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touch him. His hair, so dark and full, was tousled from her fingers. She wanted to stroke his skin, just to feel its softness once more. She doubted if he knew just how much she cared for him.
          It was late. She had no idea just how late, but the caravan was quiet and the night was dark. Amani needed to leave. The sun would rise soon, and Ziyad had never asked her to stay all night.
          Besides, she didn't belong in his carav. His quarters were meant for him to share with his princess. But Amani didn't want to leave.
          Ziyad's arm was around her waist. She slowly moved it in order to sit up.
          "Karis?" he murmured dreamily.
          Amani's heart stopped.
          "Where are you going?" he asked, still caught in slumber.
          "Easy, my love," she said, her voice cracking. "Go back to sleep."
          "I miss you…" Ziyad's voice trailed off once more.
          Amani had to cover her mouth to keep from making noise. She stood and hastily dressed, not bothering to tie her belt-wrap before quietly opening his carav door. Once she shut it behind her, she walked barefoot to her own quarters, gazing up at the lovers in the sky. The moons Thiadra and Pamos were almost touching. Another couple of weeks and he'd catch her. They seemed to mock her in their silence, bathing Jikkar with their ethereal light.
          There would be no blessing from the lovers for her and Ziyad. He loved Karis and he always would. What he'd said a few moments before was proof of that, regardless if he'd been dreaming.
          Amani opened her own carav door and entered the darkened room with a heavy heart. She was numb. She was in love.
          She was falling apart.
    ~ * ~
          Ziyad awoke to the sound of a horn blast outside his carav. That wasn't his call to arms. Even in his own befuddled state, he knew whose horn that was.
          The Falcon Prince.
          The sun was already high in the sky by his estimation. He never slept so late. Must have been his minx of a wife that kept him right where he was. But when Ziyad rolled over, all he beheld were empty pillows.
          He blinked a few times then glanced around the carriage. Amani wasn't there. Her robes were gone as well. She hadn't stayed with him.
          Disappointment shot through every corner of his body. More than anything in the desert, he'd wanted to wake in her arms and kiss her to passion once more. But she was gone, leaving him in the middle of the night, just as he'd once left her.
          He tried to tell himself she was only doing her duty. She wasn't his princess—she knew she couldn't stay in his carav all night long. But by the gods, he'd wanted her to stay. He'd hoped she would when he'd suggested they rest. If she'd fallen asleep, she might have woken with him this morning.
          But the fact that she was gone jabbed him in the stomach. He knew he shouldn't take it personally. Amani hadn't rejected him. She was merely honoring his wishes as his wife, not his princess.
          However, Ziyad had to wonder about the wisdom of his choice in putting Karis on a pedestal. She was the woman he'd loved, but she was gone. He couldn't hold her any more than he could hold the wind or the waters of his oasis.
          She'd never speak his name or make love to him again.
          Amazingly, the sting of that loneliness was lessened the more he thought on Amani. She'd opened up to him more than he thought she might. He wanted to spend every waking moment with his pretty wife.
          Khalil's horn sounded once again. What was the Falcon doing at his oasis? With a sigh, Ziyad had a good idea. The Falcon was probably here to check up on him and make sure he hadn't totally destroyed the starry-eyed girl he'd shackled to him in marriage.
          Wandering to one of his various chests, Ziyad pulled out a fresh black robe and donned it, along with clean