Pursued by the Desert Prince(28)

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.