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‘Oh, he never punished me, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s not one for physical punishment or outward displays of aggression.’ Her eyes narrowed slightly. ‘I wonder if perhaps a good spanking might have left less scars; I don’t know. He grabbed the box, he took me by the hand and he brought me to my mother. I remember she was sitting drinking brandy in the salon. She smiled at me after he made her tell me the truth. It was the saddest smile I have ever seen.

‘And then I just stood there, twelve years old, and listened to my father spout rage and venom while my mother stared blankly out of the window. At one point he turned to me, photograph in his hand, and he said, “I am not your father. He is.” I will never forget that moment as long as I live. His eyes were almost black with rage, spittle flying out of his mouth as he spoke. I remember flinching as he held the photograph inches from my nose, screaming at me to look at it, to look at him. Him being the man my mother had betrayed our family with.’

Khal let the silence fall between them, amazed at the lack of emotion on her pale features as she recounted such awful memories. For a moment he felt the urge to close the space between them, to reach out and take her in his arms. It was too intimate, too much emotion tangling up the logical side of his brain that he knew was the priority right now. But his wife was hurting, that much was clear. She might not show her pain, but he could see it in the way she held her shoulders pulled straight, in the way she held her chin high but her lip quivered slightly.

Making his decision, he moved to her side and took both of her hands in his own.

‘When you said that you were marrying me as part of your duty,’ he began, tilting her chin up so that he could see her face, ‘did this secret have anything to do with it? Were you blackmailed?’ He did not know what he would do if the answer was yes.

She met his eyes for a moment, the sadness he saw there so profound that he felt his breath catch.

‘I was not blackmailed, Khal. My father was already planning to cancel my research work and call me back to Monteverre, whether I agreed to this marriage or not. I made the mistake of sending him a letter around the same time that Olivia had run away from your engagement offer. I told him of a job offer I had received at the university. He was furious. I might not be a Sandoval by blood but I still held the name and title. By agreeing to marry you...he said it would make him proud.’ Her voice broke on the last word.

Khal felt his chest constrict, his arms surrounding her as she finally melted into him and let the tears fall. Hearing the evidence of yet more emotional manipulation by such a cruel man made the primal beast within him growl even louder. To use his daughter’s love against her, to manipulate her... He took a breath, loosening his hold on her and creating enough space between them so that he could look down into her eyes.

‘I will make an excuse for you; there is no reason to force you to return to the function in this kind of emotional state.’

‘No.’ She shook her head, standing up straight and blotting her eyes lightly with the tips of her fingers. ‘It was childish of me to run off like that. Tonight is about taking my place as Sheikha. It’s better if we maintain a united front, like the team said. I can hold myself together for another hour or two.’

‘You are sure?’ Khal frowned at the sudden change in her posture, the way she seemed to so easily switch off such deep pain and anguish.

She nodded, all the weakness from a moment before gone. Aside from a slight smudge at the corner of one eye, it would take very close scrutiny to know that she had been crying at all. She was practised in hiding her pain, he knew now. It made something inside him clench to know that she was now hiding it from him too.

* * *

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur. Cressida did not know if perhaps the news had not broken as quickly as they expected it to, or perhaps their guests were simply putting on a very convincing front. But it was a relief that no one seemed to be looking at her differently, no hushed conversations seemed to occur in her vicinity. Or perhaps her inner turmoil was such that she simply did not notice or care.

It felt as though all the energy in her body had been depleted, leaving her weak and tired. So, so tired.

The news that her biological father was dead had shocked her, even though she had never met the man. She had only ever seen his picture, and read the beautiful letters sent to her mother. Vincent was his name, a humble chauffeur. How utterly clichéd that her mother would have a sordid affair with her driver. This really was the media’s dream scandal. Most likely, there would be books written. Hollywood probably had someone penning a script as they spoke.

She kept her polite smile in place as the guests began to filter out, taking the chance to slip quietly away. She had fulfilled her duty, she had sat and eaten and listened to speeches and applauded at the correct times. Now, she wanted nothing more than to collapse in her bed and bury herself beneath the covers until the rest of the world was no longer talking about her.

Khal had not spoken to her since they’d returned to the banquet; clearly he was far too preoccupied in ensuring that they retained the power in this awful situation she had created. Poor him, having shackled himself to such an unworthy bride. Heaven only knew what the Zayyari public would make of this scandal. Perhaps there would be call for an annulment of the marriage, now that it was public knowledge that her parentage was illegitimate. She was polluting the royal image of the kingdom with her scandal and secrecy.

Once in her room, she went abo

ut the ritual of allowing her maid to assist her with the more difficult garments, then dismissed the young woman for the night so that she could take her time getting ready for bed. She removed the pearl earrings from her ears, placing them delicately into the small box on her dressing table. Next, she removed the heavy necklace from her neck, taking a final moment to admire the glitter of the sapphires in the lamplight.

Standing up from her table, she took a moment to take in the designer lingerie that had been paired with her evening gown. Apparently a dress like hers required a specific cut of bra and underwear to achieve maximum effect. She had just been grateful that she wasn’t forced to wear some sort of medieval corset.

The bra was definitely designed well, she smiled to herself. A movement in the mirror caught her eye, and she looked up to see Khal standing in the doorway. They both stood frozen for a moment, Cressida with one hand awkwardly cupping the lace of her bra.

‘I came to talk.’ He averted his eyes, seeming suddenly transfixed upon a spot on the floor. ‘I’ll wait in the living room.’ With that, he turned around and closed the door behind him.

Cressida exhaled slowly, dropping her hand from her breast to rest at her side. A bubble of nervous laughter rose in her chest. If he didn’t already think she was odd, after walking in to find her examining her own bra...

Not wanting to keep him waiting, she threw on her dressing gown, making sure it was closed tight at the front, and tied a double knot at her waist. Slipping on her silk slippers, she contemplated tying her hair into a loose bun but decided against it, considering that it had been pinned up already all evening. Most likely Khal simply wanted to give her an update on the media situation and he would be gone, leaving her free to fall into bed alone as usual.

He sat in an easy repose on her small settee, long legs casually crossed one over the other as he flipped through the fashion magazine that had been left on her coffee table.

‘I just want to clarify that I don’t usually stand and examine myself in the mirror like that, in case you think me awfully vain.’ She kept her tone light in an effort to appear easy and unaffected by the fact that he had just witnessed her half naked. Not that that exactly mattered, considering that he had already seen her fully naked once before, but she wouldn’t dwell too much on that thought if she planned to get through this conversation.

‘And here I was thinking I had stumbled upon another little secret of yours.’ He attempted a smile.

Cressida appreciated his attempt at humour, considering he was not usually one for jokes. She took a seat on the other side of the settee, carefully keeping the folds of her dressing gown together. For a moment she thought she saw his eyes scanning her body slowly, then he blinked and looked away.

‘You disappeared tonight before I had the chance to talk further,’ he said. ‘I wanted to express my admiration for you this evening. Returning to that dinner could not have been easy.’

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