They were married on Marco’s yacht a week later. The day was as tranquil as she was stormy.  In a simple tea-length full Italian lace wedding dress, she was a picture of demure elegance. Captain Ross Taylor, a close friend and captain of Marco’s impressive yacht, married them in an intimate ceremony attended by a handful of people, Bismah included. 

Back to his stiff self, Bismah observed the proceedings, disapproval clearly etched on his round face. It wasn’t unusual but Leila had learnt to read Bismah’s expressions and knew that what Bismah disapproved of most, was that the ceremony was not according to Oudhian traditions. 

Leila reminded Bismah before the ceremony began that this was according to traditions of the west, a world that Marco belonged to and not so long ago, she did as well.  

Since there was no aisle to walk down, Leila stood at a makeshift altar, Marco beside her. Carefully ensuring that her eyes did not meet her husband-to-be, she stared forward, her simple veil hopefully concealing her apprehension. 

It was probably too late to call things to a halt. If she had the luxury of that option. All she could do was just wish that it would be over with—soon!

The captain smiled warmly, his bearded face nodded the beginning of the ceremony. His voice rang out loud and clear, the sound of the lapping waves hitting against the sides of the yacht faded into the background. But the churning in stomach reached a new, unbearable level. 

Fear kept her feet firmly cemented to the gleaming wooden floors of the upper deck. She nervously stole a peek at Marco. She had seen him on brief occasions since the day she accepted his proposal. The few moments they spent together were fleeting and completely civil. Standing beside him now, Leila was very aware of his sleek handsome confidence. 

He was watching her, albeit guardedly. But when their eyes met, it was as if the whole world vanished in a mist of nothing.

And then he looks at me like that, like I’m all he sees, she thought as the churn became flutters and something else. It became clear why Leila was filled with an inexplicable fear. This man, powerful and so very complicated was about to be her husband. Leila, even with her new, yet unaccustomed title and position, felt simple and unsophisticated. 

She saw his lips moving. “Leila—?” 

The captain cleared his throat and Leila realised that everyone was waiting for her expectantly.

“You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Marco asked, a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His voice shook a little, or was that Leila’s imagination?

The captain repeated the question and Leila accepted her vows, to the relief of the guests and Marco, she noted. 

Leila and Marco were declared husband and wife and without prompting from the captain, Marco said with a wink, “Now I get to kiss my beautiful bride.” He pulled Leila into his arms and kissed her. Gently at first but then he let it linger, a little longer than was necessary, much to the delight of their guests. 

The sky had darkened and the brightest stars twinkled through the twilight as the orange-tinged sea nudged at the sides of the yacht. 

Finally, free of the well-wishers, Leila leaned against the side of the boat, relieved she did not have to maintain the happy smile expected on a bride’s face, any longer. 

Though she knew it was probably a bad idea to be left alone with her thoughts, she needed a breather. Marco was standing not too far off seemingly engrossed in conversation with the few remaining people. Guests who attended her wedding. Their wedding! She had just bid farewell to Bismah who was going back to Oudh that very night. It had been a surprisingly emotional goodbye.

“You are now a married woman, princess, in the care of your new husband. I wish you well.” Bismah had taken her hands in his and held them, his eyes soft, and she swore she saw a flicker of admiration.

“Thank you.”

“I will take this happy memory to the Queen and let her know that you and the Heart of Oudh will soon return to where you both belong.” Finally, words of acceptance from Bismah. Leila smiled.

“I will miss you Bismah.” Her voice shook. With his parting, she would be alone—without an ally.

“You will be in Oudh in ten days. And I will ensure that you arrive to the biggest celebration Oudh has ever seen. Your traditional wedding will...”

Leila interrupted, “Bismah, I am counting on you to keep things simple. I know you are going back to prepare for the return of the ruby but I don’t think I can handle another wedding ceremony, especially an extravagant one.” 

“I understand but I can’t guarantee it will be as you wish. You are after all the princess.” When he saw the reproach in her expression he smiled and said, “I will see what I can do.” 

After he’d given Mira, her new assistant, countless stern instructions, he had left.

Watching him go, Leila felt more alone than ever before. She bit down the tears, and pushed away from the edge of the railing. Life was one upheaval after the next. Just when she thought she was growing comfortable with things, change loomed, and her life took on a new direction.