Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
The tiniest noise coming from the secret wall panel at the back drew his attention, and he stiffened, knowing exactly what it meant.
Noticing the sheikh’s whitened expression, Cecile felt her cheeks color with mortification even as she forced herself to ask, “Is it t-too late?”
When he only stared at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw, she impulsively pressed a hand over his chest and felt almost weak with relief when she felt the way his heart thundered.
“You still love me,” she whispered tremulously. “D-Don’t you?”
“Nem.” Yes.
Even knowing that such an admission would mean heaven for one girl and hell for another –
“I still do.”
The truth was ripped out of Rayyan; there was nothing else for him to do with the girl he had loved for fourteen years looking at him like she was about to break any moment.
“Oh thank God.” She collapsed against him once more.
It took almost thirty minutes before he was able to calm Cecile down and another half hour to escort her back to her home, having persuaded her to give it time before making any rash decisions.
Once you’re no longer in shock, he promised quietly, we’ll talk.
Cecile looked at him one last time, and the truth was in her eyes. It was what he had long suspected, with neither the passage of time nor condemning traditions able to shatter the ties that bound their fates together.
He should be over the fucking moon about it, but the moment she disappeared from view, all his thoughts were for someone else, and it was all Rayyan could do not to tear down walls in his haste to get to her.
Please.
Let her still be there.
Please.
Even when he didn’t deserve her, even when he still had no fucking idea what to say –
Please.
Hyacinth heard the door slide open, but she couldn’t even find the energy to look up, couldn’t even make herself save some face and wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Hyacinth.”
She wanted to stop crying, wanted to show some damn pride, but she just couldn’t.
“I’m sorry.”
It just hurt. It hurt so goddamn much.
“Please, majamira.”
How absurdly apt that name seemed now, and to think she once thought it made her different from the rest. A near-crazed laugh almost spilled out of her. Well, now she knew better.
Words didn’t make people yours.
“Say something.”
Words couldn’t always fix things.
“Please.”
No matter how much both of them wanted it otherwise, sometimes...words were just words.
Thirteen
“Sametanira?” Did you hear me?
Rayyan cursed under his breath when he realized he had let his thoughts drift away from the meeting, and even worse was the fact that the Emir Sheikh had caught him doing it.
“Maehdina.” I’m sorry.
A frown marred Khalil’s forehead as he studied the other man. It was unlike Rayyan at all to be distracted, and yet in the past few months, that was exactly the way the kingdom’s finance chief had been acting.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked finally.
“La.” No.
Khalil had expected as much, and when he joined his wife in bed that night, he was disconcerted to hear Harper voicing the same concerns he had. “Don’t you think something’s going on with Rayyan?”
Rolling his wife to her back, Khalil gazed down at his queen with a scowl of mock distrust. “Should I be concerned that you are thinking of another man while you’re in bed with me?”
Harper rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.” She gave him a little push, and the king obliged her silent command, allowing her to reverse their positions and letting her roll on top of him. “He normally bites my head off for the smallest of things, but these days...”
Smoothing the lines on her forehead, he said quietly, “It’s how he is.” He paused. “Or rather – and you will never hear any of us saying this in Rayyan’s presence – it is what his parents forced him to be.”
Harper sat up in surprise. “Princess Rowena or Prince Anthony?”
“Both.” Pushing himself up, the king leaned against the headboard and pulled his wife to his side. “They’re good parents...”
“But they make better politicians?” She barely knew the couple, but what she had read about them was enough to tell her they would never win any parenting awards.
“There’s no question about how much they love Rayyan, but work always come first with them.” Khalil’s tone was flat. “What’s worse is how they’ve done their best to shape Rayyan’s mind similarly. Even when we were young, Rayyan had never been the type to get into trouble. He was the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect prince – he knew that if he made the smallest mistake, people would blame it on his parents’ absence, which would then prevent them from doing their duty.”
“And God forbid that happens, right?” Harper asked sarcastically.
“Rayyan would have considered it a personal failure if his parents were made to appear neglectful.”