The Sheikh and the Servant by Sonja Spencer

could not let him run off on his adventures alone,” he sighed.
    “I remember the days of my youth as well, Karam. I remember finding my way into many troubles which my father had to help me out of. Go on; please tell me more.”
    Karam waved a hand. “Those tales are for another time. Just know that he lived life to its fullest, a smile always clear upon his face, his zeal to live infectious.”
    A small frown formed on Noori’s face. “Then why is he so serious now? I do not think I have witnessed hardly a smile upon his face since he purchased me.”
    “Ah, they are there. As I said, you must learn what to look for. Now his smiles are closely guarded and often reserved for his children,” Karam said. “But you can see them in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. Responsibility will do that to a man. Crushing responsibility coupled with personal loss.”
    “I feel as if I have no right to ask this. But can you please tell me about his loss?” Noori leaned closer.
    Karam sighed. “Our lord has a spirit shot with iron, I know, to have survived such losses as his. First, his father was assassinated. In the coup that resulted, his mother was gravely wounded, and his wife was killed. It was only a heavenly blessing that hid sweet Sawsan that night. Still, I feared for our lord’s sanity.”
    Noori’s voice held a great sadness. “And Massarah? Where was he?”
    Karam’s face dropped, and he was silent for a long moment. When he raised his head, his eyes were watery. “Our master consolidated his hold on the region and life settled down. To his embarrassment, his mother arranged for him to meet the daughter of a minor sheikh. He still needed an heir, after all. I remember him then, incensed, three years having passed since his wife’s death. But still, he obeyed his mother’s wishes.”
    Noori reached out a hand, squeezing Karam’s shoulder in consolation. “There is no need to continue if you do not wish to,” he whispered.
    Karam patted Noori’s hand. “I believe he truly loved her. She was a simple village girl, loving and forgiving.” He shook his head. “But the heavens bless, and they take away. And so it was. Thaqib died giving birth to Massarah just three years ago.”
    Tears dotted Noori’s cheeks, and he wiped at them, offering a watery smile. “Our lord is indeed a strong man; it seems as if the heavens are preparing him for greatness.”
    Karam chuckled. “Our lord is the best man I know. I feared for him; he was silent for weeks, although he immediately acknowledged Massarah. But I should have known better than to fear his spirit broken.” Karam shrugged. “So you see, your question is indeed complicated. The sheikh is twice-widowed and a prince of his people, proven time and again in battle. I do not know if he will risk his scarred heart again, for either a wife or a consort.”
    “And to a match that not only his people, but the heavens themselves would despise.” Noori’s was rough, but accepting of his fate.
    “The sheikh broke with his uncle soon after Thaqib’s death. He said that no power worth his worship would punish one man so. But he encourages the people to worship as they will, and so avoids the censure of the religious sect,” Karam said slowly. “I would not be so quick to see your chances as nonexistent.”
    Noori shook his head sorrowfully. “I will not bait him to give his heart again. I would not be the cause of more heartache for such a noble man.”
    Karam patted his hand. “You can love him, as I do, as the people do. There is no wrongdoing there. Already your presence cheers him, and even if that is all there ever is, I am eternally grateful for you.”

 
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 6
     
     
    When Noori rushed into the large pavilion the sheikh used for hearings and official business, his lord was sitting silently, tapping one finger on the low table as he frowned at the papers, the visiting dignitary watching him hopefully. Noori bowed deeply before