Page 89 of Dalla's Royal Guards
They were almost at the doorway leading out of the dining room when Lissa turned her wheelchair and called out to them.
“Dalla! Do you remember his full name? Your friend, Napoléon?”
“Bonaparte!” she called back. She laughed over her shoulder. “He used to tease me about mine, and I would tease him about his. We were the two B’s: Bonaparte and Bogadottir.”
She turned back just as Musad released a low curse while Nasser applied pressure to the small of her back and guided her out.
Behind them, Lissa sat frozen in her chair, staring at Mario, who stared back with equally wide eyes.
Hari sipped his tea, his smile amused and maddeningly serene.
“Well,” Hari said, “that was a delightful breakfast. Anyone care for cookies?”
Twenty-Four
“What were you and Lissa so focused on at breakfast?” Nasser asked as he guided Dalla around a woven basket stand at the edge of the open-air market.
“The changes in weapons since black powder was invented. Though dying by the blade is no less excruciating,” Dalla said, pausing for a moment to finger a beautiful basket as she thought about it before she shook her head. “Honestly, all the ways I have died have been painful.”
Musad, who was trailing a few paces behind them with a satchel of dried figs and preserved lemons slung over his shoulder, grunted with displeasure. “That… doesn’t sound like a very good morning conversation.”
“And talking about returning to fight in Kashir is better?” she retorted, reaching out to snag a candied date from the sample platter a vendor held out. She popped the treat into her mouth to keep from making another caustic retort. Closing her eyes as the delicious flavors burst in her mouth, she gave the vendor a pleased grin. “These are delicious! Can we get a bag of these?”
Nasser chuckled at her pleading expression. “We’re going to need a bigger car to get home if she keeps this up,” he teased before looking at the delighted vendor. “We’d like a bag of these, please.”
“With pleasure, sires,” the vendor replied with a huge smile.
“The market hasn’t changed much. Well, except that it is cleaner, has more items, the road is paved instead of dirt, mud, or rocky, and you pay with a flat card instead of coins,” she mused, glancing around with delight at all the colorfully dressed residents and tourists. “Okay, I take it back. It has changed a lot.”
“I can see you here, back then, enchanting the merchants as much as you have enchanted Musad and myself,” Nasser said, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips. The tender press of his mouth on her knuckles was as natural now as breathing.
“Would you like to see the ruins of the original fort that was here?” Musad asked.
“It’s still here? It wasn’t in great shape even when it was first built. I swear the carpenters were all drunk,” she exclaimed.
Nasser chuckled as he and Musad guided her through the market. He gazed around them as they walked, listening as Musad and Dalla discussed what the fort and life had been like back then.
They left the vibrant buzz of the market behind as they made their way along a tree-lined footpath that wound through the cliffs. The air grew saltier, the sound of the sea nearer. The remnants of the old fort loomed ahead—crumbling walls overtaken by wild vines but still solid in places, its bones refusing to vanish.
He felt something off, though. A strange tingling sensation swept over him. He couldn’t pinpoint a cause for the feeling, but Musad caught his gaze and gave him a curt nod. His brother felt something as well. While he didn’t want to cut short their day, Dalla’s safety was paramount to anything else. He slowed just enough to fall behind them so he could call Donovan, who had a team following them.
“Do you see anything?” he asked.
“Nothing. Do you see anything?” Donovan replied.
“No, but—” he released a frustrated breath. “Keep your eyes open. We are going to take her back to the palace after we visit the fort. Have a vehicle ready for us.”
“I’ll have the team do another sweep, and I’ll be there to pick you up,” Donovan said.
He hung up the phone, and Dalla turned and lifted her hand to him. He picked up his pace and gave her a reassuring smile when she looked at him with a worried expression.
“Is everything alright?” she murmured.
“Everything is fine. So, tell me about this group of pirates that thought to whisk you away,” he teased.
Dalla paused as they neared the arched entrance, her hand brushing the worn stone. “It’s changed… but—” she murmured. “I have many good memories here.”
Nasser watched a gamut of expressions cross Dalla’s face as they entered the fort. He would never get tired of watching her. She reminisced about each room as they climbed up to the parapet of the fort where they could look out over the vibrant sapphire waters of the Mediterranean.
