Slave to the Sheikh:

by Nadia Aidan

  “If you wished to spy on me, Professor, I could suggest a number of other places to do it from where the scenery would be far more intriguing than the clutter of my office.”

  The deep timbre of that voice, so similar to Amir’s, but there were small nuances to his inflection that always revealed its owner. Khalil.

  I shook my head at his blatant flirting. Their voices weren’t the only similarities between the first cousins who were less than a year apart. Amir and Khalil were the eldest in their families, each of them having four younger brothers. So it wasn’t unusual that when the tabloids caught up with the handsome playboy, he was often confused with one of Amir’s siblings. It was an error that had led to Khalil being shipped off to the military right after college, although I wasn’t certain his military training had helped with his discipline when it came to the ladies, but then I hadn’t known him before his military service either.

  “You’re incorrigible, you know,” I said as I entered his office. “I wasn’t spying, I just got wrapped up in my own thoughts. I have so much to take care of before I leave, you know.”

  “I’ve noticed you’ve been preoccupied a lot lately.” His gaze upon me was shrewd, and it had been that way ever since the big catastrophe as I’d come to refer to the day Amir’s mother and fiancé had shown up. Of late, I sensed that Khalil paid a lot closer attention to me than ever before, which was why I’d taken to avoiding him. Had I not required his signature to release the artifacts now in my possession, I would have steered clear of him entirely because he was far too astute for my peace of mind. But in order to leave the country of the archaeological site, I had to certify that I was not removing any of the antiquities that I’d found, and if I was I had to obtain his authorization, which was how I ended up the sole target of his scrutiny. “Are you sure that’s all it is, Daniella?” he asked finally, in a hushed accusatory voice, or maybe that last observation was just my guilty conscience nagging me.

  His coal black eyes, so like the man I loved, Khalil’s usually twinkled and sparkled with tiny flecks of silver whenever he teased me. I swallowed a hard lump because there was nothing teasing about the seriousness of his gaze, and I could see no traces of silver anywhere within those midnight depths.

  No one, not even Fatimah, had probed me as to the reason for my recent absentmindedness, although several wondered and had questioned, even Amir, but I had waved them all off with a flippant comment or two. Not so with Khalil. The way he stared at me, as if he could easily discern my lies and uncover my secrets, put me on the defense. My natural inclination was to shield myself from him, and some inherent instinct compelled me to protect what was most vulnerable. I immediately realized my mistake when his gaze narrowed, so as quickly as I’d lifted my hand, I dropped it back to my side, but Khalil missed nothing.

  The sharp curse he let out pierced my ears it was so vehement. He then swiftfully crossed the room and shut his door. I hadn’t given any thought to anyone but Amir’s reaction to the news, so I was ill prepared for Khalil’s agitation as he paced back and forth in his office, raking his hand through his hair.

  “I can’t believe he did this to you,” he muttered angrily. “I saw this coming, and I should have said something, but he was different with you, I thought…”

  “You thought what?” I asked, when he didn’t appear as if he would finish.

  He stopped abruptly and stared at me as if he’d just realized I was still standing there. When he still didn’t say a word, I decided to just confide in him, since it was obvious he knew the truth, and it was almost a relief to be able to share the news with someone, even though I felt a twinge of guilt that I hadn’t told Amir first.

  “Look, it’s not a big deal. I mean, it is of course,” I rushed to add, when his eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets. “What I’m trying to say is that I understand the customs of Sharjah are more traditional than that of the United States, but where I’m from, my condition is not a problem—“

  “I’m assuming you haven’t told him yet.” There was something in Khalil’s voice that made me wary as I shook my head. I didn’t like the subtext of his statement, as if there would be a problem once I told Amir.

  I resented the feeling that I needed to explain myself to him, but I wanted to set the record straight. I shouldn’t have been surprised by his assumption, after all it was a logical one, but I hadn’t planned any of this.

  “If you think I’m some gold digger, you’re wrong. I was the one who warned him we were being reckless. I don’t blame him or anything, because it takes two, but I refuse to accept all of the blame either as if I had some ulterior motive. I don’t expect anything from Amir. If he wants to be involved I won’t stand in his way, but if he doesn’t then that’s his choice, and I won’t try to force him. So at the end of the day I am the one accepting full responsibility for my actions, whereas if Amir chooses to, as he very well may, he can deny what happened between us and go on with his life as if I never existed.”

  Of all the reactions I anticipated, laughter was the absolute last. Khalil stared at me for maybe two seconds before a deep chuckle rumbled out of him. I frowned because besides there being nothing amusing about what I’d just said, I could so easily glimpse the pity in his eyes.

  He cupped my face then with the palm of his hand, the callused pads of his fingers surprisingly tender. Despite the appearance of intimacy, it was a gesture of brotherly reassurance. With a heavy sigh, he let his hand fall back to his side, causing me to frown harder. I wasn’t stupid, I knew people didn’t give you looks of pity and remorse if they had good news to share.

  “You would be lucky if Amir actually did deny your existence, but that shall not happen,” he said finally. “Are you familiar with the custom of Misfar al-Sharaf.”

  “An honor union?” I translated the words easily, but I shook my head. “No.”

  He grimaced at my response, making me uneasy.

  “After Sabeen and his mother visited, did he ever discuss his betrothal contract with you?”

  All of his questions now had me completely on edge. I wasn’t an idiot, but I now realized I had blindly trusted Amir when I probably should have probed for answers. “He told me that it was an agreement their parents entered into when they were both children, that they weren’t in love, and that he had no intention of marrying her and planned to set things right.”

  Khalil nodded. “Did he ever tell you what that meant exactly? Setting things right?” Before I could answer he asked, “Did Amir ever tell you how he planned to get out of the contract?”

  “No.”

  He sighed. “I can see now my cousin has kept you completely ignorant.” Another long, ragged breath escaped him then. “You are right when you say Sharjah is still a place filled with tradition. Some of the old ways are no longer practiced or observed by the everyday citizen, but not so for the noble families. There are only three ways out of a betrothal contract—death or Misfar al-Sharaf.”

  “Ok and that means what exactly?” I questioned when he paused.

  “Well let me just say this, once a contract is entered, it cannot be undone by the entering parties, meaning the parents, not unless they want a blood feud on their hands. And Sabeen and Amir cannot simply just break it of their own will, for that very reason.”

  He must have glimpsed my horrified expression, because he quickly shook his head. “No, we do not still engage in blood feuds, but for either Sabeen or Amir to break the contract, it would be a disgrace. Not only would it ruin the centuries long friendship between the two families, Amir would be considered unfit to rule if he was the offending party, whereas Sabeen would never be able to marry, and her family’s name would be forever shamed, although truthfully, Sabeen is at a disadvantage because she’s really not capable of breaking the contract, that is unless she left Sharjah and never came back.”

  I let out a nervous chuckle. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a damn good job, Khalil.”

  “I assur
e you that is not my intent,” he replied, but his expression was somber. “I do not mean to suggest that, Misfar al-Sharaf, is somehow undesirable, because it’s not. The reason why Amir probably didn’t tell you is because essentially, this alternative is nothing more than a political strategy, but with any strategy there are inherent risks, and in this case, there are other concessions that must be made before it can be considered a success.”

  “You’re not making any sense, Khalil. What does this all have to do with me exactly?”

  His eyes darkened. “Everything. As soon as Amir and Sabeen were of age, they could have married, that they didn’t means that when Sabeen turns thirty-three within two months, they must honor the contract by that deadline, unless Amir enters into an honor union, which if you are carrying his child, then he has done so.”

  “I—I don’t understand.”

  “As is our custom, an honor union can only be invoked by the man under contract.” His lips quirked into a rueful grin. “Yes, Sharjah is progressive in many ways, but there remain some traditions that are antiquated, I know. That’s what I meant when I said technically, Sabeen can’t actually break the contract. And this is why it is no longer considered appropriate to enter into betrothal contracts. They are almost unheard of today. My point however, is this—if Amir has produced an heir, then under the traditions of our old laws, he may take the mother of his heir as his first wife, meaning Sabeen would have to settle for the title of second wife—”

  “I thought such practices were banned years ago.”

  “They were, but as I said, their parents established that contract twenty some years ago. Times have changed but the laws governing the old ways still exist for these old traditions. Do not worry, Sabeen won’t be marrying him now. This is what I meant by concessions being made. Amir knew Sabeen would be too proud to accept the title of second wife, she’s also far too modern, but the contract still must be honored.” His eyes darkened then, forcing me to draw in a sharp breath. I knew that look, had seen it upon Amir’s face many times before. Possession. Something dark and dangerous swirled in those shadowed depths. I hadn’t realized or even considered it before, but the two cousins shared more than just their chiseled good looks and deep baritone voices.

  “You took Amir’s place.” It wasn’t a question because I already knew. I was no fan of Sabeen, but the expression on Khalil’s face filled me with pity for her and compassion for him. He loved her. And from what little I’d gleaned in my brief time in her company, Sabeen had no idea. My heart actually ached for him. He’d had to sit back and watch as the woman he loved, ignored him while she humiliated herself, openly chasing after and throwing herself at a man who didn’t want her. That the man was as close to him as his own brother, must have tortured him. All these years, he’d been forced to bury his feelings, pretend they didn’t exist. Somehow I knew he’d never told a soul, not even Amir, of his desire for Sabeen, because he knew he could never have her.

  Under normal circumstances, I would have chirped out something very encouraging like ‘all’s well that ends well’, but I already knew when it came to my fate and my role in this whole ‘strategy’ nothing would be well. In some sadistic way, I took a perverse bit of pleasure in knowing that Sabeen wasn’t going to walk away unscathed either.

  As if awakened by Amir’s touch, the submissive within me recognized that rough edge of dominance in another. I also sensed in Khalil that his brand of dominance was darker, rougher, his need to possess driven by baser instincts; which he’d carefully masked by his seemingly carefree, frivolous nature.

  I shuddered at the intensity of his gaze, because within his eyes I saw her fate. He would punish Sabeen until he broke her, until her needs became so entwined with his that pleasing him would become more important than anything else, until she woke up one day and it would take but one command and her body would comply without hesitation, that’s when she would realize that her body no longer belonged to her, it was his, and not just her body, but all of her, even her soul would submit and she would wonder how she’d ever existed before she’d become his absolute possession.

  He nodded. “Yes, I agreed to honor the contract,” he said eventually. “Sabeen truly had no choice in the matter unless she was prepared to suffer the humiliation of existing in a loveless marriage as Amir’s second wife.”

  Khalil did well in hiding it, but I’d still glimpsed the brief flash of anguish across his face. Ooooh, when I got my hands on that little bitch. I’d spent almost three months with the man, long enough to witness the absurdity of such behavior, but I’d seen it with my own eyes. Women actually fought like street cats for his affection and attention, so to hear that Sabeen, in all her ungracious ungratefulness, had thrown his offer back into his face made me want to pummel her. Apparently she’d finally come to her senses and accepted his offer to take Amir’s place, but not before she’d done some damage. Whatever pity I’d felt for her before, was long gone. She needed to be taught several lessons in humility, and I knew Khalil was just the man to do it.

  “You have yet to ask of your fate,” Khalil remarked with a small grin, as if reading my thoughts.

  I chuckled. “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten.” And just like that, the easy moment between us quickly passed. He grew serious again, and the room seemed to chill several degrees.

  “An honor union, allows a man, at least in theory, to marry the woman he desires and father her children. He got you pregnant, so he will marry you. In turn, he has also seen that the betrothal contract is honored by finding his betrothed an acceptable match. When he and Sabeen go before their parents, you and I shall stand beside our intended and agree to fulfill our obligations in this. All parties should agree and everyone walks away satisfied with the outcome. The only problem is that you are a foreigner.”

  “And that’s a problem, why?”

  “Because under misfar al-sharaf, you have no rights.”

  “But you just said it allows a man to marry the woman he knocked up.”

  “I said in theory. What I say next, just know that I am not saying it to hurt you, but I need you to fully understand your predicament.”

  I nodded when I realized he was waiting on my permission to finish.

  “Amir can only get out of his betrothal contract if a woman, who is not his intended, is pregnant. There is no other way, he had to get someone pregnant. Had he chosen a woman of Sharjah, he would still have to marry her, but she would be afforded the customary rights and protections that come with marriage, but instead he chose you. Because you are foreign-born, under misfar al-sharaf, your marriage to him is at his discretion. The second I marry Sabeen, the contract terms will be fulfilled and he is free to do whatever he pleases regarding you. If he wishes to discard you and marry another he is free to do so. He only has to acknowledge your child, no matter the gender, but if your child is not a boy, then he is not obligated to claim your child as his heir, or give your baby his name, which means your daughter would not be entitled to anything upon his death. In truth, once he is completely free of his contract, he can do whatever he wishes with you and your child. If you have a boy, and he claims him as his heir, but no longer desires your presence he can send you home, and you would be powerless to return without his permission.” He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, I could actually hear the remorse in his voice. “I am truly sorry, Daniella, but my cousin used you to get out of his contract. I would never have believed him capable of this but…”

  His voice trailed off because I’d begun to cry. The pain I’d felt when I’d discovered Amir was engaged, paled in comparison to this gut wrenching agony. I was vaguely aware of Khalil’s arms encircling me when my soft cries turned to outright sobs.

  Amir had warned me of my impending fate. Had he not told me I was to be his slave? And so I’d been, all the while believing that I’d pierced his hardened heart, that at some point he would return my love.

  Bitterness welled up inside of me. He’d set out to get me
pregnant to break some stupid contract. It was unfathomable and twisted in so many ways. He needed the wife and child, but only for a short while, and then he could just send us both packing because I had no rights under this honor union. I knew all about these shitty customs that were mostly obsolete, and how they punished and oppressed women, especially foreign women. I’d been stupid enough to get knocked up by a native-born man of principle and so I didn’t deserve to have any rights, power, or freedom? Truthfully, I’d always known I was at his mercy, and in so many ways, given that he was the regent of Sharjah, but naively I believed he respected me enough to never violate my trust and faith in him. I cried even harder then. I didn’t care about me so much. A gaping wound would forever remain in the place my heart had once been, but I would survive Amir’s betrayal. What I would never survive was the loss of my baby. If Amir woke up one day and decided he’d had enough, I would be forced to leave, and without my child, if that’s what he wished.

  That realization was like ice water to my face. My tears abruptly stopped, even though the feelings of betrayal still remained, but instead of feeling sorry for myself, I used every ounce of pain and anguish I felt to propel myself into action.

  “You have to help me get out of here, now.”

  Khalil look puzzled at first, but when comprehension dawned on him he shook his head. “Amir will be furious. He’s not expected to return from Cairo until tomorrow. If he finds you gone—”

  “I don’t care.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I have no intention of giving that monster the opportunity to take my baby away. So you can either help me or I will find another way. “