SIXTEEN
Despite fantasies of us whisking out into the world that very night, Omar was not about to abandon the complex task of handing over power to his younger brother. His abdication shocked the nation, and pictures of him were plastered on newspapers and TV channels around the world. The people of Al-Thakri had been overjoyed at the news of the twins’ birth, and even more ready to accept Omar as their new king. There was a mingled sense of mourning and excitement when he went up to the podium and announced that the coronation ceremony would continue, only with his brother acceding to power instead.
Sajid, who had been hurriedly dressed in the traditional garb of the ascending king, looked beaming and proud as he participated in the ancient ceremony. I stood next to Omar, each of us holding one of our sons, as we watched his brother take the throne that was never his. Alima was sobbing with happiness, and the girls were thrilled with all the attention they were suddenly getting as the royal daughters. It wouldn’t be too long before Alima would have to start vetting suitors for them, and I didn’t envy her the task. It was another complication of power that Omar had saved us from; I would never have to break the hearts of my sons by telling them the person they loved wouldn’t be accepted by the kingdom. They were free to be whoever they grew up to be.
Mirah was shocked, but there was also some sort of light and happiness in her expression, something that felt like it was a long time coming. Maybe this was something she had always dreamed for herself; Omar’s father giving up power to spend more time with her and their sons. She never confided in me that that’s what it was, but I could see it on her face as she helped us pack.