Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“It’s, umm—-”
His eyes gleam.
Oh, blast it. How does one address a sheikh?
“Malik will do,” the sheikh says, as if hearing my question.
“Err...” I may be an official guest of the palace, but it’s only because I’m friend of a friend of a friend of the Emir Sheikh. Other than that, I’m nobody. And he – Malik Al-Atassi – is somebody. Doesn’t he know that nobodies and somebodies can’t be on first name basis with each other?
Some of my horror must have been written on my face because the sheikh suddenly lifts one dark brow, asking, “My name appalls you that much?”
I turn red. “No, sir.” Wait, no, he’s a sheikh, not a bloody knight. “I mean, Your Holiness.” His lips twitch, and I turn even redder, realizing I’ve just addressed him like he’s the bloody pope.
I Am Such An Idiot.
“I’m sorry,” I say miserably. “I have no idea how to address a sheikh.”
“That’s become plain to see.” The sheikh’s tone is lazily amused, which I supposed I should be thankful for. It’s better than him finding me disrespectful and yelling ‘off with her head.’ I’m not sure if stuff like that still happens in the kingdom of Ramil, but you can’t be too safe, you know?
“Very well then.” The sheikh’s tone becomes brisk, like an army sergeant addressing his recruit, and I straighten involuntarily on the couch.
“As it appears a challenge for you to call me by my given name, you may simply address me as ‘sheikh.’ Would that do?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, yes, sheikh.”
And then I sit on my hands.
Seeing it, the sheikh once again lifts an inquiring brow, but I can only smile weakly in answer. No way am I going to admit the way he’s acting all commander-y is making me itch to give him a respectful salute.
Finally, the sheikh shakes his head, as if he’s decided to simply label me a weirdo. “The reason I’ve called you to my office is that your friend, Ms. Lace Wyndham, has submitted a scholarship application to one of our foundations on your behalf.”
“Excuse me?” I’m completely stunned. And then I remember my name on the folder and everything suddenly becomes clear. Oh, Lace. I know my friend means well, but she didn’t have to do this.
“You evidently do not approve of her actions.”
“It’s not that,” I stammer. “I just...I don’t want to cause her any more trouble than I’ve already done.”
“I do not believe Ms. Wyndham sees it that way – and our kingdom’s educational department doesn’t see it that way either.”
Oh. Okay. Wait. What?
“We’ve reviewed your portfolio, and after careful deliberation, my staff has deemed you worthy of receiving a full scholarship.”
They...did?
“You appear shocked.”
“That’s because I am,” I say weakly.
“You should have more faith in your own work, Ms. Chariot.”
I nod slowly, knowing that he’s right – but also knowing it’s not as easy as he makes it seem. “I really appreciate the opportunity your department is offering me, but I don’t want to accept it with any false promises on my part. I still love to draw, but I’m not sure...I’m not sure if I can draw the way I used to.”
Silence.
And then the sheikh says, “Your concerns are duly noted. That said, we are still pushing through with the scholarship—-”
I’m incredulous. “Even after what I told you?”
“That is what I just said, is it not?”
His tone is just the slightest bit impatient, and I wince. Ouch. It’s never nice for someone to make you feel like an idiot, especially when you know it’s deserved.
“My department will be in contact with you soon regarding the arrangements. We’ve already selected a school for you, and your scholarship will be all-inclusive. Funds will be provided to cover board and lodging, course materials, and naturally you’ll also be provided with a monthly living allowance.” The sheikh hands me the folder in his hand. “Everything is in there.”
My hands shake as I take the folder. “T-thank you.”
“Does this mean you’re accepting our offer then?”
“I’d be a fool if I didn’t,” I say uneasily. “Wouldn’t I?”
The sheikh’s broad shoulders move in a casual shrug. “I’ve always believed being a fool is a matter of choice. So...”
“I’m accepting the offer.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” I say, more firmly this time, just so he’d be convinced that I’m not a fool.
“Even if the school you’ll be transferring to is in Tokyo?”
“Even if the school—-” Wait. What? I clear my throat, asking faintly, “Did you just say Tokyo, sheikh?”
“Yes.” The sheikh’s tone is silky. “I did.”
And when his eyes gleam again, I just know – in fact I’m 100% sure – that this man knows just enough to understand what Tokyo means to me.
Lace Wyndham, you have such a bloody big mouth.
“Well then, Ms. Chariot? I’m interested to hear what you have to say. Will you be a fool or not?”