by Lexi Blake
“Well, it’s for the best that you didn’t. Did you even think of me after I left or did you move on to the next bloke? I heard later on that you dated Neville Hightower after I left. Quite a step down, I should say.” He turned to go. “I’ll bid you goodnight. I’m sure there’s something Mother has planned for us tomorrow.”
“Stop right there.” She wasn’t putting up with that. She needed to make that clear. “You will not talk to me like that again.”
He turned, his lips quirking in an arrogant smirk. “I’ll talk to you any way I like. Haven’t you heard that I’m the king?”
Now she was finding a little rage of her own. “I don’t care who you are. You will not speak to me like that. If you have a question, I’ll answer it. If you need comfort, I’ll talk to you. Do you think I don’t see through this? This behavior is one of two things. Either you are truly the arrogant ass you’re presenting to me or the day has been too much and I’m a convenient punching bag.”
His face lost that smooth smile. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It has been a long day.”
There was the moment she’d been waiting for. When he realized what he was doing, he backed off. For that, she could reward him. She moved closer, putting her hand on his shoulder and leaning in. “Kashmir, you found out your mother is dying. Of course it’s been a long day.”
His head shook. “I can’t. I can’t even process it right now. Answer my question. It’s easier to focus on this, on us. Please.”
The please did it. Something about a polite man always softened her up. His question. Had she thought about him after that day by the river? “I wrote you letters for a year or so. I came home for the coronation and tried to see you, but they wouldn’t let me through. Too many people and I wasn’t important enough, I suppose. I don’t blame you, Kash. I was some girl you knew at university. You had other things to deal with back then.”
She didn’t blame him. Not anymore. In those first years, she’d been angry with him, mad at herself for letting him in. Now she saw them for what they’d been. Two children trying to navigate a world that constantly attempted to drown them. They were all swimming as hard as they could and there was no blame to be placed.
He stiffened, coming to his full height. “You did what?”
She stepped back. “I wrote you.”
“You wrote me a letter?”
“No, I wrote you probably fifty or sixty. I was lonely after you left. I knew after you didn’t reply to the first five or so that you weren’t going to, but I still liked talking to you. It was probably a silly thing to do. I should have gotten a journal or something, but I didn’t.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. “Dayita, I never got a single letter from you.”
He hadn’t sent one either. It was so long ago. “I sent them to the palace post office. I suspect they deal with hundreds of letters.”
“I should have gotten them. I asked my secretary to send me anything from my friends at Oxford. I got nothing. I was desperate back then. I wanted something, anything to make me feel normal, but all my friends deserted me. I wanted to see you. How can you say you came to the coronation? I offered to send a plane for you. You refused. You said you had too much to do. Why are you lying to me?”
Oh, someone had lied and she could guess whom. Her heart twisted at the thought of Kash being all alone and longing for his friends only to have none reply. “Kash, I never got any correspondence from you. No offer at all. Why would I have turned you down? I came to try to see you. I have pictures of me and my father at the coronation celebrations outside the palace. I assure you I wouldn’t have made a twelve-hour flight in economy if you would have sent a plane. I know Matthew and Roger tried to contact you, too. Your friends didn’t abandon you. They couldn’t get to you.”
“Why?” Kash let go and seemed to stumble a bit before regaining his balance. “Why would she do that to me? My mother is the only one who could have done this. No one else in this palace would have kept something like this from me.”
The last thing he needed was to get angry with his mother. “I’m sure she had her reasons. You needed to be focused on your new duties. You couldn’t spend all your time mooning over a beautiful girl.”
His hands, fisted before, relaxed, and he gave her the first genuine smile she’d seen from him all evening. “Mooning? You think I would moon over you?”
Yes, she was remembering how to handle him. Perhaps there was a bit left of the happy boy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “I’m sure you did, Your Majesty. I can picture you right here, staring out and wishing for your lost love. Maybe you even bought a guitar and learned how to play. You wrote sad songs about how much you missed me.”
He laughed, a magical sound. When Kash laughed, his body shook with it. It reminded her of how passionate he’d been about everything. Kash had an enthusiasm for life that brightened a room when he walked in, that made her look at the world around her differently. He’d been the one to bring her out of her shell.
Had she gone back into it for years because he’d gone away?
He smiled down at her, his hands coming up to frame her face. “I did miss you, Dayita. Those first years, I missed you like crazy.” He sobered a bit. “But I’ve changed. You’re right. I’m not the man I was back then.”
Her heart twisted in disappointment. She’d almost been sure he would kiss her, but he moved back. She tried not to show how much that hurt. A few hours back in his life and she was the one with longing in her heart. It was dangerous, but luckily she was a disciplined woman. She wasn’t a girl anymore. She knew better. And deep down, she’d always known that they’d had their chance and it wouldn’t come again. “I’m not the same either. I’m older, more restrained. I’m comfortable with myself now so I can go into this arrangement with my eyes wide open.”
“Can we not make any more major decisions tonight?” Kash asked.
He looked so tired and she wondered if he had slept at all. She was worried that if she left him alone, he might confront his mother, and they all needed cooler heads to prevail. The past was the past and they had to deal with the future. If she was going to be his wife, she needed to be his friend again, and friends took care of each other. “Come to my room and I’ll get you a drink.”
He cocked a single brow.
Yes, she still remembered how to speak Kashmir. “No, I’m not inviting you into my bed. Have a drink with me and I’ll tell you all about our friends, if you want to know. I’m still close with Roger and Matty.”
He frowned. “And Neville?”
Such a jealous man. “Neville got a bit handsy, and once I broke his fingers he seemed to lose interest in me.”
“Ah, that’s what I like to hear.” Kash reached a hand out. “Are we really going to do this, Day?”
“Only if you want to, Your Majesty.” It had to be his choice in the end, even if most of his options had been taken from him.
He seemed to come to some decision and he pulled her hand to his lips. “All right then, my bride-to-be. I hope Mother stocked your room with whiskey. I could use some. Don’t mind the bodyguards. They follow me. I think they think I’m going to run.”
She’d seen his new American guards. She’d been assigned a couple herself. Michael Malone was a lovely man, and the oddly named Boomer was like a beautiful, massive golden retriever.
She nodded to Mr. Murdoch as they walked back into the palace. He’d been hovering close all night and seemed like a perfectly kind man.
Kash began talking about the old days.
It was time to figure out what kind of man her future husband was. And if he could handle what she needed.
Chapter Three
Kash came awake and sat up in bed. Something was wrong. Different. Definitely different. He was also dressed. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants because he’d sat up for the longest time with Day, talking about old times. They’d started out drinking Scotch, but when she’d switched
to tea, he’d gone along with her. They’d called down to the kitchens and had tea and sandwiches and tiny cakes sent up.
He’d been sad to leave her.
“I feel odd.”
“That’s what it feels like when you don’t wake up with a hangover, Your Majesty,” Simon Weston said as he strode into the bedchamber. “I know it’s terribly odd to realize you remember the evening before, but that’s how it goes. I need to talk to you about security for tonight’s official engagement announcement and celebration. I’m afraid things are going to move quickly over the course of the next two weeks.”
Yes, he did remember. He was getting married to Day. His mother had set it all up, but then it had been his mother who had kept Day from him in the first place. “I need to talk to my mother.”
“She’ll be here in a few moments.” Weston nodded toward the door and the flood of servants began. “She’s coming in with the lord chamberlain. I’ve had breakfast brought in.”
Yes, Kash could see that. His normal breakfast was usually coffee and a protein bar, but this was a full breakfast. Full English. He hadn’t had a full English since his college days. Mostly because it was absolutely terrible for him. He smiled, the memories wafting over him as he smelled the sausages and fried eggs, baked beans and bacon. There was toast and hash browns and tomatoes. “Did you order this? I don’t think my mother’s ever had a fry-up.”
Weston shook his head. “This is for you. I’ve gotten to be too American to possibly handle that breakfast. I’ve got an omelet and some fruit. Your fiancée ordered for you. She’s attempting to take over some of the queen’s duties.”
His stomach grumbled and he couldn’t help but smile. Day remembered. They’d often had breakfast together and he would always order a full English breakfast. She would wrinkle her nose as she ate some tiny thing and drank an enormous cup of coffee. He’d never had a woman other than his mother order breakfast for him.
There were only four plates. He hoped Hanin was sitting off to the side somewhere and he could ignore him, but somehow he doubted the world would be so kind to him. That meant there wasn’t a place for Day.
“Should we invite my…?” He’d almost called her his wife. It was weird. He would have a wife in two weeks’ time. “Should we invite the future queen? She might have something to say about her schedule.”
Weston took a cup of coffee from the young woman serving breakfast. “Ms. Samar is also indisposed. She’s having a spa day. I hope you don’t mind, but my Chelsea and Jesse’s wife, Phoebe, offered to join her. Apparently Ms. Samar doesn’t have many close girlfriends, and spa days are much more fun when shared. I also think we should talk about a few specific threats that could be rather stressful for your bride-to-be. I thought I would talk about those before your mother gets here.”
“Threats?” He smiled at the maid, who handed him a perfectly brewed cup of coffee. Usually he gulped it down, desperately needing the caffeine. It was nice to savor it, to truly taste the unique flavor. He’d missed this coffee. Loa Mali coffee was unlike anything else he’d ever tried. “Are you talking about the antimonarchists? They love to threaten me. They never do anything at all about it.”
All talk. Blah. Blah. Kill the king. Blah. Blah something boring and political. Death to the Kamdars. Blah. So typical and yet they never even tried to murder him.
“I think there’s something different now,” Weston said.
“Why now?”
“Because up until now you’ve shown no signs of any chance that you would marry soon. Without marriage there was always the possibility that the monarchy would end with you.”
“I’m not the last Kamdar. My cousin could take the throne if something happened to me.”
“Chapal?”
“Yes, he is obnoxious but quite intelligent.” After all, he was a Kamdar.
“He’s also gay.”
Kash waved that thought off. “Yes, though he is a terrible dresser. No style at all. What his husband sees in him I will never know.”
“By constitutional law, he can take the throne, but unless he is willing to procreate, the line would end with him.”
Ah, he hadn’t thought of that. He’d always thought that Chapal would carry on and be the absolute worst-dressed homosexual king in the world. His husband, Ben, would have to do all the hard work of making things livable in the palace. Chapal was too attached to his bloody computer.
But after Kash, Chapal was the last Kamdar. “I’ll start the wheels to change that. The world is not where it was two hundred years ago. If Chapal adopts, his child should not be punished. We’re not in the Dark Ages, though the antimonarchists would have you believe it. So you think they’re serious this time because I’m getting married?”
“You’ve gotten threats?” His mother walked into the room, her voice strong but her body seemingly so frail.
Kash stood and walked to her, offering her his hand to steady her. He ignored Hanin, who walked in behind her. Hanin would be gone soon enough. He would allow the man to stay around because his mother favored him, but the minute she was gone so was Hanin.
His stomach turned. Had he really just thought about his mother being dead?
“Are you all right?” His mother stared up at him.
“I’m fine. I’m adjusting.” And not well. He was floundering. “Come along. We have much to talk about and your breakfast is ready.”
She waved him off but found her chair. “I’ll have some tea, please.”
“Your son’s fiancée ordered you tea and toast,” Weston said.
“I told the cook the queen wasn’t interested in food.” Hanin sat down to his own breakfast, setting aside his ever-present planner.
“And my daughter-in-law-to-be wished to give me the choice.” His mother picked up a knife and began to butter her toast. “I think this should be quite nice. My stomach can’t handle much right now, but this looks good.”
Day was getting his mother to eat even when she wasn’t here. Still, he was angry with her. Oddly, not as angry as he’d been the night before. He’d wanted to rage at her, but hours in Day’s company had defused the anger and what that hadn’t calmed, seeing his mother’s frail figure had. He settled himself into his chair, his appetite coming back. “Mr. Weston was talking about the antimonarchists.”
Hanin’s mouth curled in obvious distaste. “Animals, all of them.”
“I’m sure they would say they’re fighting for democracy,” Weston replied.
“They’re threatening my son?” His mother carefully scooped out the jam Dayita had sent with the toast. “They do this all the time. I’m sure they’re particularly nasty now that the wedding has been called and they know the monarchy shall persevere.”
“They’re threatening to stop the wedding.” Weston sat back. “I’ve sent each of you my plans for security. It will be very tight, and everyone will be vetted by my firm. I suggest allowing in one sanctioned photographer and one reporter. The queen-to-be would like to auction off the photos, with all proceeds going to a charitable fund for education.”
The future queen was practically a saint. “Whatever she would like. I don’t think I want to do a ton of press though. How are we framing this? Does the world know this is an arranged marriage?”
“Of course not,” his mother replied. “As far as anyone knows, you and Dayita met in England and drifted apart but now you’ve gotten close again. Everyone knows you’re a bit on the reckless side. They will assume Day is pregnant and that is the reason for the hasty wedding. If you could make that happen on the honeymoon, it would be wonderful.”
Ah, there was his irritation. Not even the lovely eggs could get rid of it. “My procreation will be my choice, Mother. You’ve interfered enough.”
Hanin sat straight up. “You can’t talk to the queen mother that way.”
“Bah,” his mother replied. “I’m happy he’s talking to me at all. If I have one thing to be grateful to the cancer for, it’s the guilt that’s kept my son fr
om running away to be with loose women. He always runs for the loose ones.”
“Or the spies,” Weston added helpfully. “When I first met him he was entertaining several hookers and a couple of undercover spies.”
Ah, the beautiful Kayla. Yes, he’d called her his Asian lily, and she’d been an American double agent. She’d quite scared him at times. Brutal girl, but lovely. “Could we forego hashing through ancient history? Well, not entirely. I would like to know why you chose Day as my bride when you did everything you could to keep us apart fifteen years ago.”
His mother flushed but remained steady as a rock. “Because I figured out I was wrong all those years ago. You have to understand that everything was crazy after your father and Shray died. You came home and all you would talk about was some young lady I’d never met before. I needed you focused on taking the crown. We were desperate at the time. I was desperate at the time.”
She’d been alone, her whole world washed out from under her. Perhaps a few years before he wouldn’t have been able to see things in such a fashion, but he could now. Still. “I only wanted to see her. I wanted something that was mine.”
“And I needed you to see the crown as yours. I needed you focused on the country.” His mother reached out, sliding her hand over his. “I was wrong, but at the time I thought I was right. I thought the feelings you had for Dayita were nothing more than a childish crush on a girl who likely reminded you of home. You didn’t fight hard. You sent her a single invitation and then we heard nothing more. She sent years of letters. I thought it was one sided.”
Had that really been it? At the time he’d felt so crushed. She hadn’t answered a single request and he’d given up, moved on. Day had written him letter after letter. She’d flown a thousand miles to see him.
He’d been the faithless one.
