It was another tear in the fabric of Kasim's family and Angelique silently ached for all of them.
"I don't think I've ever been prouder," Trella said, linking her hand with Angelique's. "Oh, look at you, crying over how beautiful she is! Our tender little Gili. We used to call her Puddles. She hated it."
Her sister was being Trella, giving Angelique an excuse for the tears that were filling her eyes because yes, she was proud of their work, but she was bombarded by so much emotion in this moment. She hurt for Hasna and Fatina, Kasim and Jamal. At the same time, she saw the dress as a symbol of what had brought Kasim into her life. It was exactly what she would never wear when walking toward him. In fact, today especially, she couldn't go near him. In future, it would be far too painful to approach him, not that she expected to bump into him anywhere.
The wedding reception was the last time she would ever see him and she wanted to weep openly with her loss, until she collapsed in a heap.
Trella squeezed her hand in comfort, as though she felt the echo of agony that clenched Angelique's heart.
Hasna's bouquet dropped an inch and her come-and-go smile faded into misery.
"You have both worked so hard to make this day absolutely perfect and-" Her gaze briefly met Angelique's, but she quickly shielded her thoughts with a sweep of her lashes. "I can't believe I have to ask you for another favor. Sadiq will kill me if he knows, but my mother wants a picture of the three of us. She said it's about the dress, but I know it's because she's excited to have the first photos of you both together in public."
Hasna looked embarrassed and angry, but resigned.
Angelique glanced at Trella, worried the photo request was too high a price. If Trella wanted to refuse, she would back her up, even if it meant they were both expelled from the wedding, the palace and Zhamair.
Even though it would mean not catching a last glimpse of the man she loved.
Trella smiled even as her fingers tightened on Angelique's.
"Of course," Trella said. "I knew photos would wind up in the press and I'm only sorry it might overshadow your special day. But if you're not bothered by that, then I'm not. You, Gili?"
Angelique shook her head and tried to bolster Hasna by saying, "Anything for you, because you make Sadiq so very happy. You know how much we want that for him."
Hasna's smile returned, shakily, then beaming with anticipation. She blinked. "Yes. He's lucky to have such good friends. Me, too." She touched her pendant and nodded. "I'm ready."
When it came to levels of power, there were elected officials, religious leaders, authoritarian dictators and right at the very top of that heap: Mother of the Bride. When she also happened to be a queen, she accomplished great feats with a single sentence.
"You cannot expect Hasna to give up the prestige of hosting such rare guests for a woman who may or may not join this family." Her tone implied that she would veto Kasim's prospective bride completely if she impacted the illustriousness of Hasna's day.
His mother didn't know the reason Hasna had become so insistent on having all of The Sauveterre Twins at her wedding. Kasim had gone to see his sister last night, when he'd returned from the desert. She had known the moment she saw the pendant that Jamal was alive. "You would have shown this to me before, with all the rest."
As the truth had come out, she had railed at him, and cried bitterly, but she understood that it had been Jamal's choice, and the people truly at fault were their parents. He hoped she had managed a few hours of sleep after that. He hadn't, too aware that Angelique was close, but essentially gone from his life.
Then, just before the ceremony, he had held out his arm to escort Fatina to her place behind the king and queen. She had been trembling, her face a stiff mask, as she'd said, "I saw what you gave to the princess."
Her eyes had held a maelstrom of emotion, topmost resentment and betrayal, but underscored by a glittering return of hope.
He would owe her some explanations, too, he supposed. At least he was able to brood unnoticed as the attention through the reception was drawn in a completely different direction.
Watching the wedding guests behave like the twins were creatures in a zoo made Kasim sick. They had all been briefly introduced at the receiving line, Angelique removing her hand from his like the contact had burned. Her eyes had remained downcast and his heart had been a tortured knot from the moment he saw her coming to the moment she'd disappeared into the crowd.
Her brothers now bookended their sisters, Henri on Trella's right, Ramon on Angelique's left, all posed in a row like movie stars to allow photographs, the men wearing dark green, the women a lighter shade, so all their eyes flashed like emeralds. Their smiles were aloof and unbothered.
They were a sight, so very good-looking, tall and flawless and so startlingly the same. An old woman touched Ramon like she wasn't sure he was real. He said something that made her cover a titter and blush. Angelique sent her brother a reproving look and pinched his arm.
Kasim's lungs felt tight as he memorized the vision of her. His heart had echoed her voice through him with every pound since she'd said, I love you.
Respect someone weaker. Did she not know how weak she made him?
He fantasized about having a second wife. The wife he really wanted. He loved her, too.
And claiming her would make him just like his father.
He ran a hand down his face, ensuring none of this struggle was evident as he gritted his teeth and tried to get through the hours of this everlasting wedding.
A servant touched his arm. "You must come," he said. "The king."
What now? Kasim stalked after the man, taking a relieved breath as they went through a door and the worst of the noise was closed out behind them. "Where is he?"
"The doctor is with him in the Consort's Chamber."
"Doctor?" Kasim's heart lurched. He strode past the man up the stairs to more quickly reach Fatina's suite.
Her rooms were at the far end of the wing from the royal apartments, but it didn't surprise him that his father was there. It did shock him to find his mother coming toward the same door from the other direction, expression tense. Fatina's maid was trailing behind her, obviously having fetched her with the same urgency.
This was serious.
Kasim's mind raced. Should Hasna be called away from her guests? Was it that bad? He pushed into the lounge and found his father being loaded onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask over his gray face. He wasn't conscious.
"What happened? What have you done?" The queen was quick to accuse Fatina.
Not her. Me, Kasim thought.
Fatina was crying, tail end of her scarf bunched up to her mouth, shoulders shaking with sorrow.
"Why was he even here when he should be downstairs with his guests? You-"
"Mother," Kasim said through his teeth. He looked to the doctor.
The royal physician wore a very grave look. "We will do what we can. Perhaps the queen should accompany us in the helicopter."
For potentially his father's last moments. Kasim's insides clenched.
As they all looked to Kasim for direction, he thought about the guests downstairs. The woman he'd used to needle his father-not to score points, but because he loved her.
The end result was the same, however. He had given his father a heart attack.
Kasim felt not just the weight of decisions that would have to be made in the next five minutes, but the weight of a nation landsliding to rest with infinite weight upon his shoulders. Even if his father recovered, Kasim was the man in power until he did.
And he didn't deserve it.
He had thought his father's censure had hung heavily around his neck. His own self-contempt was worse.
"Mother," he prompted. The word stuck in his throat. "I will follow with Hasna as soon as we can." And Fatina. He wished he could give her the honor of flying with the man she loved. She was rocking in her chair, face buried in her scarf as she tried to stifle her sobs.
Turning to a servant, he ordered them to have Hasna and Sadiq wait for him in one of the anterooms downstairs. He would tell them first, then make the announcement.
And he would say an unspoken, but final goodbye to Angelique.
I don't want to be the reason you two went to war the day before your sister's wedding.
Nevertheless, she was. She would never see this differently and neither would he.
Do you need me? I will stay if you want me to.
Angelique had rather foolishly sent the text as the wedding fell apart and Kasim disappeared, presumably to have a police escort to the hospital where his father was struggling to hang on to his life.
He didn't respond. Not that day, not before she left Zhamair, not as his nation went into mourning at the news of their king's demise, and not after his father was laid to rest and Kasim was crowned king.
She followed all of it, doing exactly what she had told him once she would never do. She stalked him online and even read what was said about the two of them, reliving their various moments together, not caring about the inaccuracies and wild theories and outright lies.