Catching my breath in Bahrain

"Pull up right over there on the tarmac, not far from the plane," I said, pointing toward the sleek aircraft parked under the open sky.

Ronan glanced sideways at me, his fingers tightening slightly on the wheel as he eyed the surrounding perimeter. "You're sure about leaving the car right out in the open like this?"

"Positive," I assured him with a calm smile. "Airport security is going to take care of the vehicle while we're away."

Ronan nodded, easing the car into a stop about fifty yards from the plane wing before shutting off the engine. The quiet hum of the dashboard died down, replaced by the muffled roar of jet engines in the distance. We both hopped out into the warm tarmac air and walked around to the trunk, popping it open to pull our bags out.

As I pulled my suitcase out of the trunk, my eyes caught a familiar figure standing near the mobile perimeter line. Marlon was wearing a crisp, dark airport security uniform. I caught his eye and gave him a subtle nod. Getting him onto these grounds was no small feat—back in both Russia and Italy, he carries a heavy criminal record, and half the local authorities here in Canada would love nothing more than to throw him in a cell. But against the odds, I’d managed to pull all the right strings and get him exactly where we needed him. Thankfully, he is here under my name as the Prime Minister and will be protected under my name, but just for this trip. The Canadian government was very hesitant to allow him here, but with my vouching for him, they allowed him.

We closed the trunk and walked together toward the boarding stairs. A small team of Customs agents was stationed right on the tarmac, equipped with mobile scanners to verify each passenger.

"Passports, please," one of the agents said politely as we approached.

Ronan and I pulled out our diplomatic passports and handed them over. The agents swiped them through the reader, checked the digital displays, and offered a professional nod before handing them back. "You're all set. Safe travels."

"Thank you," I replied, tucking my passport securely into my jacket.

Ronan nodded his head as he pocketed his passport.

We made our way up the steps and into the cabin. As soon as we stepped inside, we were warmly greeted by the cabin crew, as well as three tall, vigilant security officers standing near the galley. Barb had handpicked all three of them specifically for this assignment, knowing exactly what kind of backup I might need.

Ronan immediately stepped closer to the head of the security detail, his brow furrowed with unconcealed concern. "Are you sure that the three of you are going to be enough for this? Given the circumstances, I want to make sure every angle is covered."

"Relax, Ronan. We're going to be perfectly fine with just the three of us. This is a four-day trip max. And if I’m being completely honest with you...we're a lot safer traveling with the Prime Minister than she is with us. Her skills in security outmatches ours in a heartbeat."

Ronan stared at him for a second, clearly not put at ease by the reassurance. I couldn't help myself—I let out a soft chuckle and shook my head.

"Come on, Ronan," I said lightly, nudging his shoulder. "Let's find our seats."

We showed our boarding passes to the flight attendant standing near the aisle. She checked the seat numbers, handed the tickets back with a pleasant smile, and said, "Welcome aboard. Enjoy your flight."

"Thanks," Ronan muttered, still mulling over the security guard's comment.

We navigated down the aisle just a hair as we located our seats and lifted our bags into the overhead bin before closing it shut. Over the next thirty minutes, the rest of the two hundred passengers streamed in, filling up the remaining seats, stowing away their carry-ons in the overhead bins, and settling in for the journey.

Before long, the cabin doors were sealed shut. The plane taxied out onto the runway, built up speed, and lifted gracefully into the clouds. Within twenty minutes, the seatbelt sign chimed, and we were smoothly cruising high in the air.

Ronan leaned back against his headrest, turned his head toward me, and unbuckled his seatbelt slightly to get comfortable.

"Alright," Ronan asked, leaning closer so his voice wouldn't carry across the aisle. "How long is this flight, exactly? And how much of a layover are we looking at when we land?"

I adjusted my seat, looked over at him, and answered calmly, "It's going to be a fourteen-hour direct flight."

Ronan gulped, his eyes widening slightly as the full weight of fourteen uninterrupted hours in the air hit him.

"Barb picked this particular plane out. It has the safest rating," I said, settling comfortably into my leather chair. Then, with a casual glance toward the window, I added, "By the way, you’ll have a new vehicle when we get back. Look out the window."

Frowning in confusion, Ronan leaned over and peered down through the oval pane glass. Down below on the tarmac, right where we had parked only minutes ago, a bright column of black smoke billowed into the afternoon sky. His vehicle—parked exactly where he had left it—was completely engulfed in vibrant orange flames.

He stared at the blaze for a long, silent beat, his face a picture of stunned disbelief.

"A newer car will bring higher insurance rates," he muttered dryly, leaning back into his seat without breaking his deadpan composure.

"You’ll have the same rates as before," I said smoothly, leaning over to adjust my air vent. "I had this planned out as well. By the time that the insurance is done with the investigation, they will see that it was a self-implosion and as an act of the Vehicle Gods."

Ronan turned his head slowly to look at me, squinting. "How do you know this?"

"Trust me on this," I replied with a wry smile. "Oh, go through your bag and find the packaging for compression socks. They’ll help prevent against blood clots and DVTs. Walking around the plane is also beneficial on a journey this long."

Ronan reached down under his seat, pulled his personal bag onto his lap, and unzipped the front pocket. He pulled out a neat plastic package containing a pair of snug, charcoal-gray socks.

"Are you wearing compression socks?" Ronan asked, eyeing the package dubiously before glancing down at my footwear.

"I am wearing one of a handful custom made pair but it’s hard to tell," I explained as I pinched the high tech weave and pulled a little bit. "They're custom-fitted for pressure point relief and circulatory support as well as my skin tone. As you can see, I can wear shorts but I can also wear skirts, dresses or even pants over them."

Ronan chuckled softly, shaking his head as he unwrapped his pair. "A burning car, the Vehicle Gods, and custom compression socks. Just another ordinary trip with you."

"Of sorts," I said, resting my head back against the cushion as the aircraft glided smoothly through the atmosphere. "You should put those socks on sooner rather than later."

Ronan let out a quiet sigh of agreement, tearing open the plastic packaging and unrolling the dark fabric. "Fair point. Fourteen hours is a long time."

Satisfied, I reached over to the side panel of my seat and pressed the recline button. The heavy leather chair smoothly leaned back, easing the tension in my lower back. The overhead cabin lights dimmed to a soft amber glow, and the low, steady vibration of the engines created a soothing background hum.

I shifted in my seat, adjusted my seat a bit so I was reclining a bit, pulled the blanket up over shoulders, and closed my eyes. Within minutes, the fatigue of the long prep and high-stakes arrangements washed over me, and I fell asleep.

I slept through dinner and breakfast services. About an hour before we were due to land, the flight attendants woke both myself and Ronan up.

Amber, one of the flight attendants, stepped up to my seat and motioned toward the front of the cabin. "Follow me," she said politely.

She led me to a private shower that I was able to use. Resting on a counter inside was a freshly pressed change of clothes.

"Barb sent clothes for you ahead of your arrival," Amber explained, pointing to the garments. "She also included a very lightweight scarf for you to use to cover your hair when you disembark."

"Thanks for letting me use the shower, Amber."

She nodded silently and left the room so I could have some privacy.

I turned toward the shower to turn it on, but only seconds later, there was a knock on the door. I recognized the rhythm of the knock immediately—it was Armand's. Armand is the head of my security detail.

“Come in,” I called out as I began to strip.

“Ma’am? You’re partially naked.”

“Yeah, Armand, I know,” I said as I continued to strip. “This isn’t the first nor the last time you’ll see me naked.”

“I don’t mind but you need to give me a heads up.”

“I need to?” I asked as I turned the water on. “Or should I?”

“Should.”

“Ok. So, what’s up?” I asked.

“Just a reminder to be quick as Ronan, Joel, Roger and I want to shower and dress in fresh clothes before we land….which is in about an hour.”

“I’m well aware, Armand. I can’t enter Bahrain dressing how I normally dress,” I said. “Not only do I fear that I smell like sweat and airplane, I need to show respect by wearing an ankle length linen skirt, a linen shirt that covers my shoulders, collar bone and my elbows and though not required, but I’d like to have clean hair so I can put a scarf over my hair.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

“Is that all? I’d love to take a shower and be ready before there’s no time for you guys to shower.”

Armand nodded and left as I hopped into the shower. I could smell the scent of bleach as I got into the shower stall. I washed my hair twice and let the conditioner soak into my hair as I washed my body with a hotel sized bar of soap. As I washed my body, I made a mental note to ask Amber what brand of shampoo and conditioner were in the pumps attached to the shower wall. I rinsed off the soap after scrubbing myself twice and rinsed the conditioner out of my hair. After turning off the water, I grabbed a towel to towel dry my hair followed by my body. I found a little basket that I thought was for used towels rather than garbage.

Barb was too good to me when she sent my clothes ahead. She packed a hair brush, deodorant/antiperspirant, toothpaste and toothbrush as well as cotton panties. I brushed my teeth then my hair, dressed, applied the deodorant/antiperspirant and made adjustments to my clothes before packing up my dirty clothes and my Eastern style sandals in the same bag that Barb sent my clean clothes in. On my way out, I slid on some Western style sandals and grabbed the scarf.

When I opened the door, Ronan, Roger, Joel and Armand were in line just outside. Armand gave me a look that said: “That took enough time!” I winked at him and headed back to my seat. I opened up the overhead bin and shoved the bag into my suitcase before shutting the overhead bin door closed. I sat down and got as comfortable as I could with twenty minutes to spare before landing.

I have no idea how Ronan, Roger, Joel and Armand all showered one by one, dressed in fresh clothes and sat back in their seats three minutes prior to us landing at the Bahraini airstrip.

The seatbelt sign chimed above us, and the cabin lights adjusted to full brightness for arrival. Outside the window, the sunlit expanse of the Arabian Gulf gave way to the pale, golden coastline of Bahrain. As the wheels touched down on the runway, a gentle bump rattled through the fuselage before the plane settled into its reverse-thrust deceleration.

Once the aircraft came to a complete stop, I unclasped my seatbelt, stood up, and opened the overhead bin to retrieve my bags, while the men retrieved theirs from their respective bins. I arranged the lightweight scarf over my hair, tucking the end loosely over my shoulder. Armand, Joel, and Roger collected their weapons and gear and immediately fell into standard escort formation around me, looking impeccably sharp and fully alert, while Ronan walked three steps behind us.

The cabin door hissed open, allowing the intense, dry warmth of the Middle Eastern air to sweep into the air-conditioned cabin. As we stepped out onto the tarmac, we were greeted by King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa and his retinue: Salman bin Hamad Al Khalifa, Nasser bin Hamad Al Khalifa and Khalid bin Hamad Al Khalifa.

"Your Majesty," I said, stepping forward with a warm, respectful smile. "It is a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for welcoming us to Bahrain."

"The pleasure is entirely ours, Prime Minister," King Hamad replied warmly. "Welcome. I trust your long flight was comfortable?"

"Very comfortable, thank you," I replied.

I then extended verbal greetings to Salman bin Hamad Al Khalifa, Nasser bin Hamad Al Khalifa, and Khalid bin Hamad Al Khalifa, each greeting me in return with smooth diplomatic warmth.

"Allow me to introduce the team traveling with me," I said, gesturing toward the men behind me. "This is Armand, Roger, and Joel—they are my security detail. And this is Ronan, my driver."

King Hamad, Prince Salman, Prince Nasser, and Prince Khalid stepped forward and shook hands with Armand, Roger, Joel, and Ronan, offering brief words of welcome to each of them.

"Please, right this way," King Hamad said, gesturing toward the nearby customs terminal where Customs officers stood waiting.

We walked together over to the station. Ronan, Armand, Roger, Joel, and I pulled out our diplomatic passports and handed them over to the waiting Customs agents. The agents reviewed the documents, logged the entries into their system, and returned the passports with polite nods. Within minutes, all five of us were officially cleared to enter.

As Ronan, Armand, Roger, Joel, and I pocketed our passports into a secure spot on our bodies, we were escorted to a vehicle.

"You will be joining me in my car as we head to Riffa Palace," King Hamad said as we walked toward the vehicle. "From there, if you need or want to travel, Ronan will be your driver. However, Ronan should have applied for a Bahraini driver's license, but this time it will be forgiven as you are an honored guest."

Ronan paled. I patted his shoulder to provide some comfort before speaking up.

"I apologize, Your Majesty," I said. "I was the one who rushed Ronan's diplomatic passport and completely forgot to ask him to apply for a temporary Bahraini driver's license."

"I completely understand."

"Thank you, Hamad," I said. "Who shall I be staying with during my stay?"

The King nodded his head in understanding. "You will be staying with my wife, Princess Sabika bint Ibrahim Al Khalifa," he added.

"And what about my security detail?" I asked.

"It is forbidden for men to spend the night with women who aren't their wives," the King explained.

"Even if they are a part of their security team?" I asked.

The King relented slightly. "During the night, one security team member of yours will be stationed just outside where you will be sleeping, and one of my security detail will keep him company."

Without saying a word, I just raised an eyebrow.

"To keep each man committed to their job," the King explained.

Armand whispered to me, "Ma’am, it is very dangerous to question the King in a country where women are punished for questioning a man, let alone a king."

The King turned around and addressed Armand directly. "Since she and I have a friendship and she is highly trusted, she can speak her mind privately. However, when it comes to something in a public forum, you don't question me." He looked back at me and further explained, "After each public forum, a few trusted people, yourself, and I meet privately, and you are more than welcome to question him."

"Sometimes these conversations can be heated," I stated, "but at the end of the day, there is always respect."

The rest of the ride to Riffa Palace was quiet. When the driver parked at the front entrance of the palace, we all piled out—Hamad first, followed by his one security detail, Armand, Roger, Joel, and Ronan.

The royal attendants immediately stepped forward and took our bags out of the trunk of the Range Rover. Hamad spoke to the royal attendants in Bahraini Arabic, instructing them on which bags were to go where.

"Your luggage will be delivered directly to your quarters," King Hamad said, gesturing toward the main entrance.

"And my detail?" I asked, looking back at the men.

"They will be taken care of as well," Hamad replied. "They will be staying just on the other side of this wall, no more than twenty yards from you."

"That works," Armand said with a subtle nod of approval.

We were escorted inside and guided toward the wing where we would be sleeping. Once I made sure my bags were safely brought to Princess Sabika’s quarters and handled by her attendants, Armand and I broke away and began walking down the long, arch-lined corridor toward Khalid's hallway.

The marble floor echoed beneath our footsteps, but Armand couldn't keep his mouth shut for more than a few paces. He kept his head up and his eyes scanning, but his jaw stayed tight as he grumbled under his breath.

"Twenty yards on the other side of a stone wall," Armand muttered quietly, adjusting the cuff of his suit coat. "I don't care if it's royal protocol or cultural tradition, ma'am. Having a wall and two sets of guards between us and your door goes against every security protocol I've ever written for you. If something happens, those extra fifteen seconds could be—"

"I totally understand where you are coming from, Armand," I sighed. "You’re here, Roger and Joel as well, to protect me. There is a door in the wall separating us. An alarm would blare if there was some kind of incident. Thankfully, it’s unlocked 24/7, however Hamad would let it slide that you and the guys came rushing over if there was an emergency. He understands it as he has four wives and five daughters. Please remember that we are guests here and we have to follow protocols."

"I understand," he said. "I don’t like it but I understand."

I leaned in closer to him, keeping my voice down so it wouldn't carry off the high carved ceilings of the palace wing.

"As for Prince Khalid? Anyone who works security outside of who he has retained is forbidden when it comes to me," I told him quietly. "Because more often than not, Khalid and I have sex when I am here. If my security detail were standing right outside that door, you’d be barging in to save me every time I scream in pleasure—whereas his security detail knows not to react unless I scream a specific code word. Also, it helps to have only his security on hand when I am here and is beneficial to both the prince and I. If you were around while he and I were fucking, his two wives would be aware of the situation. His guards are discrete when it comes to turning his wives away from near where he and I are at any given moment."

Armand froze for a fraction of a second, his head turning slowly to look at me. His professional, stoic expression flickered as he processed the information, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"Well," Armand grunted after a long beat, clearing his throat and looking straight ahead again. "I suppose that is... a pragmatic protocol, ma'am."

"It's a practical one," I replied smoothly, a faint smirk playing on my lips as we reached the arched entrance to Khalid's corridor. "Now relax, Armand. Everything is under control."

I knocked and Khalid welcomed me to his hallway.

"Welcome, Deppgrl. It’s good to see you again," he said as he wrapped me into a tight hug. "Who is this?"

"Khalid, this is Armand. He is the head of my security," I said. "I informed him of your protocol when I’m in your area of any palace we’re in."

"Armand, it’s a pleasure to meet you," the prince said as he stretched his hand out to shake hands with Armand. "Your prime minister will be in excellent hands while she’s with me."

"So I’ve been told," Armand said dryly. "How long will she be with you?"

"Until we are both satisfied," the prince said as he looked at me and winked. "It varies but be prepared to wait several hours."

"How will I know that you’re done, ma’am?"

"I will text you fifteen minutes before we’re done."

Armand nodded his head, turned around and left in a huff.

"Come on in, Deppgrl. Would you like anything to eat or drink before we catch up," Khalid said as he kissed and nuzzled my neck. "Yes, I have been tested for STIs and I’m negative. I’ll grab the papers while you’re catching your breath. My father said that you’ve had a busy twenty four hours."

"Alqahwat mae alsukar walkarimat satakun mithaliatan," I said in Arabic knowing his staff would understand. Coffee with cream and sugar, please. "Thank you."

A man nodded and left to get me the coffee I requested.

"It looks like your lessons worked well," he said as he adjusted his hard dick in his thobe. "I’ll be back in a few minutes with the paperwork but after I shower."

"The lessons you taught definitely took," I said. "Sounds good. Maybe I can help you when you get back?"

"That would be great," he said. "I need a ton of help. I love my wives but they are jealous of each other."

We laughed as he headed back to his office and his bathroom. His attendant arrived seconds later and handed me the coffee in a fine China tea cup. I thank him as I am careful not to touch him as Islam is strict about non-related men and women touching.

"Thank you," I said as I took a sip. I was impressed with this man’s skill. "The coffee is amazing. It has the perfect amount of cream and sugar. I appreciate you and your talent, sir."

He smiled real big and left.

"Perfect coffee, huh?" Khalid asked. "Why doesn’t anyone say that about the coffee I make?"

"Many women say that about your dick, Khalid," I said with a smile as I finished the coffee. "Not everyone can make the perfect cup of coffee."

"I’ll take that over making good coffee," he said as he took the tea cup from my hand and placed it on a table. "Is here ok or do you want more privacy?"

"It’s always about privacy but I know as the son of the king, you still get much privacy."

"A less than important son."

"A son nonetheless."

Khalid took my hand and led me to his room. On his bed, he had years of STI testing printed out. With a raised eyebrow, I looked at him.

"I went to independent labs throughout the world under a fake name," Khalid explained. "If I stayed here, not only would my father the king be livid but the doctors and labs would lie to me. These are accurate."

I nodded my head slightly as I read his STI results. His results were perfect and I felt that they were too perfect until I stumbled on a test from four years ago. A lab showed that he was positive for gonorrhea but the following few days show from the same lab as well as other labs that he was negative for everything including gonorrhea. Before I could ask him anything, he answered me.

"I know. It doesn’t look good but I couldn’t just trust this test," he said. "There are very few women that I am sexually active with. You are one of them."

"What about the others? And no, I don’t mean your wives."

"When it comes to women who aren’t my wives, I always use a condom."

"Always?" I asked. "You don’t with me."

"That is true. Ninety seven percent of the time, when I am fucking other women, I use condoms. I don’t when it comes to my wives and you. And we both know it’s impossible spiritually and legally for my wives to fuck other men."

I nodded as I flipped through the rest of his results. Yesterday was the most recent.

"I’m satisfied with these results," I said as I tossed his results into the fireplace. I stared as the papers were engulfed by flames.

Khalid took his robe off and walked towards me. I noticed that he filled out and has become more muscular since the last time I saw him five years ago. As I was checking out his physique, my eyes landed on his incredible dick.

"Like what you see, Madam Prime Minister?"

"Always," I said as I took the scarf off of my head and stripped out of the clothes that Barb sent ahead to the plane for me.

"Fire engine red is a good look on you," he said. "I’ve always had a thing for red heads and dirty blondes."

I laughed hard and loud.

"Good for you that I’m both," I said. "My natural hair is dirty blonde."

"No wonder I’ve always wanted you," he said as he caressed my large tits in his hands. "You’re awfully perky. New tits?"

"Same old tits but just had a lift a few weeks ago," I said. "Next surgery is larger tits."

"After you heal after that surgery, let me know. I will come visit."

"Oh, I will," I said as I moved to his desk, knocking everything off of it.

"You’re destructive."

"Wait til you see what I do to headboards."

Khalid raised an eyebrow as he walked over to me. I noticed a little bit of precum on the tip of his dick.

"You better get over here before you waste your load," I said as I spread my legs open for him.

In four large strides, Khalid was standing between my spread legs. Seconds later, his 10 ½ inch long, 4 ½ inch wide dick was in my tight pussy. I moaned in pleasure in his ear.

"Fuck yes, Khalid," I moaned. "I’m far from fragile."

"Your sweet pussy is tighter than I remember," he moaned as he started thrusting his dick in and out of me. Surgery?"

"Yessssssssss," I moan. "Vaginoplasty and a perineoplasty. One to tighten my pussy and the other to make the opening of my pussy smaller."

"My gods, Deppgrl," he grunted as he picked up speed and force of his fucking me. "I don’t care why you made the decisions for these surgeries but I am going to take full advantage of your decisions."

Khalid continued to fuck me harder and faster than he had before, cumming in my pussy repeatedly. As often as he was filling my cervix with his cum, I was cumming on his dick as often.

"Fuck me until my pussy is swollen, Khalid," I screamed.

Khalid came in me a few more times as I was sitting on his desk. He pulled out, helped me get on my feet and turned me around. I leaned down on the desk and spread my legs for him. Seconds later, he mounted my pussy from behind and he screamed in pleasure. I felt him shoot a load of his cum right into my cervix. He caught his breath, grabbed my hips and started fucking me like there was no tomorrow. I took his large dick stroke for stroke and thrust for thrust. He repeatedly came in me.

"Fuck," he moaned as he pulled out. Khalid picked me up, carried me to his bed and gently placed me down on his bed. "I could fuck you all night but tonight is the peak time to get both wives pregnant."

"There are meds for that," I said as I got on my hands and knees. "After dinner, meet me so I can give you a few pills. Only take one per night. Or day."

"I’m sure it’ll help me last longer and hopefully impregnant both wives," Khalid said as I felt the bed move. He mounted my pussy from behind. "You’re on birth control?"

"I am," I said as I felt him shoot another load of cum in me. "Shoot all the cum you want in me."

"Thank fuck," he said as he gripped my hips. "I’m going to cum in you so much then!"

And he most certainly did. He fucked me on the bed, the floor, against the wall and the windows and in so many positions.

Right there on the silk covers of the bed, he pulled me upright into his lap, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist as we took each other in the Lotus position, his hands gripping my hips as we matched a breathless, rhythmic stride. Without letting up, he brought me flat onto my back, lifting my hips and bending my knees up toward my head to hold me open in the Bridge, driving deep as the sheets bunched beneath us. He flipped our momentum, letting me mount him in the Amazon, controlling the pace as I rode him vertically while he pulled me down tight against his chest.

Moving off the mattress, we spilled down onto the deep plush rug on the floor. He turned me around on all fours, locking his fingers into my waist to take me in doggy style, the impact echoing softly off the marble walls before pressing me flat onto my stomach, taking me flush from behind in prone bone while kissing the back of my neck.

He pulled me up against the solid wood paneled wall, lifting one of my legs straight up onto his shoulder in the anvil as he pressed into me with relentless force. Shifting our balance against the wood, he twisted my frame into the pretzel dip, contorting my body around his while maintaining deep, uninterrupted thrusts. Finally, he carried me toward the tall floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the palace gardens, holding my entire body weight suspended in mid-air in the suspended congress while I held on tight to his shoulders, watching our silhouettes against the glass as he shot load after load inside me.

By the time we finally let go and collapsed back together onto the bed, we were utterly out of breath and dripping in sweat, thoroughly exhausted from fucking across every inch of the room.

I eventually got off the bed, showered and texted Armand that I was ready.

“Armand, I am done with my meeting with the prince. Please meet me at the entrance of the hallway in fifteen minutes.”

I hit send and put my phone down. I dressed, blew dried my hair most of the way, slid my sandals on and put the scarf over my hair. I grabbed my phone off of the table and headed back to the prince’s bedroom to tell him that I was leaving and that I would see him at dinner. Khalid was asleep and his chest slowly rose with each breath. On my way out, I asked the prince’s most trusted attendant to let Khalid that I was getting picked up at the end of the prince’s hall by my head of security and that I would see the prince and his wives at dinner. The man told me that he would pass on the message to the prince.

I nodded my thanks and headed down to the end of Khalid’s private hallway to meet Armand. When I saw him, he looked relieved that I was in one piece.

“Did you breathe at all while I was out of your sight, Armand?” I asked.

“Barely,” he sighed. “How was the meeting?”

“Very satisfying,” I said. “I hope tonight’s banquet will be short as that was the most exhausting meeting I’ve had in a long time. Knowing Hamad, the banquet will last hours. My meetings with him and his government will start early tomorrow morning, though.”

“Glad that your meeting with the prince was satisfying. Do you need to change for the banquet?” he asked as he chased after me.

“I do. Princess Sabkit has clothing for me,” I said. “I don’t know if the king will invite you, Roger, Joel and Ronan but I am sure one of his men will let you know.”

It took us another minute to get to the exterior of  Princess Sabika’s room. Armand and I nodded to each other before I entered the rooms.