Crescent was one of those. The owner was a Saudi prince. Which wasn’t saying much; there were many. As far as she could tell, this guy—Fahd bin Talal—wasn’t the type who cut journalists up with bone saws. Dressed in a long white dishdasha and red-and-white headscarf, accessorized with gilt-edged sunglasses, he greeted Saskia at the gangway, flanked by at least a dozen uniformed crew members, and handed her a bouquet before escorting her aboard—where a woman was waiting just so that Saskia could hand the bouquet off to her and not have to lug it around. After a brief walkaround she was escorted to the royal suite, or at least a royal suite, and introduced to a phalanx of butlers, stewards, housekeepers, and so on who would see to her every need.