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‘No.’
For the first time since she’d known him, Zaid looked lost for words. So was she, to be honest, since the last question she’d expected to hear from his lips were the ones he’d uttered a minute ago.
‘Marry me?’
But the answer that powered from her soul stemmed from the knowledge that, even though her heart had leapt for a single moment, this was wrong. Perhaps it had also stemmed from the fact that the previous time she’d received a proposal, it had also been the under wrong circumstances. Plus she’d spent the last ten days in near isolation, Zaid’s terse words that she remain in the palace when they’d returned from Tujullah ringing in her ears. He’d offered very little explanation save to say she’d earned a break after throwing herself into her work for three weeks. But she’d known there was more to the command.
Marry me.
The words weren’t delivered with flowery sentiment or devotion, but with the gravity of a thousand drums behind them. Wherever he’d been these last few days, this conclusion had been well thought out and finalised. Without her input or approval.
‘What did you say?’ he finally demanded.
‘I said no. I won’t marry you. And before you narrow your eyes at me, we both know this proposal is based solely on the possibility that I might be pregnant.’
His eyes did narrow. And his body tensed too as he strolled to where she’d been admiring the garden in one of the many private courtyards that peppered the palace. She’d had a lot of time on her hands to explore over the past ten days. Each new discovery had been more breath-taking than the last. Esme didn’t know whether she loved the Royal Palace more because she’d discovered that Zaid’s parents had chosen to live in a hotel for three years while they’d built this palace from the ground up after they’d donated their old palace to an orphanage in desperate need of housing, or because each stone contained a rich history that spoke of the love and devotion Ja’ahrians held for Zaid’s parents.
The knowledge that she was falling in love with the culture and people of Ja’ahr had crept up on her. The knowledge that she’d roamed the palace secretly, looking out for its ruler and wishing they were still out on the road when he’d been more accessible was a more disturbing discovery.
Her leaping senses absorbed his face, his voice, now even as she accepted that what he was asking of her was impossible.
‘Of course it is,’ he confirmed, his expression puzzled at her response. ‘It’s the right thing to do to legitimise my heir.’
Esme almost laughed. Only the peculiar ache lodged in her chest kept the sound from escaping. ‘And how would waiting a few more days make a difference?’ she asked, even though she knew marriage would be an impossible choice for her then, too. ‘Or, better still, we can clear this up right now if you’ll allow me to take an early pregnancy test.’
His frown deepened. ‘Why are you convinced you’re not carrying my child?’
‘I’m not convinced. It’s just I don’t understand why you’re waiting to find out. And I don’t understand why you’re proposing marriage. Like you said, your people are forward-thinking. Will they really question the legitimacy of your baby, if there is one, based on when exactly he or she is born?’
His jaw clenched. ‘The general advice is to wait until two weeks have passed or better still once the date of your next cycle is exceeded to be definite. As for the timing of the marriage, I don’t care what other people think. I would prefer that we move as quickly as possible. A wedding, especially one to a sovereign, takes time to plan and execute.’
She shook her head. ‘But that’s not everything, is it? What aren’t you telling me, Zaid?’
He kept silent for so long she thought he wouldn’t respond. He paced to the edge of the bubbling fountain, looking at it for a long moment.
‘There’s been a push for me to marry for a while now. A push I’ve resisted even though it’s my destiny and duty to marry and produce heirs. But the time has come and I don’t wish to wait any longer.’
Esme conjured up an image of a future Zaid, married to a faceless woman, one who would happily wear his ring and bear his children. The certainty it wouldn’t be her sent a large dose of disquiet ringing through her, escalating her fear that her growing attachment to all things Ja’ahr extended to its ruler too.
Sternly, she pushed the suggestion away. She had too much baggage to ever contemplate such a thing.
‘All the better reason for you to rule out a pregnancy quickly. Then once we discover that I’m not pregnant, you can find someone more appropriate to marry.’
He whirled to face her. ‘Appropriate?’
The laughter that finally emerged scraped her throat. ‘Come on, Zaid. Would you have even considered me as a suitable bride had we not had a mishap with contraception?’
He had the grace to hesitate, to not insult them both by rushing to deny what she’d said. His lids veiled his expression for a moment before he looked back up at her. ‘We are where we are. The only way is to be pragmatic about our situation.’
‘This is absurd. An early pregnancy test will clear all of this up. They’re very reliable now. Then we can both go back to living our lives.’
For some reason that made his expression darker. ‘You say that as if it’s a separate thing. Have you forgotten that you’ve committed to living under my roof, under my protection, for as long as I require?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t forgotten. But neither have I forgotten that it won’t be for ever.’ Again that punch of disquiet unnerved her at the thought of her future departure from Ja’ahr. From Zaid.
The observation displeased him even more. He stared at her for an age, before he reached out and caught her wrist in a firm hold, then began to lead her out of the courtyard. ‘Very well, let’s get this over and done with,’ he rasped.
‘Where are we going?’ Esme demanded as she hurried to keep up with his longer strides.
