by Holly Rayner
“I believe a negotiation involves two sides, and I have yet to hear how a union with you would benefit me in any way, Mr. Black.”
Jenson leaned back in his chair, the paragon of confidence.
“But didn’t I just lay all that out for you? In exchange for marriage to me, you get to be the savior of your people. Don’t think I haven’t done my research on the financial situation of your country, Your Highness. Your father left it in a pretty dire situation, and you’re in a position to save everyone. All it takes is a little commitment to me. What could be so bad about that? It’s a no-brainer.”
Unable to sit any longer, Jasmina bolted upright, her anger so intense she could swear she was seeing red.
“I reject your terms, Mr. Black, and I highly recommend you take a good hard look at yourself if you think for one minute that I would give you my hand in marriage—something we here in El Jayiah take very seriously—in order to close a business deal. If you think that you can buy me along with my country, then you are sorely mistaken. Do kindly vacate the premises before I have my security guards drag you out.”
Unable to stand another second in his presence, Jasmina stormed from the gardens, not stopping until she was back in her bedroom and far away from the venerable Jenson Black. Her heart was pounding. She pressed her palm against it, doing her best to calm herself down.
The nerve of that man! And that was to be her first diplomatic meeting? Would they all be that way? Would her status as a woman make her simply a conquest to be won by every man trying to make a deal? Her heart sank at the thought, and a wave of sadness washed over her as she longed even harder for her father to simply come back to life and better prepare her for the responsibilities that came with being Sheikha.
The weight of her title was suffocating, and Jasmina found herself tearing at her dress until she finally managed to shed the offensive garment, heading to her closet and tossing it open.
She needed to get out. She needed to escape the gilded cage she had found herself in. Finding a light pink skirt—the first article of clothing she would wear that wasn’t black since her father’s death—and a white blouse, Jasmina donned a white headscarf and a comfortable pair of shoes before heading out to her veranda.
Years before, as a little girl, she had mastered the climb down from her second-floor bedroom, managing to dig her little shoes into the crannies time had left behind. Muscle memory served her well as she made her way down the palace wall, reaching the ground with a gentle leap. Glancing around her, she found herself alone as she made her way to a back exit—a secret door only the royal family knew about.
She pressed her finger against an imperceptible circle in the wall, and a small door sprang open. Quickly she slid through it and closed it again, entering a small alley before walking out into the open streets of Tyra.
All around her people were going about their days as though the country were not on the edge of destruction. One thing her father’s government had managed to do was keep their situation out of view from the general public so as not to incite panic, and Jasmina was grateful for that as she strolled down the busy streets. She bought a cold tea from a local vendor, who looked at her as though he knew he’d seen her face somewhere, but couldn’t quite put a finger on it.
Jasmina thanked him for the tea before heading toward one of Tyra’s largest parks. A series of cricket fields, large fountains and playgrounds surrounded her, and she found a bench she could sit on to enjoy her tea while she watched the people of her country go about their lives.
A mother and father were walking with a small child between them. The child held each of their hands, swinging back and forth every couple of steps. Her parents beamed down at her, then at each other as they continued their walk around the park. Behind them a cricket game was in progress, the sound of a bat slapping against a ball before cheers erupted over and over again.
Jasmina absorbed the sounds of her old life, the people whose lives she was responsible for. She watched as men cheered on their teammates and women cuddled their children beneath little tents. She breathed in the scent of cinnamon bread from the local food stands, and felt a wave of sadness wash over her.
If she didn’t get a deal for the lithium, all of this would be lost. People would lose their homes, children would go hungry. The joy she felt around her would melt away into despair, which would lead to violence and uprisings. She couldn’t afford to let that happen. She had to do whatever it took to protect them. Without Jenson’s offer, her country would slide headfirst into a depression.
She thought about Jenson, then. She’d been trying not to—the man was everything in the world that she hated most. He was arrogant and entitled, a sexist pig who thought he could manipulate her to get what he wanted. He was already at the pinnacle of his field, wealthy in every possible way, and still he wanted more.
He wanted her soul.
A little boy waddled up to her, his smile missing a few teeth as he rested a tiny hand on her knee. Jasmina smiled down at him, placing a hand on his tiny fingers.
“Hello there,” she said, and the toddler babbled something incomprehensible.
“Hani! What did mommy say?”
A woman dashed up to them, scooping up her son with an apologetic look in her eye.
“I’m terribly sorry. He’s just started wandering off and we’re having trouble keeping him in one place.”
Jasmina waved away the apology.
“Think nothing of it. We had a lovely conversation just now.”
The woman nodded gratefully at Jasmina’s understanding before carting her little boy off. The boy waved to Jasmina as they departed, and she waved back at him, the warmth in her heart fading as her thoughts turned back to her terrible predicament.
She could find another buyer. There were plenty of technology companies out there who would love to get their hands on her lithium supply. Even as she thought of the solution, however, she knew it wouldn’t work. It had already taken her council months to find Jenson and his deal. No one else was willing to employ only her people as a workforce, and no one else had offered the sum of money that Jenson had put on the table. Beyond that, they were already out of time. They needed that money fast, and Jasmina couldn’t waste any more time trying to negotiate another deal.
Staring out at the park, Jasmina thought again about the last conversation she had had with her father. He had told her that he never remarried out of a sense duty to El Jayiah. He had wanted her to be the undisputed monarch once he was gone. In that moment, Jasmina realized that she would be forced to make a similar sacrifice. She would have no choice but to wed that odious man for the good of her country and her people. She would have to make her first sacrifice, not even a week into her reign.
What would the rest of her rule look like?
Resigned to living a lonely life, Jasmina stood, making her way back to the palace. She couldn’t run from who she was anymore. She’d had four glorious years of just being Jasmina, a college student majoring in political science. Those years were now gone, the real world had arrived, and Jasmina would do what she had to for the good of her nation. She wondered idly if this would have been her fate whether her father died or not. Would she have made the same sacrifice, if her father had asked it of her?
She supposed she would never know.
Reaching the secret doorway, Jasmina glanced around her before pressing the secret button and opening the portal, sliding back through. She reached the wall beneath her window and climbed until she reached the balcony, easily lifting her leg over and climbing back inside. Asha was standing at the door with her arms crossed, waiting.
“I know, I know. I just needed to get some air,” Jasmina said, not making eye contact.
“You know if something happens to you, the royal line is finished. Our country is in enough peril as it is, Jasmina. Do try to keep yourself out of danger.”
With that, she turned and headed toward the exit.
“Asha, wait.”
Asha turned.
“Could you please get me Jenson Black’s phone number? I have a call I need to make.”
Asha lifted a curious eyebrow.
“Of course. Based on what’s going on here I can’t assume that meeting went terribly well.”
“It did not,” Jasmina said. She hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to tell Asha Jenson’s terms. “He won’t give us the deal unless I agree to marry him.”
Asha’s expression remained neutral at that piece of information, and Jasmina waited for her to react. Finally, she sighed heavily.
“The price of being a royal is higher than people understand. I imagine you’ll be giving him your answer then?”
Jasmina nodded, and Asha left before quickly returning with a piece of paper, holding it out to her. When Jasmina looked at it, she found Jenson’s information typed out, nice and neat.
She felt like throwing up.
Asha’s hand landed on her shoulder, a small comfort for the conversation that lay ahead.
“Everything has a way of working out, my love. You’ll see.”
With that, she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Jasmina stared at it, feeling suffocated. She was trapped, and she knew it. There would be no escaping the decision she was about to make. She had the welfare of her people to think about, above her own happiness, and certainly over her pride.
Lifting a phone, she began to dial.
Chapter Five
“Jenson Black.”
His voice was deep and professional. She’d half hoped that he wouldn’t answer, but since he had, she had no choice but to press on.
“Mr. Black,” she began, but he cut her off before she could finish.
“Your Highness. Calling to berate me again for investing in my future?”
His tone had her teeth on edge already. Could Jasmina really last an entire lifetime with such an insufferable person by her side? Swallowing her distaste, she charged ahead.
“I’m calling because I’ve considered your proposal and have decided to accept it,” she said, her tone professional, as though she were simply making a supply order, and nothing more.
She felt a small sense of satisfaction at Jenson’s own stunned silence. After a beat, he was right back in the game.
“Well that’s quite the change of heart. And here I have my flight back to the States already booked for tomorrow. You’re telling me I need to cancel it?”
“I’m telling you that I am willing to enter into a marriage with you in exchange for the agreed-upon sum for the lithium and the guarantee that you will maintain a local workforce. Do we have a deal, Mr. Black?”
“Only if you call me Jenson.”
He was teasing her. He was teasing her as she gave up a chance at love, at happiness for her country. A black, oily hole opened up in Jasmina’s chest, and her eyes narrowed.
“We will have to make certain appearances, which we will discuss. In public, I will call you by your given name. In private, I have no need to do so. Please, rejoin me at the palace tomorrow so we can finalize this deal. I’d like to have your team moving out as soon as possible.”
“You’re seriously going to go through with this?” he asked.
She couldn’t read him. She hated that she couldn’t read him. What was he asking that for, after she’d already made her declaration?
“When I give my word I keep it, Mr. Black. I sincerely hope I can expect the same courtesy from you.”
“Well as delightful as this engagement is, I think we can end the conversation with that. I’ll be by tomorrow to discuss whatever details you want to hash out, and I will make the call to have my men start the process of moving in and hiring here. Is that amenable to you?”
“Do you honestly care?” she asked.
There was a hesitation that had Jasmina curious. Was there perhaps a human being beneath that cocky exterior? Dare she hope that to be the case?
“Well you will be my wife in a few months. I believe your happiness is somewhat my responsibility.”
“Your consideration knows no bounds, Mr. Black. Until tomorrow.”
She hung up the phone, then, not giving him a chance to have his own say. Her spirit and her body felt numb, as though she would never know true happiness again. She would have to rely on memories for that, she supposed, resigning herself to her fate. When she looked out the window she realized that the sun had already set, though she had no appetite for food.
Changing into a pair of pajamas, she settled into her spacious, comfortable bed and turned off the light. Staring up into the inky blackness of her room, she thought about becoming the wife of a selfish, greedy man. Would he expect her to share a bed with him? If he did, he had another thing coming!
Time passed as Jasmina did her best to fall asleep. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, she finally did, and was blessedly bereft of dreams.
A firm knock on her door startled her from her dreamless slumber, and Asha walked in, ready to prepare her mistress for the day.
“Rise and shine, another day is here,” she said, as she always had, every morning since Jasmina was born.
“So it is,” Jasmina grumbled into her pillow, turning to face the other way.
Asha threw the comforter off of her, tossing it aside.
“You are meeting with the delegation from the north in thirty minutes to discuss issues pertaining to the drought. There is no time to be a lazy bum, Your Highness.”
Jasmina groaned, knowing that she would be exhausted for the rest of the day. She slumped like a zombie as Asha forced her to shower before taking care of her hair and dress while Jasmina obediently moved wherever she needed her. When she was done, she pulled Jasmina up.
“Whatever happened during that phone call, you cannot let it show in front of your people. Find your inner strength, and carry on. Your father would expect it of you.”
Those were the magic words, as always.
Jasmina met Asha’s stare and nodded, standing a little taller. Asha led the way out of the room, showing Jasmina to a small antechamber, where a small group of men in farmer’s clothes were waiting for her. As they shifted from foot to foot, their hats wringing in their hands, Jasmina instantly realized that she had her Sheikha hat on, and it was time to get to work.
“Gentlemen, please sit down.”
They jumped as she entered, and she wondered why they were so fearful. One of them stayed at the front, evidently the leader.
“Your Highness, thank you for taking the time to meet with us today. May we personally send our condolences about your beloved father—may he rest peacefully forever in the garden of the gods.”
She nodded her head at his good wishes, gesturing again for the men to sit. Once she proceeded to do so, they followed suit.
“What can I help you with this morning, gentlemen?”
The leader cleared his throat, his eyes darting from her back to the ground and up again.
“It’s the drought, Your Highness. While the rainy season is set to be good next year, we need extra funding to feed the people up north for the next several months at least. The food supply is getting more restricted by the day.”
Jasmina nodded as she listened to his plea.
“Have you reached out to vendors to the south?”
“Well…no, Your Highness. We didn’t think they’d be willing to make the move.”
“I’ll be meeting with a group of key business owners later this afternoon. Let me speak with them, and we’ll see if we can’t make a communal connection that can be of benefit to us all. If that doesn’t work, rest assured that the palace will not see our people go hungry. Does that sound good to you?”
Heads were nodding enthusiastically.
“Thank you, You Highness. You are a true treasure.”
“I am no one’s treasure, but I accept your compliment,” she said with a small smile.
The man’s grin faltered as he wondered at his misstep. She reached out a hand fo
r him to take, which he did, gratefully.
“Do not trouble yourself. I am happy to meet you all and make this connection. I look forward to working together for the greater good in the future.”
A chorus of thank-yous rang around the room as Jasmina made her exit, heading toward her main office to see what she would be up to next. As she walked through the open atrium, the door opened, and Jenson walked through.
Today he was wearing a gray suit that was no less tailored to his body than the black one had been. Jasmina was annoyed that she even noticed that, wishing that she could look anywhere but his startling green eyes. She had never in her life seen eyes like his before, and she hated the way her body reacted to him.
“Jasmina!” he said, approaching her and pressing an affectionate kiss along her cheek.
“For appearances,” he whispered against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.
Jasmina took a deep step away from him.
“We haven’t officially agreed on anything yet. There’s no need for this pony show.”
Jenson shrugged.
“Can’t hurt to practice,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
“You are atrocious,” she growled, and he laughed.
“So I’ve been told. When shall we meet about our negotiation then? I have some paperwork that will require your John Hancock.”
“My what?”
“Your signature.”
“Oh.”
An awkward pause hung between them then, and as time passed Jasmina realized she had more important things to worry about than her false marriage to this cad. She had to focus on the bigger picture, and simply get this part over with.
“To my office, then, so we can be done with this. I assume you’ve got your transition team on route already?”
“Not until I get that signature, my beautiful fiancée.”
Jasmina cringed at the word. She was silent the rest of the way to her office, opening the door and walking through until she sat behind her father’s massive desk. Someday, she would come to think of the office as her own, but it simply didn’t feel right so soon after his death.
