The Last Prince of Dahaar(12)

                “Knowing all this, you refuse this alliance? You risk your country’s future, your brother’s future by acting so recklessly?”

                Zohra crumpled against the wall, the fight leaving her. She owed nothing to her father, nor to Siyaad. But Saira and Wasim...if not for them, she would have been so alone all these years. A stranger among her father’s people at thirteen—shattered by her mother’s death and the devastating truth that her father was not only alive, but that he was the sovereign of Siyaad and had a wife and six-year-old son and daughter.

                If not for her brother and sister, she would have had nothing but misery. “I had no idea this would benefit Wasim.”

                “Why am I not surprised?”

                His derision felt like a stinging slap. But this was all her fault.

                She had always made it her mission to learn as little as possible about the politics in Siyaad, she had rebuffed her father’s attempts to educate her, to make her active in the country’s politics. If she hadn’t sunk her head in the sand like an ostrich, she would have been better equipped to deal with this situation.

                She ran a trembling hand over her forehead, shaking from head to toe. She was well and truly caught, all her hopes for a future separate from duty and obligation crumbling right before her eyes.

                “If this is all for Siyaad’s benefit, why are you agreeing to this? You can snap your fingers and find a woman who will be your silent shadow. You clearly already dislike me. You can still refuse this, you can help Siyaad without—”

                “Enough!” Bitterness rose up inside Ayaan, burning in his blood like a fire unchecked. He reveled in the anger, in the way it burned away the crippling fear that was always lurking beneath the surface eating away the weight of what his lucidity meant to him. “You think you are anything like the woman I would want to marry if it wasn’t for duty, if it wasn’t to repay the debt my father owes yours?” he said, filling his every word with the clawing anger he felt.

                Every inch of color fled from her face and she looked as if he had struck her. And Ayaan crushed the little flare of remorse he felt.

                It would have been better if his unwanted wife had been a woman who would scurry at the thought of being in the same room with the Mad Prince. But this defiant woman was what fate had brought him.

                There was no point in railing against it. “There is very little that matters left to me, Princess. Except my word. And I would rather be dead than lose that, too.”

                “Then, send me back when Wasim turns eighteen, when he doesn’t need your protection anymore, however long that might take. The world will still know that Siyaad has your support. You can claim that I was an unsuitable wife and I will not contest you. You can sever all connections with me and no one will point a finger.”

                He shook his head, surprised at the depth of her anger toward their way of life.

                To be rid of her when there was no need anymore was an infinitely tempting offer. But there would be no honor in it. “If I send you back, you will become the object of speculation and ridicule. That is a very high price for your freedom, Princess. It will always be tainted in Siyaad.”

                He saw the tremor that went through her, the fear that surfaced in her gaze. But of course, she didn’t heed it. He already knew that much about this woman. “Anything is better than being locked in a marriage whose very fabric is dictated by duty and nothing else.”

                “Marriage to me doesn’t have to be the nightmare you are expecting.”