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He heard the echo of his own voice from what felt like long ago. True love—what is that?
When you care for someone so much, she’d replied, their happiness matters more than your own.
Omar looked up with an intake of breath.
He loved her.
“Sire.” His vizier entered the dark garden. “Your bride is on her way. It’s time.”
“I can’t,” Omar breathed.
Khalid frowned. “What?”
“I love her,” he whispered.
“You love your bride? Excellent. In a moment, you’ll speak your vows, then we’ll toast the future...”
“Not Laila,” Omar said harshly. “Beth.” His voice softened as his heart soared. Why had he never seen it before? “I love Beth.” He started to turn. “I must go to her—”
“You cannot be so selfish, Omar.”
His vizier had never spoken to him so harshly. He looked back in astonishment. “Selfish?”
“Would you see this country fall back into civil war? To see our city again become a ruin? To see innocents suffer—merely because you want that shop girl back in your bed?”
Omar took a deep breath. “No. But—”
“You cannot insult Laila like this. Not after what you did to Ferida.”
“What I...did to her?”
“Forcing her to marry you against her will,” Khalid said coldly. “And now you will scorn and humiliate her half sister? Hassan al-Abayyi will not forgive again. You must know this.” His vizier came closer, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “You cannot turn back now. You must act like a king.”
Like a king, Omar thought dimly.
Just then, Laila walked into the garden, on the arm of her proud father. She looked beautiful and regal in her traditional Samarqari gown and bridal headdress. Omar thought of his kingdom and tried to steel himself for this last, most important sacrifice.
But he could not do it.
His heart was Beth’s. He could not pretend otherwise and marry another. For that would be the ultimate lie, the betrayal of his very core. And what kind of king, what kind of ruler could he be, without a heart? Without a soul?
For the first time, he understood why Ferida had fled to the desert rather than wed him against her will. For he was willing to do that now.
For Beth, Omar would set the whole world on fire.
“I’m sorry.” He looked between Laila and her father. “I have great respect for your family. But this marriage cannot go on.”
The other three looked at each other in astonishment.
Hassan al-Abayyi’s face turned red beneath the torchlight as he sputtered, “If you even think you can...”
The vizier cut him off with a smooth gesture. Lifting his face into a bland smile, he said benignly, “If the king cannot wed today, then he cannot, and there is no more to be said.”
Omar looked at his distant cousin with gratitude. “Thank you, Khalid.”
Turning to the nearby table, the vizier poured wine into four golden goblets. “We will toast to the future, and the friendship that will always exist between the throne and the al-Abayyi family.” He held out one of the goblets to Omar. “Surely you mean no insult to their honor.”
“None,” Omar said, relieved they were taking it so well. He took the goblet. Glancing at each other, the others took their goblets from the table.
