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Chloe had nothing that her father had seen as meritorious – even the blood in her veins, that was half-his, had not been enough to redeem her.

And how she’d loved him anyway! How she’d adored reading about his business successes, seeing his name and image in the papers, knowing him to be someone of such incredible repute! How she’d longed for his approval, his affection.

She could still remember the day he’d called her – it was only the second time he’d done any such thing and the first had been to tell her that her mother was dead.

That had been a stilted, short conversation. Going through the motions – his offer for her to move to Greece, her demur, his obvious relief.

So when he called her for the second time in her life, she felt a heavy sense of worry – naturally her mind had gone to Apollo. But Apollo was fine. The old man had been calling with good news, he’d promised. “Malik has begged me to grant his son your hand in marriage.”

She’d been floored – and had asked a lot of bumbling questions about her potential groom. Though she’d visited Ras el Kida several times, as Malik’s guest, she’d never met his son. The idea was almost impossible to credit, except she remembered Apollo telling her, at some point, that Raffa was required to marry – and to marry well.

Chloe had been given a classical education, despite the fact she’d not excelled at it. She spoke several languages, and had been sent to finishing school in Switzerland at her father’s insistence. Had he known, even then, that she would marry a King?

When Chloe had agreed, she’d wanted only one thing from her father: his love. All of it. She’d wanted him to wrap her in a hug and tell her he was proud of her.

He’d died before he’d had the chance – and now, she had gained a fresh perspective.

Her father would not have been proud of her.

Her father would not have said he loved her.

Because he hadn’t.

On some level, she supposed she should have been grateful that he at least acknowledged her to be his child: something her own husband wasn’t willing to do for his lovechild.

Anger and anticipation were at war within her system! She didn’t know

how to feel! Chloe was at sea, and it was rolling and shifting, splashing her with new sensations and doubts even when her decision had been made.

Her ladies’ maids didn’t share her sense of emotional ambiguity. When they entered her suite shortly after a light breakfast of fruit and sweet pastry had been served, they brought with them an air of unmistakable exuberance.

All traditions were strictly adhered to at the palace; far more so than had been the case in the city. There, she had been free to dress in casual clothes if she’d wanted to, so long as she wasn’t taking part in any official duties. Her maids dressed her in one of the gowns that was required – an emerald green with diamonds at the collar and cuff – and then excused themselves with low bows that almost hid their twitching smiles.

“Okay, Aysha,” she asked her chief lady in waiting, once they were alone. “What is it? What are you all smiling about?”

Aysha didn’t bother to obfuscate.

“They are happy to be home, your highness.”

Chloe was thunderstruck. “Home? This is their home?”

“Well, yes. Naturally.”

“Not, ‘naturally’!” Chloe disputed with a shake of her head. “You mean the palace is where they lived? And then I made everyone move to the city just because I didn’t want to be here?”

“Our job is to be where you are,” Aysha pointed out kindly. “If you choose to take part in the Mars program, I’m afraid we would have to take our positions on the rocket alongside you.”

Chloe laughed but it was a noise of brittle exhaustion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know you were interested in Mars,” Aysha teased.

“You know what I mean.” Chloe toyed with her wedding ring – an enormous solitaire diamond – out of habit. She often spun it around her finger when she was thinking, pushing it to the knuckle joint and back to the webbing of her slim fingers. “If you all wanted to be at the palace, you should have said so.”

“We are your servants,” Aysha chided, softening the rebuke with a gentle smile. “Our job is to serve you. Why should our desires matter?”

“How can you speak like that! You know they matter to me. We’ve worked together closely since I arrived in Ras el Kida. Have I ever seemed like a despot to you?”

“No. But you are a princess, a Sheikha, and your husband is the ruler of this country. No one in Ras el Kida is stupid enough to risk displeasing him.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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