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He shrugged. ‘Because she was incapable of it. Ultimately, she couldn’t love anyone but herself.’ Perhaps it was a flaw he needed to come to terms with, and move on.
Niesha wasn’t like that though.
She loved children. She would love their child with the same passion with which she loved his people. The same devotion with which she loved her people enough to threaten to walk away from him and his crown to serve them again. That kind of selflessness was humbling. Inspiring.
How could he stop her from pursuing that, from giving to people who would love her back, and welcome her with open arms the way his people had done?
Malak sighed. ‘I wish he’d done something.’
‘Who?’
‘Father. I wish he’d made a decision one way or the other. Demanded that she love him and us, or leave her. Instead of trailing after her all those years. Instead of making us live each dreadful moment with him.’
‘I don’t think it was that simple,’ Zufar found himself explaining. ‘Maybe he was left with very little choice.’
His brother sneered, turned and started walking away. ‘Whatever. I’m over it. Anyway, it’s been a good talk. If you decide you need me after all, you know where to find me.’
Zufar barely heard him leave. And as he stared into the bottom of his glass, he found his thoughts veering in another direction.
To his father.
CHAPTER TEN
NIESHA STOOD IN front of the plane door, waiting for the attendant to open it. Unlike the flight to Europe, this one had been short and nerve-shredding, her emotions swinging between what awaited her in Rumadah and what she’d left behind.
The last three days had been alternately perfect and horrendous. The coordinated news of her real identity had been greeted with another wave of happy frenzy across the world, the short interview she’d given to explain her unfortunate absence accessed over a billion times online. That had been her public life.
In private, she’d remained in turmoil.
Even though he’d given her his blessing, Zufar had stayed away from her, and in the rare moments when they’d met, his gaze had chilled her. He still came to their bed, but it was only to sleep, with his back to her and a mile between them. When they needed to communicate, they did so via their priv
ate secretaries.
That was how she’d found out he’d granted her access to his royal jet to make this trip. That was how she’d found out he’d gone on a whistle-stop tour of his kingdom and wasn’t expected back before her departure.
Their conversation in the conference room had left her bruised and hollow and heart-wrenchingly convinced that her days with Zufar were numbered. It was why she’d thrown herself into this visit.
When he was out of her life, at least she would have this, her new life, to fall back on. The more she’d absorbed about her heritage, the more she was certain she wanted to claim her birthright. Her parents had loved this kingdom and dedicated their lives to it. How could she walk away?
In a way it was easier that Zufar had laid down an ultimatum.
No. It wasn’t.
She would have preferred a different ultimatum. One that made loving and dedicating herself to both kingdoms possible. But she knew it was another dream she needed to let go of. Just as she knew she would need to reconcile herself to letting Zufar go.
Divorce.
That was what one of her advisers had cautiously suggested during their meeting in Khalia.
Divorce the man who hadn’t meant to be her husband in the first place so she could be free to fully embrace her destiny.
Such an easy suggestion. With such catastrophic consequences for her heart, her soul, every breath she took from here on out.
‘We’re ready, Your Serene Highness,’ the Rumadian attendant said softly, with a blinding smile and shining eyes that hinted of tears. ‘And if you’ll permit me to say, I’m so happy you’re here,’ she gushed.
Niesha returned her smile, then her heart lurched wildly as the door slid soundlessly open and sunshine poured into the doorway.
Momentarily blinded, she blinked a few times, smoothing her hands over her royal blue wrap dress before stepping forwards. Immediately, a deafening roar went up over the sound of the still-whirling jet engines.
