The Last Prince of Dahaar(25)
He turned and the distress in his gaze shook her insides. Shadows upon shadows flickered in the golden depths, mocking her petty insecurities and peevishness. She knew he wanted to leave, but she also knew he would castigate himself later.
Words came and fell away from her mouth, every one more trite than the previous. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he saw, or felt at that moment.
She shook her head with a tsk-tsk sound, strove to fill her words with a lightness that she was far from feeling. She tugged at his fingers, forcing him to focus on her touch, her words. “Is it because of my illegitimate birth or the fact that I lack a certain important organ that I have never been treated with half such enthusiasm in Siyaad?”
A lick of humor came alive in his gaze. “I would say a combination of both.” The tight lines around his mouth relented. His gaze swept over her, wide, intense. “And more importantly, what they show you or not show you is only a reflection of your own interest in them, Princess.”
Even with the black cloud of whatever it was that haunted him, he didn’t hold back his punches. She nodded, even though the truth stung. “Whereas you, they have known you your entire life.”
He nodded. She heard him release his breath, felt him move closer to her until their sides grazed. “Except for the last few years.”
“I thought turning back on something like this was nothing for a prince but it is not, is it?” she ventured.
She felt his gaze move over her, but stared straight ahead. Their fingers were still laced together, and yet there was no getting used to the feel of his rough fingers against hers. “No,” he said after a long pause.
“What about this...bothers you, Prince Ayaan?”
He clamped his fingers tighter around hers. She must have made a sound because he instantly loosened his grip. “I’m not the man they think I am. I am not the man I thought I was long ago.”
Zohra took in the eager anticipation on every face in the crowd. Standing so close to him, feeling the heat from his hard body, seeing him fight his fears with every inch of him, she had never been surer of a man’s strength. “I have spent many moments in the past week accompanying you to various state functions that hold no meaning or significance for me, I have witnessed their celebration in your name. And I have come to understand one thing. They know exactly who you are, what it takes for you to be here and they accept you, Prince Ayaan. Even I know how rare that is.”
It was only after the words had left her mouth that Zohra realized the very truth in them. Still, she braced herself for his mockery, expected him to laugh at her. Because, in reality, she was beginning to see how very little she knew about this life, and what it entailed.
He leaned down toward her, and she was enveloped by the scent and heat of his skin. “You are a contradiction in yourself, Princess. I cannot quite decide whether the selfish, defiant version is the real you or this quiet, regal, perceptive one.”
Shock robbing her senses, Zohra just stared at him. Was she both or was she neither?
She was still wondering the answer to that when Ayaan took a step forward and waved at the crowd. Their roaring response was earsplitting.
He turned around and looked at her. His gaze studied her as if solving a puzzle. And then instead of asking her, he tugged her forward until she had no choice but to walk by his side.
Be my wife at state functions.
It was one of the few things he had asked of her, and in this moment, Zohra couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was her that Prince Ayaan saw and not a faceless, nameless woman he had married in the name of duty. And try as she did, the feeling wouldn’t leave her alone.