by Leslie North
The night passed in a blur. Bas baked cakes and lemon bars, bread and rum baba, kneaded dough till his knuckles were raw, but he still found no peace. Fiona had to marry him. He loved her, she loved him, and the way was finally open, so what was the problem? Did she think he’d be cruel? A negligent father? How could he set her fears to rest if she wouldn’t say what was wrong?
Her words rang in his ears—I’ll marry for love or not at all—and he couldn’t escape them. She did love him. He was sure of it. He’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in her kiss. She’d as good as said it in his study, when she’d asked why not him. Unless…had he read her all wrong? Had he mistaken lust for affection, desperation for love? Had she been backed into a corner, grasping at straws, and he’d been convenient?
Bas couldn’t believe that. Fiona knew her own mind. It was one of the first things he’d admired about her, that fiery conviction. She loved him, so where had he gone wrong?
He left the kitchens at dawn, a new determination burning in his heart. He’d have it out with Fiona, dare her to pretend she didn’t love him. His certainty grew with every step: this was the right thing to do. His heart pounded, a fierce protectiveness rising within him as he thought of her, of the new life they’d made together. She was the family he wanted. He’d make her see that if it was the last thing he did.
He tore through the cloisters, blood racing. His vision doubled as he ran, eyes bleary from lack of sleep, but he was a man on a mission. He threw her door open with a flourish, only to stop in his tracks, breathless with shock.
Fiona’s bed was freshly made, and her closet stood empty. The maids were already airing out her suite, letting the breeze carry off the memory of her perfume. She was gone, and it was too late, and what had he done?
Bas clenched his teeth, swaying on his feet. He’d done the right thing. How had it ended so badly?
16
It was strange being in her mother’s room alone, strange and awkward, like stumbling onto a stage set between scenes. A stack of letters sat on the night table, waiting to be opened. The chessboard still stood in the alcove, one move from checkmate. Fiona couldn’t remember who’d been black. Mother, probably. She always won.
Movement caught her eye, a linnet on the feeder. It spotted her and puffed itself up, scattering seed across the terrace. Fiona wondered if it was the same one her mother had tamed, the one that had eaten from her hand. A shiver ran down her spine; this room felt haunted. The whole house did, with most of the servants gone.
She wondered if this was how Bas had felt at the botanical gardens, bumping up against memories at every turn, half-expecting his parents to appear. She hadn’t quite understood at the time, but stepping into her mother’s room felt like turning back the clock. Like she could take her mother’s rook and see her king go down in turn, and then they’d go for tea.
Fiona went to the bookshelf and found what she’d come for—a fat, leather-bound volume stamped with the family crest. She took it to the bed and flipped it open, smiling as her own face greeted her, radiant with laughter as Father pushed her on the swing. Grandma was puttering about in the background, tending her kitchen garden.
“Connecticut, 1997,” she whispered, running her finger over the faded caption. She wondered what had become of her grandparents’ house, way off across the ocean. She could find out, she supposed, now she had nothing to keep her here. Maybe fix the place up, if it was still standing. That had been in her mother’s name, so it was hers, she supposed.
She tucked the album under her arm and cast a longing look at her parents’ portrait. It would’ve been nice to have that with her, a memory she could hold onto, but the lawyers had been sniffing around, cataloguing everything for when it came time to divide the estate. The last thing Fiona needed was to be branded a thief. She supposed she was entitled to a few keepsakes, a photo here, a trinket there, but the portrait was pushing it. Her father had commissioned that, back when they got married.
“Miss Nadide?” Khadija appeared in the doorway. She looked like she’d been crying. She’d been doing a lot of that since Fiona got back. Still, she managed a smile and a curtsey. “There’s a lady here to see you, Princess Edlyn.”
“Have her wait on the terrace. I’ll be with her in a moment.”
“Can I bring you any refreshments?”
Fiona sighed. She knew what this was, Bas putting out feelers. Hoping to spare his precious honor. “Just tea,” she said. “She won’t be staying long.”
Edlyn grabbed her hands the moment Fiona sat down. She was nearly vibrating with excitement, and Fiona found herself intrigued.
“What’s got you so worked up?”
“Guess.”
Fiona shook her head. “I don’t know. You’re in love?”
“Yes. I’ve spent the last month nursing Rashid back to health, and he’s swept me off my feet.” She fanned herself breathlessly. “We’re eloping tonight. I came to see if you’d be my bridesmaid.”
“What? Really?”
“Of course not. This is far better than that. ” Edlyn poured herself a cup of tea and took a sip, drawing out the tension.
“If this is some ploy to get me back to the palace—”
“Oh, it is, but not for the reasons you’re thinking.” She leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Bas refitted the whole stable just for me. There’s saddles, mounting ramps, everything I could possibly need. Fiona! I’m going riding!”
“Edlyn!” Fiona didn’t have to fake her enthusiasm. This was fantastic news, the first she’d had in weeks. “What made him change his mind?”
“You did, of course.” Edlyn clapped her hands. “He told me all about it, how you pleaded my case. How you wouldn’t give up, even when he yelled.” Her eyes glistened with joy. “You have to come ride with me. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“I don’t know about that.” Fiona looked out to sea, a view soon to be lost to her forever. “There’s so much to do. It’s my birthday tomorrow, and I have to be out of here by then. And the staff wants to see me off.”
“Just for an hour. I have to stick to the practice ring till I’m used to the saddle. You’ll be back before dinner, I promise.”
Fiona wanted to say yes, but this felt like a trap, and a dangerous one at that. Turning Bas down had torn her in two, and she wasn’t sure she could refuse him twice. If he asked her again—if he so much as showed his face—
“One ride. One hour. The horses all miss you.”
“Will your brother be there?”
“Who, Bas?” Edlyn’s brows drew together. “Okay, this is ridiculous. He’s been impossible since you left, and now you’re passing up a ride to avoid him? What happened between you two?”
“Nothing. Just…it’s not worth getting into.”
“I’d very much say it is.” Edlyn crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve been looking forward to this ride for fourteen years. If my brother’s presence is going to keep me from sharing it with the person who made it possible, I deserve to know why.”
Fiona let out an unsteady breath. Edlyn was right. She was being selfish, childish even, and the least she could do was come clean. “He asked me to marry him,” she said. “But not because he wanted to.”
“Why, then?”
“Because I’m pregnant.” She looked away, fearing Edlyn’s judgment. “You should’ve seen the look on his face. He came marching in like he was being led to the gallows, looking like he might be sick, and he didn’t even ask. He told me we’d be married, and I can’t. I just can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Edlyn took her hand and squeezed. “If you need time—”
“It’s not that.” She blinked back tears. “He doesn’t love me. I can’t give my life to a man who’d resent me, who married me because he thought he had to. It wouldn’t be fair on either of us. Especially when…”
“What?”
“I love him.” She blinked again, but the tears came anyway, hot and salty. “I think I always will. I coul
dn’t look at him every day, knowing he’d never love me back.”
Edlyn didn’t say anything at first. She reached for a napkin and dabbed at Fiona’s face, stroking her hair when her sobs only deepened. Fiona dug her nails into her palms, fighting for control. She’d come this far without going to pieces. She could make it one more day.
“What if he did love you?” Edlyn said at last.
“He couldn’t.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He’s married already.” Fiona watched the waves, finding calm in their gentle swells. “His kingdom’s his only love. I’d be his mistress at best.” She twisted the fabric of her dress between her hands, swallowing anger. “Oh, you should’ve seen him! I went to talk to him that day, after our last night together, and he looked right through me while his council laughed in my face. He let Zaid ogle me like a lamb chop at market while another one planned my wedding. It was like I wasn’t there at all.”
“I’m not sure that was what you think.” Edlyn handed Fiona another napkin. “Listen, Zaid and Yasir…they were Father’s most trusted advisors. And Bas has to maintain a certain attitude when they’re around. There are protocols he has to follow. His business face doesn’t reflect his heart.” She gripped Fiona’s arms and gave her a shake. “Look at me. Please.”
Fiona looked up, eyes burning.
“It’s been hard on him, losing Father so suddenly. It’s been hard on us all, but Bas has had to mourn and become king at the same time. And you know him. He lives by the rules, and they’ve been his lifeboat, something he could hold onto, no matter what. What you saw, what he did, I’m not going to excuse it, but he’s done it to me too. And I’ve never once doubted he loves me.”
“You’re his sister. Of course he loves you.”
“And he loves you too.” Edlyn nodded firmly. “He’s hardly slept since you left. And if he looked sick the night of the accident, it’s because he was worried. He couldn’t sit still, waiting to see you. If anything had happened to you, I think he’d have died.”
“He wouldn’t.” Fiona looked away, but her heart was pounding. Could it be true? Even if it were, there was nothing to suggest he could change. Nothing to suggest he’d ever put her first.
“He’s already defied the council for you,” said Edlyn. “Bas crossing the line…I’d never have believed it if you didn’t have the evidence in your belly.”
“I’d like to believe it. But every time I let him in…” She sighed. “I can’t take the chance.”
“You can still come back for me, though.” Edlyn finished her tea and snapped her fingers. “Come on. We’re going riding.”
“Edlyn…”
“We’re sisters now. You’re having my niece, or my nephew. You can’t deny your sister.” She pushed back from the table. “Besides, it was supposed to be a surprise, but I baked you a cake. Don’t make me eat it all myself.”
Fiona tried not to smile, but her lips quirked up anyway. “What kind of cake?”
“Almond and praline. Are you coming or not?”
“I’m coming.” She wiped her eyes and stood up. This was a bad idea, she was sure of it, but Edlyn deserved her ride.
One hour, and not a moment longer.
Edlyn took to the saddle like she’d never been away from it, and Fiona found herself caught up in her enthusiasm. They circled the training ring, first at a walk, then at a trot, and Edlyn threw back her head as the wind caught her hair.
“Oh, I can’t wait to try the trails.” She leaned down to kiss her horse’s mane. “You know how nothing’s ever as good as you remembered? Well, this is even better. Like getting my childhood back.”
Fiona thought of that photo from the family album, her father pushing her on the swing. She turned her head to hide her envy. “So you’ll be out here every day?”
“And twice on special occasions.” She slowed down to let Fiona ride up beside her. “I wish you weren’t going. We could have a picnic in the hills, just you and me.”
“I’ll come visit,” said Fiona, though she knew she never would. Bas hadn’t joined them, and that should’ve been a relief, but it felt like a dismissal. Much as she hated to admit it, part of her had been hoping for some grand gesture—expecting it, even. Her heart leaped at every sound and sank when nothing came of it.
“Ah, look at this.” Chadil emerged from the garden, clapping his hands. “Congratulations, Edlyn. You look wonderful.”
“And you look…furtive.” Edlyn wagged her finger. “What are you hiding?”
“I might’ve sampled your cake.” He nodded at Fiona. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.” She glanced over Chadil’s shoulder, but the path was deserted. “It’s good to see you again,” she said.
“And you. Especially as you’ve saved me a trip.”
“A trip?” Her brows went up.
“My brother has sent for you. I was on my way to collect you when my driver informed me you’d already arrived.” He leaned on the fence, smiling. “Don’t hurry on my account, though. Finish your ride.”
Fiona kept moving, but her head was in a whirl. Bas had sent for her? This seemed less a grand gesture and more a show of power. Would he order her to marry him? Revoke her passport? Or maybe this was goodbye, one of those we’ll always have Paris moments.
Or…
She didn’t dare imagine another outcome. She’d let herself dream once before, and Bas had left her shattered.
Whatever the outcome, she’d bear it with dignity. She’d have the rest of her life for what-ifs.
17
Chadil paused under the trees, looking Fiona up and down. “Hold still,” he said.
“What?”
He flicked at her shoulder. “You had a ladybug.”
“Oh.” She smoothed down her sleeve. “How’s Bas been, anyway?”
“You have to ask?” Chadil gestured at himself. “Look how fat I am. He’s been in the kitchen every night, and my waistline’s paying the price.”
Fiona chuckled. “If you say so.” Chadil didn’t look any different, but she supposed he knew best. She followed him up the path, but instead of steering her toward the palace, Chadil headed for the rose garden, where an elaborate tent had been set up. Light music drifted from within, and the scent of sweet incense.
“What is this?” Fiona stopped in her tracks. “Please. Don’t let me walk in unprepared.”
“Bas can’t stand to see you lose everything,” said Chadil. “He blames himself, and I can’t say he’s wrong.”
“And? What’s in that tent?”
“He wouldn’t give us any details.” Chadil lowered his voice, talking fast. “But he wants you to meet someone who has connections in the art world, not just here but all over the world, and a huge estate to house his own collection. He knows of your ambitions and admires them. Please say you’ll meet him. One minute, that’s all.”
“I don’t know….” Fiona looked back the way she’d come. She could still make a break for it, turn tail and run.
“I’ll never hear the end of it if I let you get away.” Chadil hooked her arm through hers. “Obey your king one last time?”
Fiona bristled, but maybe this was for the best. It was just like Bas to bark one last order and expect her to obey. This was what she’d needed all along, proof she’d been right to flee the palace. Tonight at the airport, she’d board without regrets. She drew herself up and let Chadil lead her on.
The music swelled as he pulled back the tent flap. Warm light spilled out, a hundred tiny candles flickering in hanging glass bulbs. Flowers stood along the walls, roses and lilies and chrysanthemums, all her favorites. Bas stood alone in the candlelight, and Fiona’s breath caught in her throat. She turned to Chadil.
“Where’s—”
“Go on.” He gave her a nudge. Fiona stumbled forward and the flap closed behind her. It was just her and Bas, and he was looking at her like he was seeing her for the first time.
“I was wrong,” he
said, and he took a step toward her. “I was wrong about everything. I saw your passion the moment I met you, and I can’t imagine what I was thinking, trying to rob you of your dreams.” He looked down, as though ashamed. “I can’t expect you to forgive me, but I truly hope you will.”
Fiona hesitated. She didn’t doubt Bas’s sincerity—his voice shook with emotion—but words were cheap. “What about your council?” she said. “What happens next time some rule comes between us?”
“It won’t. It can’t.” Bas took another step forward. “I insisted Zaid retire, and I’ve sent Yasir to Moscow. We have little business there. It’s not an honor.” His expression hardened for a moment, then turned to a smile. “Their successors are more modern, and they don’t give a fig about ancient taboos with no relevance. They’ll treat you with respect.”
“And will you?”
“Always.” Bas drew a quick, shuddering breath. “I’ve been a fool. I thought my duty was to the letter of the law, to custom and tradition and the vision of our fathers, but that was a child’s notion of honor. I followed the rules without understanding their purpose or who they were designed to protect, and I hurt you. I know that.” He met Fiona’s eye. “I belong to my people, to the ones who are alive. The ones who need me. Who care for me, perhaps…” He moved closer, and Fiona could see he was trembling. “The rule that kept us apart was never meant for us, not in spirit. Breaking it would’ve kept me from breaking your heart, and for that, I’m truly sorry.”
“Bas…” Fiona darted forward, heart pounding. This was what she’d needed from the start, everything she’d dreamed of. Everything she’d feared he’d never understand.
“I need your wisdom,” said Bas. “I need you at my side. I need you to temper my foolishness and chastise me when I’m blind. But more than that, I want you here. I want a life with you.” He dropped to one knee, fumbling in his pocket.
