He corrected himself. "I will not force you to do anything you do not wish to. But Gwendolyn, you must appear with me on the balcony of the palace as soon as possible."
"Why should I?" she asked.
"The press somehow found out you are down here..." The sentence died on his lips. Something about the way the corner of her mouth tilted down spoke volumes. "You are the one. You leaked the information to the media."
"Ridiculous. I didn't leak any story. As if I would need to stoop to that." Gwendolyn lifted her chin into the air, in regal style. "I issued a press release."
"A press release," he repeated.
"Why would I want to go out on your balcony and contradict my own story?"
"Because I asked you to. This is quite embarrass—"
"You didn't ask me," she pointed out, interrupting. "You told me what I was going to do."
"Then I am asking you now. Please join me on the balcony, so our subjects can see us together. As I was saying, this is quite embarrassing for the palace. However, there is more. Citizens will worry about their government. The former country of Hidd is now a province of Zallaq. Only two years ago those citizens risked imprisonment simply for disagreeing with their ruler. If they believe I threw my own wife in the dungeon, they will fear me behaving the same way. So I ask you to join me on the balcony so they may see you are well. Please."
"Ouch. Sorry." Gwendolyn bit her lip. "I didn't mean that, Ithnan. I wasn't trying to freak anyone out but you. I didn't think about the people who suffered under Mahmoud."
"The crisis is not so great. After all, I am not about to begin a reign of terror. We need to present you to the people to assure them, that is all. I assume you agree to my request, then?"
She nodded. The cell door groaned long and low as she emerged from her self-imposed prison.
As soon as she was fully out, he pulled her to him and pressed her against his chest. How could she continue to deny what they had? If she would only accept his apology and his feelings, they could be together always. Why did she continue to be so stubborn?
"Gwendolyn," he said into her hair, "what will make you change your mind? I thought after last night..."
"Just good sex." Her words were muffled, half murmured into his chest.
"Not just good sex."
She stepped back, out of his embrace. Her small smile told him she was as satisfied with last night as he was. "Okay, mister, I admit it. Last night was great sex. But this isn't about whether we can have great sex. It's about whether we are the right people for each other."
"I love you, and I will do whatever you tell me to," he said, surprising himself.
"That's not the way this works, mister."
TWELVE
"So, are you still sleeping with him?" Over the rim of her glass of cold red tea, Max's eyes glittered.
Gwen cat-stretched on the couch the servants had set up in her charming dungeon. The place had been transformed by unseen hands, turned into a welcoming nook with everything she could think of wanting within her reach. She didn't even have any problem entertaining Princess Max here.
Was she still sleeping with him? Oh yes. Every night. The best sex of her life. Ithnan's determination to convince her they belonged together showed in his desperate style of lovemaking. He focused on her so completely...
Gwen shook the memories of last night's sex marathon out of her head, hopefully before the blush came to her face.
"Never mind," Max said, resting the glass on her pregnant belly. Her swollen feet rested on a two-hundred-year-old footstool embroidered with golden thread. "I can see for myself you are. And the sex is great."
Gwen sighed. "Sleeping with him is the last thing I should be doing."
She didn't tell Max that she left Ithnan's bed each night to sleep in her prison cell. Ithnan hated her not staying the night with him. Which was probably why she did it. To send the message he shouldn't take anything for granted.
Meanwhile, she watched for any signs he'd become more open. Signs she should trust him. She waited for him to prove himself.
She only wished she knew what she was waiting for.
"I'm sure you're doing the right thing," Max said, her tone anything but sure.
Over the past few days, she'd become a true friend. Too bad she had to go back to Ramadi tomorrow. Max's brash confidence bolstered Gwen's own strength. They could talk about anything, and Gwen really needed to talk.
"Yep, I am." She didn't allow any trace of her uncertainty to sneak into her words. "There's no doubt."
"How long does he have?" Max asked.
"Three days left." There, she'd said the deadline out loud. Not even a twinge in her stomach. Yes, she was all confidence.
"I'm not trying to get him to change just to be with me. In fact, that's the last thing I want."
"I know." They'd had the conversation before. But Max listened again. A good friend.
"I can't live with a paranoid freak who believes everyone is out to betray him. That can't be my life. It's Relationship 101. If a person changes just to be with someone, those changes won't stick. They'll go back to their old ways as soon as they're sure their partner isn't leaving. Besides, I can't change him. He has to change himself."
"I know," Max assured her. "I like to think I'd be strong enough to do what you're doing. But I'm not sure I would be."
Gwen's throat went tight, but she fought through the tension. "He's already tried telling me what I want to hear." No, not quite. She corrected herself. "What he thinks I want to hear."
"He told you he loves you?"
"My dad loves me, too, and I'm not putting up with his crap anymore either."
Her dad had taken her words to heart, especially the part about sharing his success with younger people who hadn't had the same opportunities as himself. Instead of taking out his issues on the rich, he'd thrown himself into creating an entrepreneurship program at an inner-city community center. He'd made a connection with a young man by the name of Joseph who worked two fast-food jobs to support his mother and younger sister.
Gwen had a feeling Joseph had a bright future ahead of him.
"I suppose you're taking your example from your mother," Max said. "Being independent, I mean."
"Actually, I think my dad has more to do with it. He tried to love my stepmother out of her behavior. She didn’t want to change, didn't take charge of her own actions. So she ended up destroying herself and wounding everyone around her. No matter how much my father—my dad—loved her, he couldn't change her."
She sighed. "This one is all on Ithnan now. And I will have work to do, too. I'll have to get comfortable with maneuvering through high society for the rest of my life. If he comes around."
"You'll do great," Max said. "I know you will. Plus, things are different when you're the biggest name in the room. People have to worry about offending you, not the other way around."
Gwen smiled and held her glass of tea toward Max. They clinked a toast.
Max was an inspiration. She'd overcome way more than Gwen had. They'd talked some about the responsibilities of being the first lady of a country. They would need to talk more when Ithnan figured his stuff out.
If he figured his stuff out.
They drank their tea in silence awhile. The room was cool in the day's heat, and they had nothing to do but lounge. But Gwen had just about had all the relaxation she could take. She longed to be useful again, to be moving, to help people, to accomplish tasks. She missed her job, her sense of purpose.
She would also miss Ithnan when she left. His confidence, his wry sense of humor. She would miss his intelligence and twisty way of thinking, his way of keeping everything under control, his calm. Just standing near him always made her feel like everything was going to be okay.
Considering his past, she couldn’t blame him for thinking they did, but his paranoia was going to twist him into something dark if he didn't turn his life around.
Max interrupted her solitary thoughts. "We're he
ading home to Ramadi tonight, Gwen. But I wanted to tell you I've made my decision. When you told me how much of a nightmare your abduction would have been without Ithnan being there, I knew you were right. My life is beautiful. More memories won't change how I feel. I love Sayd and I love our son. I don’t need anything else." She beamed down at her belly. "Except my little one, of course."
"I’m thrilled for you, Max." She tried her hardest to shoot her new friend the supportive smile Max deserved for her difficult choice.
But her expression must not have been what she intended. The corners of Max's mouth turned down. "Everything's going to work out for you too, Gwen. When Ithnan comes to his senses, I expect the two of you to visit us in Ramadi every time you can get away."
She didn’t trust herself to say anything, so she just nodded and drank her tea.
Max lived in a fairy tale. She had her handsome prince and a toddler who called her mom. All Gwen had was a soon-to-be-ex-husband who couldn't trust anyone, and an unstoppable deadline.
***
His wife was a continual frustration to him. If Gwendolyn would simply tell him what she wanted from him, he would fulfill her desire and they could put the situation behind them.
He sensed her pulling away, despite their intimacy each night. Today was the last of the ten days she had given him to do... whatever it was she wished him to do.
He would fail her test without ever knowing what that test was.
Perhaps his failure to solve her riddle explained why he was drinking gin and tonic at one o'clock in the afternoon. He wished more than anything to discuss the problem with the person he trusted the most. However, the person he trusted the most was Gwendolyn, and she was the heart of the problem.
He stared over his city, watching the movement far below him. Men in white robes and women in designer jeans. Donkeys and luxury SUVs. Things were quiet now, in the hottest part of the day. People, animals, and even machines rested, waiting for shadows to lengthen before emerging from mud houses and glass office buildings.
"My brother," he heard from behind him.
Thalatha, of course. Thale, as he liked to be called.
His youngest brother, looking disheveled, joined him at the marble balcony railing. Thale's tie was askew. He wore two days of stubble on his face.
"You are still here?" Ithnan asked him. "I thought you left for New York some time ago."
Thale did not keep a house or apartment of his own. He spread his time between Askar and Zallaq, taking advantage of the hospitality of his relatives. In years past, he had spent a great deal of time with Sheikh Lukman, their cousin who ruled Saddad, but had not done so for a while. When he was not freeloading from one of them, Thale was in the United States. There, he had picked up the slang speech patterns he used on occasion. Thale also employed the more formal speech their father had insisted on. Whichever suited him in the moment.
Thale didn’t bat an eye at the incivility. "More importantly, is she still here?"
An odd turn of conversation... "Why do you care?"
"Why do you?" Thale's smile stayed locked in place.
"Shall we just ask each other questions, then?"
"Would you like that?" Thale asked. "But seriously, why is she hanging around?"
"She loves me," Ithnan told him, trying not to betray the doubt that had crept into him in the last few days. "My wife will not leave."
"You sound certain."
"I am." He took a large gulp of his drink.
His brother leaned on the balcony railing. "Now you sound less certain."
"You, on the other hand, are welcome to leave at any time," Ithnan suggested.
Thale ignored him. "I sense tension between you. Did she find out you are a manipulative asshat? Nice—" Thale mimed quotation marks around the next word. "—kidnapping."
Perhaps the gin and tonic had affected him, but Ithnan had a sudden urge to slap his own forehead. Did everyone know his arrangements? "How do you know such a thing?"
Thale waved a hand, batting his concerns out of the air. "Do not worry, I have not told anyone. Your secret is safe with me."
Ithnan made a mental note to find out whom his brother's sources were, and to neutralize them with bribery. "And what do you want in exchange for your continued silence?"
Thale rolled his eyes. "Ah, brotherly love. Hard to believe how normal I turned out with the two of you so screwed up."
"You are a dissolute waste of breath who lives off the charity of others and has not spent a full day sober in years."
"Yes, yes." Thale brought his Samsung Galaxy from his pocket and began to thumb the device. "But I have fifty thousand Twitter followers."
Ithnan opened his mouth to respond, but Thale interrupted, turning his eyes to heaven in a parody of thoughtfulness. "Strange you have captured my character so completely and yet you cannot see Number One for what he is."
"He is our father all over again."
"Then tell me why did not he take your throne when he had the chance?"
Ithnan squeezed his lips together, unable to answer. He had failed to discover Walid's true purpose. Whatever game his older brother played, he could not see the end game.
"Gwendolyn asked me the same question, and I had no answer for her either," he admitted, unable to imagine what insight his useless brother could provide.
"Sure you can," Thale said, his cocksure tone infuriating. "The answer is in front of your imperial nose. Walid has something you and I do not. A sense of honor. You know I am right."
"I deny that utterly." The words flashed out of him. Walid? Acting on some honorable impulse? Impossible. As unthinkable as his father doing so.
Thale shrugged. "I have no clue how he managed, but Walid has a philosophy where he does what he says he is going to do. Bizarre, no?"
Gwendolyn had suggested something similar, but how could he believe such a thing? Walid had been raised by their father. Before being shipped off to Hidd as a sacrifice, Ithnan had seen the way their father had arranged everything in Walid's life, all for the purpose of raising Walid to be the man their father expected him to be.
He had never seen Walid complain or rebel at any of their father's treatment. Walid had absorbed his lessons as he was supposed to.
"I know what you're thinking, Number Two," Thale said. "Our father had his claws so deep in Number One that you cannot tell the difference between them. I do not know how he managed to avoid becoming a carbon copy of dear old Dad, but he did."
Ithnan's heart slowed. He felt as if everything he'd ever known twisted inside him, rearranging itself to some new configuration. He wished to view Walid the same way he always had, as an extension of his father. But that view had begun to fail.
"You can really count on a guy like that," Thale said.
"Trust him." The words sounded foreign to Ithnan.
"That, too."
Ithnan felt his eyes unfocus. He stared unblinking into the night sky, but he could not seem to stop himself. "He said he would not invade Zallaq."
"Then he won't." His brother spoke the words as if they were an unshakable truth.
"And he protected my kingdom while I was away because..." He allowed the words to trail off, giving Thale the opportunity to complete the thought for him.
"Because he thought protecting Zallaq was the right thing to do. Same reason for giving your throne back to you."
He wanted to reject the suggestion, to find the flaw in the logic. He searched his memory for some sign his brother had a hidden motive for what he had done. How could keeping the peace in Zallaq put Askar in a better position to invade?
He could not. There would be no better time for Askar to invade Zallaq than when its king was missing and its defenses were at the command of its bitterest enemy.
A logical man could only come to one conclusion. Walid had told the truth. He had always told the truth.
"Why would Askar build up its army? They have been making preparations for war since I inherited Zallaq."
Thale didn't have to complete his thought. Was it possible? Walid was arming himself to defend against a possible invasion by Zallaq, and for no other reason.
"Big brother." Thale's use of the term made him cringe. "Perhaps you don't trust Walid because you are—how shall I put this delicately? Ah yes. A paranoid jerk."
When Ithnan began to protest, Thale spoke over him. "I do not blame you. Hidd was pretty bad, was it not?"
Thale's expression held no pity. But his words... Ithnan barely comprehended the meaning behind them. He had never told anyone of his time in Hidd, until Gwendolyn. Yet all along, someone had known, had understood. "You knew?"
"I could do nothing. But I did join the rescue mission." Thale said the words with nonchalance.
What rescue mission? he was meant to ask. As much as being baited by his brother irritated, he could not help himself. "Explain."
Thale leaned against the balcony railing, a storyteller settling in to a long tale. "Walid was thirteen—I, seven. So you must have been, what, eleven?"
Ithnan nodded. At the time he had been in Hidd for three years.
"When you first went to be fostered in Hidd, our father told Walid you would return in six months."
"He told me the same," Ithnan confirmed.
"After the first half-year, he told Walid he needed you to stay for another six months. After those months, the story changed. You liked Hidd so much you wished to stay. He said he allowed you to remain for several more months. When those months passed, whenever Walid asked about you, our blessed father told him you had forgotten about us."
Never. In his childish mind, Askar had become a paradise. He had dreamed of his home every day. And, he admitted, he had thought most about Walid, the brother who had been his greatest childhood friend.
"Did you ever receive any of the letters Walid wrote you?" Thale asked. "Of course not. But letters arrived from you."
Ithnan's heart burned. The letters he had written had been full of requests to return home. In the beginning, he had prayed they had gotten lost in the post, explaining the lack of response. Later, he believed the servants he bribed to mail the letters had simply kept his money and not bothered to mail them.
Handcuffed to the Sheikh, Too Page 18
