How did she make her sister understand? “It might be fine here, but what will everyone else think? What will the people at home think?”
“Who cares? Piper, the people at home made your life hell. Don’t you dare think you have to live by their standards. Do you understand what you’re being given? You’re being given the chance to not give a damn what anyone thinks.”
Her sister was a little naïve. “Oh, sweetie, that’s just not true. That’s not what a princess is. Or a shaykhah. Don’t you know that every eye will be on me?”
It would be just like it had been at home, but on a global scale. Everyone would watch her. Everyone would be waiting for her to make a dumb move. The press would live for her mistakes. They would be splashed across the tabloids.
Mindy threw her arms up in obvious frustration. “Who cares? Piper, they can’t do anything to you. Who cares what they say? You have the power. You just have to take it. You’ll be a queen.”
But was she ready for that? No. Not at all.
And still, with her heart yearning for the sense of belonging and connection she’d felt last night, she wasn’t sure she could walk away.
“I don’t know, Min. What the press didn’t tell you is that those incredibly hot men didn’t bother to tell me they were pledging to marry me. They thought they could just sort of fool me for a while and then they would ask me.”
Mindy groaned. “God, it is so good to know that men are dumbasses all over the world. Look, do you care about them, Piper?”
She was in love with them. After last night, she was pretty sure she would never love anyone else. But they had lied. How could they start any sort of meaningful life together like that? And Talib had been so cold this morning. The heat and desire of the night before had been gone. The man she’d made love with, given her virginity to, had fled, and she’d been forced to deal with a sheikh instead.
“I’m crazy about them, but I don’t know that it’s enough.”
Mindy sighed, sitting forward, her hand on the screen. “I love you, sister. I’m going to give you the same advice you gave me that day so long ago. Do you remember? Our parents were gone. You stayed home with me. I didn’t want to go to school because I knew everyone would pity me. What did you say to me?”
Piper remembered the day. It had been so hard to let her sister go. She’d been so young, but the responsibility had weighed on her. Mindy’s first day of high school. Their parents should have been there. Piper had tried to come up with something her mother might have said. Piper put her hand to the screen, the need to touch her sister so strong, she couldn’t resist. “I told you to be brave. I told you that this was your world, and you were the only one who could build it.”
Her sister nodded, the words heavy between them. “Build your world, Piper. Build it strong so no one can tear it down. I’ll be there no matter what.”
“I love you.” Her sister had turned into a strong woman. She’d done one thing right.
“You, too. Call me later. And if you can, make sure this little camera thingee catches those hot hunks in various states of undress.” Mindy grinned just before her hand moved and the connection was broken.
Piper shut the lid on the computer, her sister’s words ringing through her head. Build her world. It had been a silly thing to say. She’d struggled to find the words to give Mindy strength that day, but they had proven true. She’d managed to build a world for them both and then, when Mindy no longer needed it, she’d started building her own.
Was she willing to shut Rafe and Kade and Tal out because they hadn’t said the right things? Before she truly knew what was in their hearts? Or should she try building a world and then tell them how to live in it?
“Miss Glen?”
Piper turned, startled at the deep voice that cut through the quiet. A man stood in the doorway. He wore a perfectly cut suit and the maroon tie that every member of the senate wore. A politician. “Yes?”
He bowed slightly. “I am a member of the parliament. I represent one of the western districts. I wanted to welcome you. I actually just came from the parliament building. We had a special session in order to discuss the sheikh’s new situation.”
She stood, wishing she hadn’t been caught crying. The man before her was polished and smooth, his dark eyes assessing her. He was a gaunt man, almost stark, but he was being excruciatingly polite. And she was well aware that she was the sheikh’s new situation. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t told to expect visitors.”
He smiled, but there was no humor to it. “I apologize if I offend.”