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He desired her as he’d never desired anyone. But he could not be selfish enough to keep her. Not when she might be in danger. Not when she dreamed of love. He had to let her go.
Unless she was pregnant.
If Beth was pregnant, he would be bound not just by law, but by honor, to keep her as his wife. And he would. Even if he had to defy his nobles, his people, the entire world.
Defy them, would he? A voice mocked. He hadn’t even been able to protect Beth from his own people today!
And that would always be a risk. If she remained as his queen, she’d have to give up her country, her home, her freedom. And for what? She didn’t care about wealth or power or fame. As she’d said, she wouldn’t know what to do with them if she had them.
What Beth wanted was love. And Omar could not love her. He did not know how.
Dr. Nazari came out of the bedroom, her gray head bowed.
“Well?” he demanded anxiously.
“The Lady Beth is fine, Your Highness. Just a few cuts and bruises that I have bandaged. It could have been worse.” Her dark eyes were kind. “She asks you go in and speak with her now.”
With a deep breath, Omar went inside the queen’s bedchamber.
The room was dark. The shades had been drawn. He saw Beth’s wan figure, now wearing loose pajamas, tucked into the bed. He sat down beside her. Her eyes were downcast.
“The doctor gave me good news. You’re not hurt,” he said, trying to keep his voice cheerful. “You’ll soon make a full recovery.”
“I have news for you, too,” she whispered. She took a deep breath, then lifted her gaze to his. “I’m not pregnant.”
* * *
Beth watched his handsome face turning to shock, then something else—grief? No, surely not.
“You—you are sure?” he said hoarsely.
Miserably, she nodded.
She’d been happy the last few weeks. She’d always wanted to help people, and as Samarqara’s queen, she’d been able to do that. She’d been trying to learn the Samarqari language as quickly as she could. She’d loved talking to people from all walks of life—students, workers, elderly people. In spite of her awkwardness, they’d still made her feel welcome. Like she was home.
But it had all ended today.
Beth looked at Omar, sitting next to her on the bed. His handsome face was expressionless. Frozen. As if he didn’t know how to react.
He was being kind, she thought. He had to be secretly relieved he could take Laila al-Abayyi as his queen.
She’d seen the good Omar did for the community. His country was prosperous, his people loved him. His gruff, ruthless exterior hid a kind heart, desperate to do right by his people, even if that meant sacrificing his own happiness.
Or hers. So as heartbreaking as it was, Beth knew she had to leave. Because Omar didn’t love her, and he never would.
For too many years, she had thought she didn’t deserve to be loved. She’d thought she was nothing special, that she was too ordinary.
But now...somehow, after being chosen as his bride, and living here in this place, acting as Omar’s queen, she found that something had changed in her. She’d realized she deserved love as much as anybody.
And she would find it. Even if that meant leaving behind a man she could have loved, with all her body and heart and soul. She could easily have given him the rest of her life.
Even now, as she looked at him in the shadowy coolness of her bedroom, her heart cried out to stay.
But she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m glad.” His expression was flat. “You are free now. Just as you wished.”
