There really was no point in pretending any longer that she was any different to her mother when it came to seeking acceptance and love. And it seemed she had just the same knack for getting herself into trouble.
She had fallen madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with a man who would never feel the same.
* * *
‘I see no further point in avoiding the reason why we are here. You invited us here to discuss strategy, did you not?’ Khal spoke coolly from where he sat in King Fabian’s large study. The man had been blathering on in detail about the extremely positive financial reports that had just been published in the Monteverrian parliament. Khal did not have time to soothe the King’s fragile ego at present and found his patience had worn utterly thin since entering into his presence.
‘We are still awaiting members of your team, I believe,’ one of King Fabian’s chief aides said in his monotone voice.
‘My team will jump in when they arrive.’ Khal opened the large black file that his personal secretary handed him. ‘I will begin with a report on what Zayyar has done since we received first notification of this breach. Since this story broke my team and I have received minor retractions from three of the major global news sources. We have released intimate photographs of our wedding in order to redirect media attention and we have also initiated investigations into the nature of Queen Cressida’s rights with regard to the legal agreements that were signed twelve years ago.’
‘Have you indeed?’ King Fabian’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m glad that you are assuming responsibility for your Queen. I had half expected you to try to shirk off the duty to me.’
Khal flattened his palms on the table, inhaling deeply against his sudden urge to resort to physical violence. ‘As this matter preceded our union, Cressida was insistent that your government have their say in the PR, considering that it is the Sandoval name being dragged through the mud. Believe me, had the decision been solely mine, I would not have been so merciful.’
‘Merciful?’ King Fabian’s eyes bulged. ‘You seem to have developed quite a tendre for your convenient bride, considering she was a poor replacement for the one you truly wanted. How is Roman Lazarov these days?’
Khal smiled at the obvious barb. ‘If this is how you conduct political meetings, I can see how you brought your kingdom to such a spectacular ruin in such a short time.’
Both men stood up from the table just as the door burst open and the remainder of Khal’s team entered.
‘Apologies for the delay, Your Highness,’ said the chief of his foreign affairs team, out of breath. ‘There has been an urgent development from Zayyar.’
‘Well, spit it out. We’ve been waiting long enough,’ King Fabian said impatiently.
Khal nodded once to the man. ‘If it is urgent and it involves Monteverre, go ahead.’
The man looked momentarily unsure of himself, adjusting his collar as though it was too tight around his neck. ‘It seems...that the marriage agreement between Monteverre and Zayyar has been called into question,’ he said slowly, drawing a sheaf of documents from his briefcase.
‘That agreement has been signed and done with,’ Fabian exclaimed, the rims of his eyes turning an angry red. ‘Whatever underhand treachery this is, I won’t tolerate it for one moment. Not one!’
‘Called into question, how, exactly?’ Khal ignored the other man’s outburst, feeling a strange floating sensation in his solar plexus.
‘Well, Your Highness, Zayyari law demands clear and truthful reporting of parentage. Both biological and legal. Parliament has proposed to nullify the marriage on the grounds that your bride forged her documentation.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘NULLIFY,’ KHAL REPEATED, the word tasting sour on his tongue. ‘Even if the marriage has been consummated?’
‘If you rule in its favour, yes. You hold the deciding vote, Sire.’
‘I called this meeting in order to reach an agreement to manage a scandal, not create an entirely new one,’ King Fabian’s voice growled from the other side of the table.
‘Do you deny that you deliberately withheld vital information in order to expedite my marriage to your daughter?’ Khal met the King’s eyes.
‘I am her father by law,’ Fabian said rather weakly.
‘Funny how you find that so easy to say now that you see your upward financial swing could be at risk.’
‘Are you going to do as they say, then?’
Khal could see the barest hint of fear in the slight widening of the other man’s eyes. He momentarily contemplated launching into a list of reasons why he would not be discussing his plans with the man who had emotionally blackmailed his own daughter into marrying a stranger, but he found he had suddenly lost all desire to waste his energy a moment longer. He instructed his team to close the meeting on his behalf and quickly excused himself from the room. He knew he should go to Cressida immediately and tell her everything that had been said. But what exactly would he say?
His thoughts took him out into the grounds of the palace, memory directing him to where he knew a small collection of stallions were kept in a paddock. He had spent some time in Monteverre while negotiating the beginning of the marriage deal that would change his life so completely. He chose a large Arabian named Bruno and borrowed a pair of boots from the groomsman. The paddock was not as long as his desert outlands in Zayyar but it served its purpose, giving both him and the horse just enough space in which to race out their excess energy and quiet their minds.
He thought of Cressida’s face when she’d spoken of her work, of the life she’d lived in London before he’d come crashing into it. She had told him she felt truly happy in that old life. Would she ever truly feel at peace as Sheikha of Zayyar? She had said time and time again that she was not suited to a public role. That she missed the solitude of her library and the simplicity of a private existence.
Could he really deny her the chance to turn back the hands of time and make a choice based solely on what she wanted to do? These thoughts haunted him even after the sun began to dip low in the sky. Realising he had spent longer than intended out of the palace, he released the stallion to the groomsman and made his way back inside.
They had been assigned a guest suite in the opposite wing to the family; he took the steps up two at a time, eager to get the conversation over with. When he entered the bedroom, however, he found Cressida asleep on the bed. He stood in the doorway for a long while, not wanting to wake her. There was a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t understand.
He had no way to be sure what she would decide once he told her of the option to annul their short marriage. He could simply make a phone call and have parliament vote against the whole thing, bury the entire idea as though it had never existed. She would never even know it had been spoken of...
But that would be selfish and he had gained enough self-awareness to know that he could not make this kind of choice for her. Lying to her or withholding information was not protecting her, it was something the old Khal would have done from a place of fear. Regressing was not something that he could justify. She had not been shown much kindness in her life, despite her royal upbringing. She had been used as a pawn in battles between her parents and palmed off as a political sacrifice to a man who was far too broken to ever give her the kind of life she deserved. She deserved to live the life she chose, even if that life did not include him.
Cressida stirred in the bed, a smile brightening her entire face at the same moment that she opened her eyes and saw him. ‘What time is it?’ she murmured huskily, stretching her arms.
‘Almost six,’ Khal said, forcing himself to remain still when all he wanted to do was close the distance between them and draw her into his embrace.
‘Did the meeting go well? Have you come to an agreement for the press strategy?’ she asked, standing up to reveal she wore only one of his T-shirts. She smirked as his
gaze darkened. ‘Sorry, I couldn’t bear the thought of digging through half of the gowns in my case to find my own T-shirt so I stole one of yours.’
This image might very well be imprinted on his brain for ever, he thought with a cruel twist of his lips. She had never looked more tempting than at this moment, wearing one of his white T-shirts. The garment went to her mid-thigh, showcasing her long slim legs. But he was not a barbarian, even though the world claimed he was. Putting his libido firmly in check, he took a few steps away, just as they were interrupted by her assistants arriving to begin preparing her for the evening.
Cressida looked at him uncertainly. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked with a frown. ‘I can have them come back if you need to talk?’
Khal paused, realising that he had just been about to launch into a very heavy conversation less than an hour before they were due to be seen in public. Cursing his own stupidity, he hastily assured her that everything was okay and excused himself to allow her team to go about their preparations. There was plenty of time to talk tomorrow, he told himself. One more night would not change matters. He went about readying himself, ignoring the niggling feeling that he was simply delaying the inevitable.
* * *
Cressida moved to the edge of the party; the air had become uncomfortably warm as more and more guests arrived. She had been told there would be a small gathering of Monteverrian dignitaries and wealthy society favourites in order to show that the royal family stood strong against the scandal. But it seemed half of the kingdom had arrived to get a glimpse of the Sheikh of Zayyar and his scandalous wife.
But as she breathed in the night air, looking at the beautiful ornate fountain and surrounding shrubbery, all lit up in pink and orange lights, she wondered if a husband who was simply understanding would ever be enough. Her mother had said that she and her father had experienced a burning passion in the beginning, then that passion had burnt out, leaving nothing but discontent and resentment in its wake. Without a true emotional connection, would she ever feel secure in her marriage?
‘It seems desert life suits you,’ a familiar voice came from behind her. Cressida turned to find her middle sister, Olivia, standing in the doorway, her silver gown sparkling like an angel. She couldn’t help it; she burst into tears just as Olivia’s arms surrounded her in an embrace.
‘What are you doing here?’ she half choked between sobs.
Olivia wiped one of the tears from her cheek, her classically beautiful features filled with concern. ‘We saw the news and we came straight here. Did you know about...the affair?’
Cressida filled her sister in on the entire story, beginning with her mother’s version of the affair, leading into her own discovery and Fabian’s subsequent emotional blackmail. Once she had finished, they sat in silence for a moment, Olivia shaking her head slightly.
‘This family is utterly insane,’ Olivia said simply. ‘I have never been more grateful for my new distance.’
Cressida smiled, leaning her head against her sister’s arm for a moment. Olivia had been the only person she had ever felt a true connection with in her family. Eleanor had always been too busy to entertain her, being the oldest and set to become Queen of Monteverre one day. But Olivia had taught her how to braid her hair and told her the latest gossip from school. She had always envied her sister for her natural beauty and easy elegance. She was talented too, having recently taken the reins of their grandmother’s literacy foundation after relinquishing her royal status.
‘You seem happy,’ Cressida said. ‘I’m glad.’
‘Roman is wonderful,’ Olivia said, a dreamy look crossing her features. ‘But I’m also feeling fulfilment from working for the first time in my life.’ She smiled widely. ‘But I’m sure you know all about that, having had years of freedom in London.’
Cressida thought of that time in her life; it seemed so long ago. ‘I do miss it,’ she said truthfully. ‘I envy you.’
‘You could always join forces with me; goodness knows I could use someone with your kind of language skills, Cress.’ Olivia’s eyes lit up for a moment before she frowned. ‘But, of course, you have your own set of responsibilities now. I doubt the Sheikha of a country has time to go travelling around the world teaching children to read?’
The sudden mixture of longing and disappointment that filled her chest took her by surprise. The idea of travelling, seeing the world while at the same time using her knowledge and expertise to teach... She sighed wistfully. But, of course, she had her life in Zayyar and her duties as Sheikha. That should be enough for her. She loved Khal and a small part of her hoped that in time he could come to love her too. But the thought of teaching...
Olivia cleared her throat beside her. ‘We could join forces to do a one off event with the foundation, maybe. It would be great to reconnect and spend time together.’
Cressida opened her mouth to speak, but at the same moment Khal decided to make his appearance on the terrace, followed closely by Roman Lazarov. Olivia’s Russian fiancé had once been Khal’s Chief of Security and best friend. It wasn’t exactly clear how he had come to be engaged to her sister, but it was obvious that it had made things strained between the two men. Khal looked from Cressida to her sister, an unreadable expression crossing his features.
‘Olivia was just telling me about her work with the literacy foundation,’ Cressida said brightly, covertly trying to swipe away the remnants of her crying episode from her cheeks.
‘It’s nice to see you again, Sheikh Khalil.’ Olivia smiled, nodding politely. ‘I was just trying to persuade my sister to put her amazing language skills to good use with the literacy foundation.’
A strange expression crossed Khal’s dark features as he looked from Olivia to her. ‘Cressida is very talented. She would make an excellent teacher.’
Cressida blushed. She had expected to feel some jealousy with Olivia, considering that her sister had been Khal’s original intended bride. But for some reason she did not. Maybe it was the way that Roman and her sister looked at each other, so full of love and happiness. Or maybe it was the fact that she still held out hope that Khal might come to look at her in that same way.
A commotion inside the doorway took their attention and Khal moved aside just in time for the terrace doors to swing open and Queen Aurelia to burst through them.
‘I’m done! I want divorce papers drawn up immediately in the morning,’ the older woman proclaimed, followed closely by Eleanor and King Fabian. A trio of guards closed the terrace doors, blocking out the scene from the rest of the party.
‘Mother, please. At least wait until tomorrow,’ Eleanor chided in her best peacekeeping voice as she took her mother by the hand.
‘I’ve waited decades!’ Aurelia exclaimed.
Cressida was shocked to realise that her mother was sober; she could tell by the lucidity in her eyes and the hint of colour in her cheeks. She could not remember the last time she had seen her mother look so awake and present.
‘Another grand debacle for the entire society to talk about,’ King Fabian said, bored. ‘I suppose it has been a few months since the last embarrassment.’ He looked pointedly towards Roman and Olivia.
Khal moved to Cressida’s side, taking her by the hand. ‘I think it’s best if we go back inside,’ he said quietly.
‘And leave them like this?’
‘They are adults, habibti. There is nothing we can do to change whatever is about to transpire. You will only put yourself in the firing line by being present.’
Cressida nodded at his sense, feeling a glow of warmth in the way he stood as her protector. She made to move with him towards the doors, whispering a quiet goodbye to her sisters as her mother continued to berate her father loudly in the background.
‘Hold on just a moment,’ King Fabian cut across his wife’s emotional tirade, his eyes black slits as he took a step towards Cressida. ‘As I’m app
arently about to suffer an embarrassing and probably expensive divorce, can I at least take it that you two lovebirds have decided to remain married after all?’
Cressida frowned at her father’s question—what did he mean, remain married? She looked up at Khal, seeing that same stressed expression that he had been wearing all evening.
‘This is not the time or the place, Fabian,’ Khal gritted.
‘I want it in writing that you will not nullify the marriage or the financial transactions that came with it, do you hear me? I want it iron-clad or I will make sure that your kingdom suffers every political roadblock possible.’
‘What is he talking about?’ Cressida turned to her husband.
‘We will speak in private,’ Khal gritted, his attention still focused on her father. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, an awful ruthlessness that she had never witnessed before. It made her recoil slightly, taking a step back from him.
‘Cressida,’ he said sternly, ‘I will not discuss this here.’ He reached for her but was blocked by her two sisters, who moved in to stand at her sides.
‘What is he talking about...a nullification?’ Cressida asked, feeling her hands begin to tremble.
‘Parliament have undertaken a motion to dismiss our marriage contract on the grounds of forgery.’ Khal’s voice was emotionless as he spoke. ‘They are saying that because you deliberately withheld the truth of your parentage that I can choose to nullify the contract.’
Cressida felt the ground sway beneath her. ‘I see.’
‘I did not wish to discuss this with an audience.’ He met her eyes. ‘I think this is a matter that we should weigh up alone.’
Weigh up? He was discussing the possibility of ending their marriage as though the list of pros and cons was endless. Cressida thought that if she could actually feel her own heart breaking, the pain would be unbearable. As it was, she simply felt numb. ‘I don’t think we need to weigh up much. If parliament says that my parentage is unacceptable then you need to do what is right for your kingdom. I won’t contest any nullification.’
Claiming His Replacement Queen Page 15
