by Marian Tee
The next thing she knew, she had already whirled around and was marching determinedly towards the group of women. The guests in her way immediately scooted back at the militant look on the queen’s face, and both Kyria and Jennifer appear startled when Harper suddenly joined them.
“Your Majesty.”
All of the women except for Jennifer bowed in her presence.
“It’s my personal belief that we’re all created equally,” the other woman said with a smile, “so I hope you don’t mind if I don’t bow and scrape.” Like others do.
Everyone heard the unspoken implication, yet another example of the woman’s unbelievable tendency to be microagressive, but this only made Harper even more determined. Smiling back, she said easily, “I don’t mind at all. I think it’s important we don’t impose our own beliefs on others, especially if such beliefs do no harm. You agree with this, too, don’t you?”
“Actually...” Jennifer’s tone was of polite amusement. “It’s the cornerstone of my platform.” The words were spoken in such a way that made the queen appear uninformed, and the other women in their growing crowd shifted uneasily on their feet. “I even spoke of this recently when CNN invited me to speak about Arab women.” She paused, a look of embarrassment on her face. “Or don’t you guys have CNN here?”
Harper refused to be sidetracked, saying simply, “We have it.”
And when it became clear that was all that the queen had to say, Jennifer’s smile became brittle.
Harper waited patiently, knowing the other woman was the type to want to say the last word.
And she was right.
After a moment, Jennifer started to speak, and Harper immediately cut her off, saying, “I’m glad to hear you believe in the same things, Jennifer. I guess that means you may have only misunderstood Kyria’s stance earlier.”
Jennifer frowned. “I—-”
But Harper, still smiling, cut the other woman off again. “You, as someone who believes in the importance of not imposing our own beliefs on others, should understand more than most people that her choice to wear an abaya must be respected, whatever her reason is.”
Silence.
“Unless of course you believe that her choice of clothing is harmful to others?” Harper paused. “I grew up in America as well, but perhaps it’s changed in the short time I’ve been gone. Is it different now? Are women’s clothes considered a murderous weapon – or was that you just being catty?”
Jennifer’s face turned red with rage, and she snarled, “How nice. Just because you’re a queen, you think can say such things to anyone—-”
Harper let her eyes go wide, saying with all earnest innocence, “Oh, but you’re mistaken. It’s because I truly believe in equality that I’m saying this. I may be a queen, but I’m a woman first. I have every right to be a bitch when I see someone being unfairly attacked—-”
“It’s not my fault if she can’t defend her own position, is it?” Jennifer retorted. “And you coming to her rescue is exactly why people think women are weak—-”
“And it’s people like you that make everyone think feminists are all idiots and bitches combined,” Harper snapped.
The AFK’s faces turned stony, all three of them recognizing the signs of the queen’s anger. Once her temper was riled, there was no stopping it—-
And they were right.
“Feminism isn’t about men versus women,” Harper growled. “If you really understood feminism, then your first priority is to find a way for women to help each other up and not pull each other down. It’s certainly not for one woman to belittle another woman – and wasn’t that what you were doing to Kyria?”
Do you get that now, you ninny, Harper wanted to yell at Jennifer’s face, but caught herself in time and instead stopped to inhale deeply, realizing too late that she hadn’t even paused to breathe in her entire tirade. And she was shaking too, dammit. She only shook this much when she was really angry, and this Jennifer woman was definitely—-
A sound interrupted her thoughts.
Clapping?
A moment later, and the applause became thunderous.
Holy shit.
Harper gaped.
She had lost her temper, and they were clapping for it?
As Jennifer stormed out of the scene, Kyria rushed to the queen, eyes glowing with admiration. “You were so great, Your Majesty.”
Harper cringed. “I was such a hothead, you mean.”
“Because you were angry for me,” the younger girl said loyally.
“I was, but I should have remembered to be more...” Queenly? But that had occurred to her earlier already, hadn’t it? She had thought about the right thing to do, thought about why she would do it and whom she would do it for—-
Don’t do it for me.
And in the end—-
She had done it for Kyria. For people who needed protecting. For people like the kingdom of Ramil—-
Oh.
Her head immediately snapped, her gaze wildly searching the crowd—-
And finally, her eyes met the sheikh’s.
And he was smiling.
Do you understand it now, wife?
She wanted to laugh and cry, wanted to wrap her arms around him as much as she wanted to throttle him. Damn him. He could have simply told her straight that he wanted her to be a queen who would put the people’s needs before everything else, but no—-
Damn sheikh.
Even knowing she could hate him for it, had hated him a little for it, the sheikh had not taken the easy way out—-
Damn sheikh.
Because he had trusted her more than trusted herself, had trusted Harper to discover for herself the queen that she could and should be—-
Damn sheikh.
And so he had not spoken a word and let her hate him instead.
Damn sheikh.
But oh, how she loved this sheikh—-
How could she not, when now all his actions made sense—-
And they were the actions of a man who loved her more than he loved himself.
Emotions clogged her throat, and Harper quickly looked away before she started shouting the words.
I love you. I love you. I love you!
To hell with pride. To hell with their marriage of convenience. To hell with everything.
She was in love with him, he was in love with her, and for this she would take the risk of saying it first.
Her heart slammed against her chest and her body trembled, but Harper refused to let her nervousness change her mind. She was going to tell him she loved him. In fact, she would tell him as soon as she could be close enough to whisper the words to his ear.
And so she promised this to herself, not realizing that the next time they were together, the sheikh would end up breaking her heart.
Chapter Sixteen
Sunday morning showered the desert kingdom of Ramil with sunlight, and for the second day of the sheikh’s birthday celebration, a lavish breakfast spread had been prepared in the safari hall, a long, glass tunnel that also served as the palace’s direct connection to the sheikh’s private wildlife preserve. Here, guests were able to dine while enjoying the sight of the sheikh’s beloved pets. There were lions and jaguars and even a small herd of elephants that the guests glimpsed in the distance. At the end of the tunnel was another enclosure, this time an indoor jungle paradise in which exotic species lived – rare snakes wrapped around tree branches, huge camel spiders crawling swiftly on the sand, while Egyptian uromastyx flicked their tails languidly atop large boulders.
It made a breathtaking sight, one Harper usually enjoyed immensely. But right now, she just wanted to see the sheikh.
She had fallen asleep by the time he had returned to their room and was gone by the time she woke up. If not for the note he had left by her bedside table, she wouldn’t even have known he had been there at all.
And as for the note—-
Thank you for being the queen we need you to be.
&nbs
p; Your proud husband,
Khalil
Her cheeks flushed at the mere thought of it, and she hastily ducked her head before the guests could see her face. Damn sheikh. He wasn’t supposed to be that sweet. Or at least he shouldn’t be if he knew he’d be cooped up in his office for the rest of the day.
Her phone suddenly buzzed, and her heart swayed giddily, knowing that it could only be him.
Khalil: Miss me?
Harper: No comment. Everything okay there?
A secret memo had circulated among the palace’s staff this morning, and it was through it Harper had learned of the terrorist threat that had kept the sheikh away from her bed the previous night.
Khalil: Still waiting for verification.
Harper: Keep me posted?
Khalil: I will. Are you done there?
Harper: I need to stay here for about ten minutes more if I don’t want Ms. Snape to get mad.
Khalil: You know she’ll make you pay for that, don’t you?
Harper: She’ll only know if you tell her.
She paused then started typing again.
Harper: DON’T tell her, okay. Promise me!
Because he likely would, knowing how much the sheikh liked seeing her in hot water.
HELL OF A WAY TO CELEBRATE this his birthday, the sheikh thought wearily as he put aside the latest report sent by the defense department. As for now, last night’s rumblings about terrorists finding a way to enter their kingdom hadn’t yet been completely confirmed but even so, the palace remained on high security alert. He and the other sheikhs had also stayed up the entire night, monitoring all the reports, their instincts telling them not to take anything lightly.
Where there was smoke, there was fire.
And his birthday celebration, where the world’s most powerful figures had convened, would definitely make a great place to light up the bloodiest type of fireworks. And if today wasn’t the target, then there was also tomorrow’s council, where all 120 sheikhs of Ramil would be meeting, his first time to address them as their king.
His phone buzzed, and the tension in Khalil’s form slightly eased. If not for his beautiful Harper, his mood would have been a lot worse, and it was never a good thing for the kingdom to see their leader tense. It was just one of the many little things in which his queen was of help to him, and his mood further lightened when he read her reply.
DON’T tell her, okay. Promise me!
Ah, his queen knew him so well.
Khalil: I should be done here in about the same time. Come join me then.
He was about to put his phone away when it buzzed again.
Harper: As you command, Your Majesty.
The sarcasm was so palpable in each word that Khalil’s lips twitched.
Harper: And FYI, I see what you did there.
The sheikh was about to reply when a knock sounded on his door.
“Enter.”
An aide stepped inside. After bowing to his king, the younger man informed him nervously that the Sheikh of Farigha wished a word with him.
Khalil frowned. Mahmud was one of his grandfather’s old cronies, and he had only invited the older sheikh out of respect for his title. “Let him in,” he said after a moment. He couldn’t see Mahmud saying anything of import, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out first.
When Mahmud came strolling in, he rose to his feet, and the other sheikh bowed in greeting. Or at least he tried, with Mahmud’s huge middle preventing him from bending too much.
The aide prepared refreshments for two sheikhs before leaving, and as soon as they were alone, Khalil asked, “What may I do for you, Mahmud?”
“Actually, Your Majesty, it is more of what I would like to offer to you. A birthday gift, so to speak.”
“I see.”
“It would be our family’s greatest honor if you were to accept it.”
Refusing to be flattered into blind acceptance, Khalil only smiled blandly, drawling, “You have piqued my curiosity, sheikh. May I know what is this gift you speak of?”
“My daughter, sheikh.”
Ah.
“She has undergone training her whole life to ensure she does her husband proud. She is knowledgeable of our ways. She will be more than content to serve you as your second wife.”
Khalil’s fingers drummed on the armrest.
Mahmud smiled. “I see no reason why you should refuse our gift. It can only strengthen your hold on the kingdom and silence those who think you have too much foreign blood in you. I, of course, do not believe this, but as for other people in tomorrow’s council...”
“And if I believe this gift is too valuable?”
“I have always believed that no gift is too valuable for the kingdom’s sake. Or at least a true Ramilian would think so.”
OUTSIDE THE SHEIKH’S study, Harper’s fist paused mid-air at Sheikh Mahmud’s words. Was she hearing this right? Unable to help it, she turned towards her guards, and all three of them were doing their best to conceal their shock.
Harper swallowed hard. Well, it was just an offer, she told herself. It didn’t mean he’d accept. And besides, he had promised, hadn’t he? She squared her shoulders. Yes, he had promised, and for all of his irritating traits, the sheikh wasn’t ever the type to break his word.
She raised her hand to knock on the door, thinking of joining the sheikh and facing the man who had the temerity to offer her husband a second wife—-
But then she heard the sheikh speak.
“It would be my pleasure to receive your gift, Mahmud.”
And her arm fell limply against her side.
KHALIL DISMISSED EVERYONE when he reached the throne room, needing to be alone. Most of the men were quick to bow and leave, but his most trusted vassals refused to move an inch.
“Are you truly doing this?” Altair asked.
“You, of all people, should understand why the present situation leaves me no choice but to do it.” Only one-third of the council was needed for a motion to be considered, and according to Mahmud, there were at least fifty who wanted him to abdicate.
If Khalil chose to fight this motion, a hearing would be set, and he would be temporarily stripped of his powers. This would leave Ramil without a king, and it was too damn convenient that the timing coincided with a sudden terrorist threat.
“Have you heard anything about Mahmud conspiring with the terrorists?” Khalil asked his army commander.
“Unfortunately – no.” Altair’s tone was grim.
“Then my hands are tied.” Khalil’s was equally grim. Mahmud was one of the kingdom’s wealthiest sheikhs, and Khalil had no doubt the older man had enough clout to sway the other sheikhs into following him.
“And Harper?” Malik asked quietly.
Khalil turned to face the other sheikh, his smile not reaching his eyes as he murmured, “You’ve always had the softest spot for my queen, Malik.”
Malik didn’t smile back. “She is different from the rest. But I do not love her.”
Like you do.
The sheikh’s lips tightened at the unspoken words that hung heavily in the air.
“Enough with this.” Tarif’s tone was brusque. “What’s done is done, and the king has made a decision.”
The sheikh looked at Rayyan. “You have nothing to say?”
“You know the kind of man I am, Khalil.” The blue-eyed sheikh’s tone was emotionless. “I understand why you must do this, and as long as you let her know before she finds out from anyone else—-”
“You have nothing to worry about on that score.” Four pairs of stunned eyes swung towards him at his words, and Khalil smiled humorlessly at their reaction. “I have been informed that she was standing outside my doors when Mahmud spoke with me.”
Malik drew his breath sharply.
“She heard what Mahmud offered and she heard me accept.”
HARPER DIDN’T KNOW how long she had been seated in front of the vanity, brushing her hair, before the connecting door between her su
ite and the sheikh’s opened without warning. She stiffened, and when the sheikh strode inside a moment later, his dark gaze meeting hers through the mirror’s—-
A shaft of pain struck her at the sight of him, unexpected and crippling, and the hairbrush she had been holding slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers. It clattered to the marbled floor, the sound jarring, and Harper drew her breath sharply.
A second later, she bent to reach for it the same time the sheikh crouched down, and their fingers grazed against each other.
Harper jerked back.
Khalil’s fingers tightened around the handle. “Is something the matter?”
“Nope.” She swung away clumsily as he rose back to his feet.
As he placed the brush back on the vanity, he said quietly, “I can’t help you solve your problems when you don’t—-”
“I said there’s nothing wrong.” The words came out in a horrifyingly shrill scream, and she saw the sheikh freeze through his reflection on the mirror.
Harper started to shake on her seat, aghast and ashamed.
She had screamed at him. She had just gone ahead and screamed at him and – it didn’t feel right. Even if she had every reason to scream at him, it just didn’t feel right.
This wasn’t – this wasn’t her at all, dammit.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice came out a horrible stammer. “I didn’t mean to—-” Ah God, it was too hard to talk, and she stood up, almost causing her chair to overturn in her haste. But as she turned to walk away, the sheikh caught her by the elbow, and his touch nearly broke her, despair making Harper unable to move.
“Harper—-”
She shook her head, and the sheikh stopped speaking.
“Don’t.”
And his lips tightened.
She found the strength to yank her hand away, only to realize she didn’t have to try so hard, his fingers readily relinquishing its hold—-
Ah, God, he was letting her go so easily now.
And that said everything, didn’t it?
Khalil’s fists clenched against his sides as he saw Harper’s shoulders start to shake. When she raised her eyes to his, he sucked in his breath at the sight of her tear-stained gaze. He started to reach for her, unable to help it—-
