"It's Gwen, remember? And that's lie number two." She held up a pair of fingers. "By the way, I think your fiancée just flirted with me. At your engagement ceremony."
A waiter passed with a tray of drinks. As much as he felt like going against his no-drinking policy, Walid did not take one. If he did, he would not stop at one. Or even a dozen. He might not stop until they laid him in the ground.
Gwendolyn, of course, did not take one because she was pregnant, her round belly sailing in front of her like the prow of a ship. Though he was no expert, she looked far too pregnant for six months. He strongly suspected his brother would be welcoming two offspring into the world in a few months.
A loud laugh rang across the room, higher and more musical than anyone else's voice. His fiancée's laugh.
She looked amazing in her white lace dress. She commanded the attention of everyone who saw her. The international press would swarm to her beauty, her presence, and the disgraceful antics he predicted for the future.
"I am aware of the issues," he told Gwendolyn. "Please trust me."
"I would put my life in your hands, but I have to ask. Whatever you're after here, is it worth marrying her?"
No, he could not say. Nothing is worth marrying her and sending Noelle away.
Nothing except Askar, and making up for the terrible mistakes he had made again and again.
He had not spoken to Noelle since their interaction on the dune of Agatir. He had delegated her departure to others, not being able to face it himself. Cowardly, he knew. But he had suffered for it all the same. As he had when she had left him before, his whole self had reacted to her departure. Less than an hour ago, he had felt the tearing, ripping sensation, as if a part of his body was being wrenched from him. Like losing a limb.
The feeling was made worse by the knowledge that she felt for him the way he felt for her. She had not said as much at Agatir, but he knew it in any case.
He must put such feelings aside now, and concentrate on the good of Askar. He must learn to make peace with Kalilah and her grandmother. Find a way to compromise with them, to put the country first.
After all, Askar was all he had now.
Gwendolyn must have sensed his weakness. "Walid, your father sacrificed you and Ithnan, and even Thale, for his stupid games and it didn't even work. You don't have to continue his dumb-ass legacy. You had to drink his poison when you were a kid, but you make the decisions now."
"Gwen, I was to unite the kingdoms, and I have lost Zallaq." And plunged Askar into debt--but he could not say that to her, no matter how much he wished to. He was doing what was right. His father would not have sacrificed himself for Askar, for all his talk of reuniting Zallaq and Sadad with Askar.
"I didn't know your father, but I think he obsessed about the reunification of the three kingdoms because something was broken in him. Maybe he imagined that if he could put the kingdoms together, it would make him whole. He expected you to fix the kingdoms, thinking it would fix him, too. That wasn't your fault, Walid."
This was not my fault. I was not responsible for this decision. Wasn't that what Noelle had told him to say to himself?
"Someone recently said something similar to me," he said. "But nothing changes the fact that I failed in the task."
"Sounds like a smart guy. Okay, so you failed. So what? Is the sky falling? Is there war and famine and death everywhere?"
"There is peace," he conceded. "Relations between Askar and the province of Zallaq are positive."
His sister-in-law made the very exaggerated motion of putting her hand to her ear. "The, I'm sorry, what of Zallaq? I didn't quite catch that."
He rolled his eyes, but could not help the small smile that infringed on his dark mood. "The kingdom of Zallaq."
"Why thank you."
"My father was not Askar," he found himself saying. It seemed out of the blue, even to himself.
Gwendolyn did not seem surprised by the sentiment. "Uh, no, I'm pretty sure he wasn't."
"You said that he felt reuniting the country would make him whole," Walid explained. "But he was not Askar. He did not even represent Askar."
How could his father have been Askar? Noelle was. Her green eyes were the waters of Lake Marawi. Her golden hair was the sand of the desert. Her curves were the valleys of Al Fao. Her determined soul was the soul of his people, who wished only their freedom and a chance to work toward their own happiness.
And she gave up too easily. She would not get what she wanted until she pushed through the strongest adversity. Her bravery and her crazy thinking would get her to that end, eventually. She would learn to face and defeat her villain, if only she did not lose the impulse to jump out windows.
He had tried to keep her safe, and to convince her to passively accept that she would be rescued. He'd been wrong.
He should have been jumping out windows with her.
"You're right, Walid," his little sister said. "Your dad wasn't Askar. You are."
He found himself unable to respond. He had never equated himself with his country. The idea was ludicrous. Him?
His silence did not matter, as Gwendolyn continued without prompting. "I've always thought of you that way. Your father was the guardian of both you and the country, and he treated you both the same way. He cared more about his own agenda than he did about either of you. He lied to you both, he used you both, and he separated Ithnan from both of you.
"Now," she continued, "you're going to make the mistake of tying yourself to that woman. And along with you, Askar. You both deserve better, Walid. But it's your decision, and that's all I'm going to say. Ever. Now, I have to find a toilet and grace it with my royal pee. Bend down."
Like an automaton, he did as he was ordered, and received a kiss on the cheek before Gwendolyn strode off. Was it possible he was not the only one who enjoyed baiting his brother?
The party continued around him, everyone making conversation until the blessings would be spoken as the sun set, representing the ending of their separate lives.
As he watched Kalilah from across the room, he took in her beautiful face, her stunning body, and listened to her lyrical laugh, it occurred to him that he hated everything about her.
She was clearly marrying a man she did not love to placate her grandmother. Possibly did not even like, for the purposes of... he had no idea why. Would she be faithful to him? It seemed unlikely.
That woman would be his children's mother, the mother of the next king or queen of Askar. They would learn how to be adults from their parents, from him and from her.
What would she teach them? The way to live is to be polite and civil to your partner. That conflict is resolved with compromise. Not bad lessons.
From her, they would also learn to hide their pain behind flippant remarks. That other people could direct your life and you had no say in it. That power and position was more important than anything else.
From himself, the lessons they would learn were not much better. Worse, in fact. He had had a pirate princess and had given her up. Out of guilt. Guilt for actions that no one else seemed to blame him for. They would learn to sacrifice everything they wished for to make others happy.
Why did Kalilah not speak up for herself? Why not throw things and assert herself and do everything in her power to stop the disaster from happening?
Why was she not tying bedsheets together to lower herself out the window?
Then again, why was he not doing tying the linens together?
Something under his ribcage leapt at the idea. Gwendolyn was likely being escorted onto an airplane right now, but that did not mean so much.
He glanced toward the balcony. They were not so far off the ground. It was only three stories. Four, at the most.
No, no, he could not. Running away would not solve Askar's problem. Doing so would leave the country vulnerable. No matter what his wishes, he could not leave his country dangling from a rope in midair.
He could not escape. He needed to solve Askar's
crisis. If he could not reunify the three kingdoms, then he had to do that, at least.
Or... perhaps there was a way to do both.
His body went numb at the idea that thrust itself into his mind. The sounds, the smells, the sights of the party--he sensed everything as if there was a gulf between him and the gathering.
The plan that had sprung into his mind would work. He could solve Askar's problem and unite the three kingdoms. And all he had to do was something infinitely more frightening than jumping out a window. Not to mention give up the future that had been planned for him since he was born.
Yet it was the right thing to do. And, when the dust settled, he would have a chance at a pirate princess.
Ahoy, said something in his head.
Before he lost all courage and returned to sanity, he walked across to his brother and scowled at the circle of people who'd been having a conversation with him until they all bowed to him and left.
"Ithnan," Walid said, in Arabic, when they had privacy. "May I speak to you?"
His brother eyed the places where, moments ago, several people had been standing. "Apparently."
He inhaled air that tasted thick with both failure and hope. "I wish to ask for your help. I have long hid my country's--no, my own vulnerability from you. I fear to reveal it now."
"Brother, you preserved Zallaq when you could have taken advantage. Without your calm nature and care for the people of both Askar and Zallaq, we could have been at war for years now, and both our countries would have been easy prey for the influences that are affecting others at this point. I know you have reasons not to trust me, but I have every reason to trust you and to repay you for the changes you have facilitated in my life."
As he listened to his brother's speech, spoken as if it had been prepared for some time, Walid grew more certain of his plan. And more shamed that he had ever allowed their father's caustic ideas to rule his life.
Ithnan had become a wise, just man. His union with Gwendolyn had completed his transformation into an honest one as well.
An ideal ruler. Zallaq could do no better. Neither could Askar.
Ithnan placed his hand on Walid's shoulder. "I can do nothing but promise your secrets will remain with me if you choose to share, say... that Askar needs to borrow the money to complete its portion of the pipeline project?"
His mouth went dry. "You know about that."
"The signs were there, if you know how to read them."
"Or if you have spies in Askar."
"I did not need them," Ithnan assured him. "Father cannot have left Askar in a good financial position, and then there was the matter of the investment with Oldrich. One does not have to be a spy to note that a hotel is not being built where a hotel was intended to be built. And now you are marrying that girl for the sake of her money."
"Very well. Askar does not have the funds to continue its financial commitment to the Nahr pipeline," he admitted. The words turned out to be less painful than the anticipation of them. "I had thought of borrowing the funds from you, but that is not the best course of action."
"If you wish to marry that girl, I cannot stop you, but I am ready with the means to free you from having to do so." Ithnan adjusted the cuffs of his shirt beneath his finely tailored suit jacket, which Walid had noted was a particular quirk of his. The motion indicated his brother's discomfort. The two of them were still repairing their broken relationship, so his brother did not want to say it, but Ithnan was adamantly against him wedding Kalilah.
"I had not planned to ask you for the money. I wished to ask you--" Walid took in a deep breath, perhaps the last one he would take as king. "Do you want to rule Askar?"
Ithnan's eyebrows rose and his jaw fell. His gaze darted over Walid's shoulder, most likely to where his wife stood.
"I am serious," he assured his brother. "You will have to take on the debt of the pipeline, of course. But this makes sense for all of us. Zallaq and Askar will never again be in conflict, and you can reunite Sadad as well, when the time comes."
He would make up for his cooperation with Father. There would be no more guilt. Even now, just by speaking of these things, he felt freer, more certain of himself. He had regrets, but they would be in his past.
As for his future, it could contain a certain pirate princess. All he would have to do was rescue her from the tall tower of her family's influence.
An intriguing challenge, especially when one was penniless.
"Brother..." Ithnan began, but did not seem to know what to say. "I cannot..."
A germ of something began to grow under his ribs. It took him a moment to identify what. To his surprise, the growing emotion was amusement.
To see his calm, assured brother tongue-tied and caught off guard? A pleasure. He felt devilish, like a small child who had thrown a lizard in someone's dinner just to see the person react. His entire body had lightened.
Was this how Noelle had felt when she rebelled against him? If so, he could see why she took such pleasure doing so. This sensation of lightness and superiority could easily be addictive.
He really must do this kind of thing more often in the future. Starting now. Continuing with some sort of large gesture that would put the same stunned and confused look that Ithnan wore onto Noelle's face. "You are the best man for the job, I think, akhi al-sagheer. I will be happy to help with the transition. An enormous coronation is in order. Gwendolyn will be radiant, I think."
Ithnan simply blinked at him, unable to react, unable to speak.
Walid clapped his hand on his little brother's shoulder. "Perhaps you should call your wife over and inform her she is soon to acquire a new crown--"
At that moment, a female voice rang out, drowning the string quartet and ending every conversation in the ballroom.
"Stop the wedding!"
Instinct took over. He was sprinting toward Noelle--because it had to be Noelle and no other--before he remembered that he should maintain dignity in front of his guests. Then he recalled where he was and how he should be acting, and he realized he no longer cared.
The crowd parted for him, and there she was. Noelle, her beautiful eyes frantic, being restrained by some guards who were looking to each other in confusion. For weeks, they had been tasked with preventing her from leaving, and now they must drag her away?
He ended the guards' hesitation with a quick hand gesture indicating that they should cease.
"Stop the wedding," Noelle repeated, as if she were in some television drama. Her hair appeared as if it had been through a hurricane. The lower half of her face was covered with dusty smudges. The skirt she wore was ripped far up the thigh. And, for some reason, she wore a hat that he recognized as being from the uniform of his security staff.
She had never looked more beautiful to him.
A sudden pain exploded in his shoulder, as if he'd been punched. As he rubbed the injury, he looked down at his fierce-faced sister-in-law, who was cradling a closed fist.
"You're an idiot," she told him, as she stepped forward to talk to Noelle.
*****One hour earlier*****
This is what I wanted, Noelle reminded herself, not for the first time. I wanted to leave, and he let me leave.
Still, the last time she'd been in the back of this limo, Walid had drawn her onto his lap and kissed the stuffing out of her.
Then he'd pushed her away. Just like now.
She considered the minibar as her driver sped the vehicle down the divided highway. Enormous palm trees swayed in the median, reminding her of her failure at Agatir.
I guess you won, though, Bonnie said. He let you go. Whoopee.
Oh, go suck an egg, she told her invisible friend. Did you help? Did anything you got me to do help at all? All we did was nothing.
We tried.
It didn't work. Nothing we tried worked. Just like nothing in my life has ever worked.
Yeah, so? Only an eleven-year-old could put as much belligerence into two words as Bonnie did.
; So, what's the point? It was all a waste, she returned.
The point is to try things until they do work. Do you think I got to be captain on my first day?
Bonnie, didn't you declare yourself captain on the first day? Why yes, yes, I think you did, she fired back, not bothering to mention that a) Bonnie was a figment of her own imagination, and b) there was no boat to be captain of.
Well, okay, maybe that's a bad example. But we would have escaped eventually.
Or not, she countered.
Stop it, Bonnie yelled. Stop giving up!
Everything is against me, though. I mean, I might as well go back to San Francisco and do whatever Dad wants.
You are the worst, pouted Bonnie. Why do I hang out with you? What happened to the chainsaw? No real pirate would ever talk that way.
That would be because I'm not a pirate, she pointed out.
Of course you are, Noelle. You always have been. You just forgot for a while, that's all. You let other people stop you. Knock it off. You're a pirate and I can prove it.
Oh, this'll be good. Hit me with your best shot, Noelle fired back, rolling her eyes at nobody.
If you aren't a pirate, how do you know where the treasure is?
But I don't... The thought faded away in her mind, replaced with clues falling into place like the most perfect game of Tetris ever. Walid's great-grandfather. A map that hid things instead of showed them, except for one clue. And her, knowing Walid, and knowing who was like Walid.
That chapel. That ceiling with lights flashing down onto an altar that didn't match the decor.
Oh, Sheikh Osman was so good. And, in the end, he really had given the one clue that anyone really needed to find the Palm.
If, of course, they happened to be a pirate princess.
I know where the treasure is! she screamed at Bonnie in her head.
Told ya, said a very self-satisfied eleven-year-old imaginary friend.
Noelle's brain practically whirred. She could solve this. She could fix everything.
But first, you have to get back, Bonnie said.
Right.
Noelle hit the intercom button discreetly hidden in the leather console of the seat. "Driver, turn the limo around. We're going back to the palace."
Desert Sheikh vs American Princess Page 21
