Movie Star Prince - Completed.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Entering the grand reception room, the first thing Heather noticed was the long reception line of the royal family, all dressed in all their finery, as Crown Prince Ziyad and his highness' guest from Australia introduced.

Also noticed they weren't the first to arrive, hopefully not the last, while Ziyad guided her over to his father, first in line, head of the country and family. She curtsies, keeping her head and eyes lowered. "Your majesty."

"Miss Heather, how lovely to see you, and looking so delightful," taking hold of her hand, where she lifted her face towards him.

"Thank you, your majesty. It is a true blessing to be here."

He brought up her hand to kiss, dark eyes glistening. "Please, call me Aban, my child. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight."

Her smile came so easily, eyes warming, nerves dispensing. "I am sure I will, Aban. You are too kind."

"Flatter," Ziyad whispered in her ear. "Father," he greeted with hugs and cheek kissing. That was a thing she had noticed in the Middle East.

"Son. Yes indeed," he beamed. "Well done." A message passed between them that Heather witnessed, too aware of her surroundings not to, not sure over what.

Approval? She hoped, while Ziyad moved them on to his mother, who welcomed her with openness, hugging her, kissing her cheeks, almost bringing her to tears. This was the last thing she had expected.

"Your majesty, you look amazing," she couldn't stop gushing, "and thank you for your generosity."

"By the looks of things, something you did not need. Stunning, just stunning. Who is the designer?" Heather's heart plunged into the pit of her stomach, fingers gripping the side of her dress, licking suddenly dry lips, not sure what to do. She couldn't lie to her. "A new one," she darted Ziyad a glance, who inclined his head slightly. 

The back of her hand slammed into his chest without thought that he took a claim of it and slipped through his arm. "You have to ask your son about that. He organised it." 

Ziyad leaned in closer towards his mother. "You need to talk to your daughter."

Juman's eyes widened. "This is one of her designs?"

"Yes," Heather gushed. "You have the most talented daughter."

"That I do. Jasmine," she waved at her daughter to join them, Jasmine's head popped out of line, stepped back, and headed behind her siblings to her mother, not caring that other guests were waiting. The line usually went faster than this.

"Mama?" Jasmine asked eagerly.

"Did you design and create this?"

Colour flooded her cheeks. "I did mama."

"We will talk tomorrow." A glow entered her eyes, rushing back to her spot, flustered. Juman turned her attention back to Heather. "You will join her. I think we have a lot to discuss."

"Do I need to attend, mother?" Ziyad enquired.

"No, this is women's business," she waved them on. One by one, Ziyad introduced his family, from eldest to youngest. First, the men followed by the women, Jasmine last. The royal family.

She piqued the eldest son's interest, who had intelligent dark eyes.

"So you are the one who had stolen his heart."

She eyed off Ziyad. "One I plan to keep, your highness."

Ziyad moved her on smartly onto his next brother, who was aloof, followed by his sisters, who were welcoming, especially Jasmine, who greeted her like a long-lost friend with hugs, squeezing her tightly.