had seen, and her only complaint was the heat.

“Wow, this country is hot,” Lily told the translator, who had accompanied herself and the crew to the selected locations. Talking to her, Lily discovered that Christine was a young British woman who had visited Hamidin and had fallen in love with the beautiful country.

“Yes, you are right; that is why I always carry sunscreen with me,” Christine replied, and both women laughed it off. While the rest of the crew set up their equipment for the next interview, Lily could not help but wonder why the country seemed peaceful but the atmosphere was off.

“Hey Christine, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, you can.”

Lily thought about her question for a while, wondering if she had just been imagining that something had been wrong with the people of this country.

“With the last few interviews, I felt as if the people were holding back. I don’t know, but it is as though they are afraid of something,” Lily voiced. Christine hurriedly pulled Lily away from the busy crowd and into the corner.

“I apologize for pulling you away, but we should talk here,” Christine whispered, her action causing Lily to wonder what was going on.

“Why are you pulling me away?” Lily questioned.

“You see, the king just passed on, and for the moment, the country is restless until the heir to the throne is announced. As for the people not being too open to speaking, let’s say that the late Sheikh hated when his people spoke about the intimate details of the country to foreigners.” Lily took what Christine had said to heart and made a note in her mind.

“Thank you for telling me that, otherwise, I would have been in trouble.” Lily thanked Christine as she placed her hand on her chest to feel her beating heart.

“You are welcome, and one last thing: there are parts of the kingdom that you cannot venture into,” Christine warned.

“Wait! How do I know what not to venture into?”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry; there are signs placed almost everywhere,” Christine happily replied to Lily.

The rest of the day went by like a blur, with the entire team finishing right on time. The drive back to her hotel room was peaceful until they came across the biggest building she had ever seen.

“That is the palace; rumor has it that it is made up of thirty-five rooms,” Christine told Lily. As informative as that information was, the beautiful architecture of the building mesmerized Lily.

Lily scanned the many monuments as the car drove to her hotel, and the entire time, her mind had been stuck on the palace, wondering if there was a chance of her ever walking onto those grounds.

“We’re here!” Christine called out, and Lily snapped out of her daydreaming. She turned her face and smiled at Christine.

“Thank you,” Lily told Christine, and she smiled at her and got out of the vehicle. Upon entering her hotel room, Lily pulled out her phone and dialed her mother’s number, but her mother had not picked up the phone.

Her mother had never been the type not to answer her phone, and this left Lily to panic and pace around her room. She tried to dial her mother’s number one last time, but again she did not answer the phone.

**

Aziz’s private jet had arrived at Hamidin, and instead of preparing himself to get off the plane, Aziz sat in his chair and lingered there. He had thought of nothing else for the past two hours than what awaited him at the palace.

Fortunately for Aziz, Fahd knew that it was better not to disturb him. Being back in his home country brought back all the bad memories, the type that Aziz would have wanted to keep hidden.

Deep down, Aziz knew that he was not a coward, and he would not start now. He readied himself and stood from his his chair. Fahd once again, like a gust of wind, appeared before him.

“It is as though you know when I am about to make a move,” Aziz responded.

“My Prince, I have known you since you were a baby, and I believe that I know more about you than you know yourself,” Fahd responded, making Aziz smile.

Aziz knew that Fahd, his bodyguard, was a wise man who had studied for many years and was good at judging people’s character.

“I do not think that you know me well enough; no one knows me well enough,” Aziz responded to Fahd, and Aziz walked past the older man. The door to the private plane was unlocked for him, and Aziz walked out. Even though it was still early in the morning and dark, the first rays of sunlight hit his face, and he knew that he was indeed back home.

At the very bottom of the stairs, a row of armored jeeps awaited him with blue light brigades, the country’s flags on the sides of the car, and guards awaiting him. Seeing those guards awaiting him reminded Aziz of how much he hated being royalty—the thought of people waiting at his disposal.

“Fahd!” Aziz called out as anger overtook him, and like always, Fahd showed up in the blink of an eye and stood behind him.

“Why are these men here? I thought I told you that I did not want them here.” Aziz angrily scolded Fahd.

“I am sorry, my prince; I told your stepmother, but she refused,” Fahd replied to Aziz, and not even this excuse was enough to calm Aziz down.

“So, what you are telling me is that my stepmother had all these men come here to protect me, and you did not bother to tell me.” Aziz gritted his teeth.

“I am sorry, my prince, but I understand why it is that she did that; your father is now late, and there is a lot of political unrest,” Fahd replied. Even though Aziz knew that he was angry, he had to admit that both Fahd and his stepmother were right about the security.

Aziz remembered too many times as a child staying in the palace because there were attempts on the lives of the members of the royal family. With one nod of his head, Aziz was escorted to the car, and soon they made their way to the palace.

The beautiful country that he had left ten years ago was still as beautiful as it had been when he had left. Even though his father was a dictator who ruled the country with an iron fist, even Aziz had to admit that his father had tried to move the country into the twenty-first century.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Fahd asked. As much as Aziz wanted to admit to Fahd that indeed the country looked beautiful, his pride would not allow him to do so. Aziz kept quiet and avoided the question; for now, all he wanted was to get to the palace, console his stepmother, and return to New York.

It had been nearly two hours since they had left the airport, and it now dawned on Aziz how long he had been out of the country because the trip from the airport to the palace was not an easy one.

Aziz was thankful for the fact that the vehicles had air conditioning because if it were not for that, he would have passed out from heatstroke. Upon entering the main city, everyone parted ways as the royal convoys drew closer. Everyone kept looking from afar, trying to see through the tinted bulletproof window.

For the past ten years, Aziz has avoided this kind of attention. If the media ever caught wind of this, the whole of New York would know that he was not just an ordinary man, but also a prince.

“I know you hate it, my prince, but this is your destiny, and you cannot avoid it any longer,” Fahd informed Aziz, but he refused to believe that he would be tied to the royal family all his life.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, but this is not my destiny. As soon as I am done here, I will be leaving for the States; there is nothing for me in this forsaken land,” Aziz replied coldly.

The jeep came to a halt. Aziz looked out the window, and the huge palace gates were now open for them. Aziz looked away, hoping that by not looking, he would forget that he was privileged. The cars continued to move onto the palace property, and at this time, Aziz’s nerves set in.

Do not show them any signs of weakness; otherwise, they will eat you alive, Aziz thought as he fixed himself in his chair. The car came to a halt again, and Fahd turned to face Prince Aziz.

“Welcome home, my prince,” Fahd told Prince Aziz, who did not seem as though he liked being at the palace again.

“Well, thank you; let us get in there so that I can leave as soon as possible,” Aziz replied. The car door was unlocked for them, and when Prince Aziz exited the car, his feet landed on a red carpet, the exclusive royal treatment.

He rolled his eyes as he saw twelve female servants lined up on the sides of the car, awaiting his arrival. Just when he thought the red carpet had ended, the carpet rolled to the palace, as Prince Aziz now realized.

Each young woman looked happy to see that the prince was finally home, but not once did Aziz smile back at them. Without wasting any more of his time, Prince Aziz proceeded to the palace, grinding his teeth as he walked.

Prince Aziz came to a stop, frozen as his eyes rested on an older woman. It was his stepmother, the woman who had raised him when his mother, the queen, had died. It was his stepmother, the second wife of the late king. Aziz remembered how she had stood up to protect him and support his dreams of being his own man.

Now that woman stood before him, older than she had looked before. Her eyes swelled as though she had been crying for ages, but the smile on her face never wavered.

“Welcome home, my son.” She spread out her arms to hold him in her embrace.