Mila opened the front door and Dylan carried the bags inside. “How is helping me messing with Prince Zain?”
“Just a little guy humor. Where’s your room?”
Mila pointed up.
“Second floor?”
Mila pointed higher still.
“Third floor?”
Mila pointed higher again.
“I should have let Zain bring you home,” Dylan mumbled as he started climbing.
CHAPTER SIX
“Give me all the details,” Zain demanded the second Kareem slammed the gas pedal down.
“It started off as a small number of people who were protesting the lack of jobs, but then they got on social media and soon five turned into fifty-five. The king ordered guards to passively observe to make sure no property damage was done and no one was hurt.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Zain said, confused. “Rahmi has a very low unemployment rate.”
Kareem flew down the country road, heading toward home. “I don’t know, but it was trending online and there are pictures of young people in the street, lighting fire to palm trees and the Rahmi flag.”
Zain didn’t reply. Since he grew up outside of the palace, he had a different take on how to be royal and what his responsibilities were. While Dirar was a great ruler, he was just a different kind of ruler—one who didn’t get out among his people to understand what they needed. But Zain had. Every summer he lived in Rahmi and every time he visited, he slipped out of the palace with a wig, sunglasses, and average clothes to hit the bars. He walked the streets and chatted with the patrons who all knew him under a fake name.
People were worried that the oil reserves were going to dry up in the next generation or two. In fact, Zain had commissioned an independent study to evaluate just how much oil was under Rahmi and her waters to see if the fears were founded. The people wanted to see more diversity in the economy, but none of them complained about employment. And certainly none of them were worried right now. They were worried for their grandchildren. And certainly there had never been any talks of rioting.
Kareem pulled up to Zain’s parents’ house. Nabi, the head of security for the royal family, was standing on the stairs waiting for him. Zain rushed from the car and took the stairs two at a time. “Update?”
“King Dirar is talking to your father. The riots have grown in size to around one hundred. The crowd consists mostly of people under the age of twenty-five. The town is on lockdown and citizens are arming themselves to protect their homes and businesses.”
“What are you hearing?” Zain asked as their strides ate up the long hallway heading back toward the offices. Nabi was renowned for ferreting out information.
“We’re not really sure who these people are. The palace guards snagged a couple from the street without gaining attention and they had no identification on them. They only said they were citizens of Rahmi and their voices would be heard.”
“Could they be from Surman?” Kareem asked as they entered the conference room.
“I wouldn’t put it past Queen Suri,” Zain muttered. The queen had been a pain in Rahmi’s side for years, especially after she became a widow four years ago. She spoke of peace, but her actions were anything but. Surman was ready to come out of Rahmi’s shadow to claim power in the region. There were rumors Suri was strengthening ties with her neighbors, even the dreaded Tahjad, to make a play for the shipping rights to the area. Sometimes enemies made strange bedfellows, though so far there had been no public sign of them becoming friendly.
“Zain, thank you for joining us. As your guard said, we are running on the idea that this is Suri’s doing,” Zain’s father said as Dirar nodded his head onscreen.
“We believe it’s her way of undermining your summit. I’m sending Jamal to you as soon as the riots have died down,” King Dirar told him.
“Jamal? Why?” Zain asked.
“I want the representatives from Surman to know you have the full power of the royal family behind you. Jamal will be a silent observer. This is still your summit, but he will be there to take action if Surman oversteps.” Zain gritted his teeth and gave a single nod of his head. His uncle took that as acquiescence to this plan. “Good. Now, I have a riot to detain and a queen to call out.”
“Wait,” Mo told his brother. “You must keep an open mind until you have learned all the facts. We don’t know if this is Surman for sure. We need proof before you go after a queen.”
“And, Uncle,” Zain cut in, “if we make a big deal about a relatively small event, then we could threaten global support for our nanotech lab. No country will sign on to be partners if they think Rahmi is unstable. This story needs to be spun into a wild college party or something. The country’s future economy depends on our allies—even those who aren’t our allies—as seeing us as a stable country worth investing in.”
Dirar took a deep breath. “It will be done. But Surman’s days are limited. As soon as I have proof they are behind this, I am going after them.” Dirar slammed the computer shut and the screen went dark.
Zain looked at his father. His hair had started to turn silver the last few years and now he ran his hand over his normally impeccable hair, causing it to mess. “Where the hell is Nash?”
“I don’t know, Dad. He’s not responding to any of my communications. I thought Dirar would have told you,” Zain said, surprised that even his father didn’t know where the man being groomed to take over security in Keeneston had gone. Ahmed and Nabi had trained Nash, but the king had ordered the promising young soldier back to Rahmi and no one had heard from him since.
“No, he didn’t.” Mo picked up the phone and spoke into it. “My office. Now. Kareem, you can leave. Thank you for getting my son here so quickly.”
Kareem knew better than to talk back to Mo and bowed his head. “Yes, sir. Call if you have need of me.”
No one said a word until the door was shut behind Kareem. “Zain, I want only those we trust with you at all times. I know Kareem is a good guy and seems to have a mind for politics since his father is an ambassador. He isn’t as savvy in security as we are accustomed to. I worry about him being responsible for your life,” Mo said seriously.
Nabi smiled tightly. “He’s a good kid. But I agree that he is a diplomat, not a guard. We all know that. The king forced us to take him as a favor to his father who got stuck with the embassy job in Tahjad.”
“Then why don’t we use him as a diplomat?” Zain asked. “Tahjad hates us. We hate them. We understand that. Kareem will understand how to navigate those waters. We want Tahjad to partner with us on the nanotech lab. At the very least, we need to get them to agree to stop pirating our ships.” The more Zain thought about it, the better he liked this plan. Tahjad was a small country across the sea from Rahmi that bordered with Surman. Unfortunately for Tahjad and Surman, they didn’t have the oil that Rahmi did and their economies were shaky at best. The three countries had fought for generations. That is, until Zain’s great-grandfather ordered his second son to marry the queen of Surman. Since then, there had been an uneasy peace. However, no royals, even second, third, or fourth born, were being sacrificed to marry the Tahjad king. It’s a country known to make their money selling arms on the black market and pirating ships.
“Offer them an olive branch,” Mo thought out loud. “Give them the honor of being invited to send a team of their top scientists to the lab. We will not tax them or expect any payment for five years, after which we'll take a reduced cut. How does that sound?”