Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
But there was nothing to do, his hands tied by the gold bands of his crown.
He started to tell her why he was doing it, but she shook her head.
“You don’t have to explain.”
And he saw in her eyes that he truly did not have to.
He saw in her eyes that she knew –
She knew he loved her. But she also knew he was a king.
“I’m sorry.” Khalil’s voice was hoarse.
A choking sob, the sound telling him that she knew he was sorry...understood why he was doing this...but that it wasn’t enough.
And he could no longer help himself.
Even knowing he had no right to touch her—-
He just had to.
The moment his hands cupped her face, her tears streamed faster.
His lips moved, and so did hers.
The words flowed, silent but heard.
I love you.
I love you.
But it wasn’t enough.
“K-Khalil—-”
He crushed her to him. “Please.” His voice was savage. “Don’t say it. Please. We’ll find a way to make it work—-”
“Not t-this time.” A painful laugh bubbled inside of her, and she...let it out. She had to. If she didn’t laugh, she’d end up crying, and God, the pain was already too much.
The thought of having to share him with another woman –
Even if it was for the right reasons –
She couldn’t do it.
She just couldn’t do it.
It would be no different from being skinned alive, the pain peeling her soul bit by ravaged bit until she would no longer be able to recognize herself.
Harper pulled away, managed to get to her feet, but just as she turned away, the sheikh gripped her hand, not letting her go.
“Please.”
“I love you.”
Harper squeezed her eyes shut. “I know y-you do. And I can’t even blame you for doing this. You wouldn’t be the man I loved if you hadn’t done this, but please—-” Another shuddering sob struck her, and she nearly had to gasp for breath. “I’d do anything for you, but not this. Never this. So please don’t ask it of me. Please—-”
Slowly, his fingers fell.
And she ran away.
YEARS AND YEARS FROM now, it would go down as one of the saddest days in the kingdom’s history when the crying, trembling figure of their queen was seen at the gates of the palace, performing the public ritual of ending her marriage to the king.
News traveled fast, and the area was soon swarming with people – reporters who were out to sensationalize this unprecedented sight, gawking guests who were titillated by the hint of scandal in the air, and men like Mahmud, who didn’t hesitate to sow seeds of discord to further their cause.
Terrible accusations began to take shape, broadcasted in viral headlines—-
Queen Harper publicly disavowing marriage to travel alone and leave Ramil?
Princess Safiya, daughter of Sheikh Mahmud, to be Ramil’s next queen?
Ramilians to be fined if found offering aid to Queen Harper?
Later, there would also be stories of loyalty – of how secret enemies of the sheikh had incited a rabble, and of the queen’s most trusted guards coming to her defense. Witnesses had sworn they heard the queen tearfully begging her loyal guards not to endanger themselves for her, but still they had shed blood for her, their loyalty to her unwavering.
You will always be our queen.
And when the tide seemed to swell in the favor of the sheikh’s enemies, there came the thundering, ground-crushing sound of the army’s footsteps, led by the king and his vassals. They fought their way to the queen’s side, infallible in their power, strength, and valor –
It was a breathtaking sight, witnesses from that night were known to avow. But what they would never ever forget was the sight of their king finding his queen—-
Only to let her go—-
You are free, my love.
Chapter Seventeen
Athrong of well-dressed guests once again thronged the reception hall, which, like the rest of the place, was decked in festive colors in honor of the Emir Sheikh’s impending marriage to Princess Safiya. It was reminiscent of another wedding not so long ago, but unlike before – the mood that blanketed the palace was bleak and gray. It had been so for two months now, ever since a woman who had been the kingdom’s queen for so short a time had chosen to break her heart rather than risk the lives of her people.
Altair checked his watch after seeing the last of the wedding’s guests herded to the mosque. It was time. He nodded at his second-in-command, and in the span of three seconds the palace was officially in lockdown, all the way to the outermost gates. Although the palace had remained impregnable the day of the attack, the kingdom’s Commander of Armed Forces still held himself responsible for all those injured during the rabble, and he was determined not to let the same mistake happen again.
Upon receiving their signals from Altair, Malik and Rayyan departed from their posts, the former to fetch the bride from her chamber, the latter to inform the Emir Sheikh that he could now take his place at the mosque.