Author Note: Sorry for the short chapter and the looooong delay in update! But I hope you like this chapter anyway... please review!
Zainab's stomach performed a triple-flip as she gazed into the mullah's dark eyes. Whilst she had been lost in her strange dream-memory, he had arrived, accompanied by her father the Sultan and Nasser.
The three of them stood before her now, Khaled directly opposite her, Salahhuddin and Nasser standing slightly behind. Khaled was dressed in his customary attire - flowing black robes emblazoned in silver with the Islamic testimony of faith, the shahada. He gazed down at her, his handsome face unreadable.
Suddenly realizing that she was staring at Khaled and that her father had his eyebrows raised at her, she jerked her eyes away from the mullah, flushing with embarassment.
"Peace be upon you," she greeted them, fighting to keep her voice steady and praying that Khaled had not noticed her staring at him. "Please, be seated." She indicated the cushions, and the men seated themselves. Salahhuddin sat at an angle from which he could observe both his daughter and the mullah; Khaled reclined against a cushion almost directly opposite the princess; and Nasser seated himself almost on the edge of the grand Persian carpet, looking uncomfortable.
Well-trained, the servants appeared unbidden, offering the princess and her guests refreshments. Zainab refused - her stomach threatened to rebel against her if she dared eat anything at this moment - but the men accepted drinks and sweets.
As they ate, the princess gazed at Khalid through her lashes. He looked so... confident, sure of himself, slightly arrogant, as he always did; totally unlike the trembling, nervous pile of jelly she felt like.
No one said anything, and the silence made her want to scream. Biting her lip, she reached for the closest plate of fruit - and at the same moment that her fingers settled on a fig, they brushed against something else... someone's hand. Khaled's hand, which was reaching for the same piece of fruit.
Time stopped, and that split second stretched into an eternity as her gaze lifted in shock and looked straight into Khaled's eyes. Their hands were still touching, the tips of their fingers brushing like butterfly kisses.
And then Khaled's hand moved, curled around the fig, and gently deposited it into the princess's palm. Her fingers closed around it, almost involuntarily; the mullah settled back into his seat and Zainab leaned back against her cushion, dazed. Biting into the fig, her mouth flooded with a delicious sweetness that, combined with the irony, threatened to overwhelm her.
A/N: Next chapter: The princess unveils, and Khaled falls in love! (At least, let's hope so!)