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“And you didn’t like her?” Ash prompted curiously.
“Whether I liked her or not is besides the point. I do not want to enter into a marriage just because my father would like the question of Falina and Kalastan nicely stitched up.” Before he dies.
The end of the sentence hung in the air between them, like a heavy foreshadowing of a grief neither knew how to process.
“There’s someone else?” Ash prompted.
“No.” Syed compressed his lips. Images of Sarah came to him out of nowhere. He would not let himself think of her. She was a distraction he didn’t need.
“So? Why not marry Charlotte? I have seen photographs of her. She’s stunning.”
“Is she?”
Ash nodded, remembering the dark hair, red lips, brown eyes, pale skin. “I don’t think her beauty subjective.”
“We are talking about marriage! A woman I tie myself to for life. Bring to my bed! I would like some damned say in the matter.”
Ash laughed. “You are a Sheikh, as am I. There is a long precedent of our marriages being organised for political gain. Why do you not go to Falina yourself? Meet with Charlotte, see if you can imagine her as your wife?”
“And if I don’t? Rejecting her having spent time courting her is an insult that could lead to war. No, Ash. There is only one way to put this marriage off. And I need your help.”
“You know I would do anything for you,” Ash said, though he was dubious that Syed’s scheme would have any merit. “What do you suggest?”
“Go to Falina, as planned. But stay. Stay long enough to learn something of Charlotte that would make her unsuitable as my bride.”
Ash felt a rumbling of discontent roll through his gut. “And if there is nothing?”
Syed shook his head, a smile on his lips. “There will be. No one can be as perfect as she’s purported to be. Find some dirt, and I will use it to put an end to this betrothal.”
“But if there’s really nothing?” Ash insisted, nowhere nearly as confident as Syed.
“Then I will marry her.” Syed squared his shoulders and stared out at the Old City, thinking of the thousands of lives that had been lived within its walls. “Please, Ash. Do your best. I’m counting on you.”
CHAPTER ONE
“Your highness?”
Ash lifted his head from the laptop, ignoring for a moment the emails he was wading through.
“Yes?” It was a curt abrasion for the intrusion. He had left strict instructions that he was not to be disturbed. In the two days since arriving in Falina, he’d achieved precisely nothing on Operation Betrothal Break. A few emails with the Falina palace, but other matters had more urgently commanded his attention.
Or was it that he was wasting time, dreading the very idea of looking to discredit an innocent woman just to save his cousin from a marriage he found unpalatable?
“There is a visitor for you, from the palace.”
He put his pen down and stood. He had been dreaming to imagine he could put this off indefinitely. “Who is it?”
“Her Royal Highness Charlotte Shareef.”
Ash paused, midway through straightening his robes. “Is it?” He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw, curiosity overriding any other emotion.
“May I allow her to enter?”
“Of course. She is the Heir to the throne of Falina and you have left
her waiting in the hallway?”
The servant, fearing he’d erred in some crucial way, bowed extra low as he backed out of the room. Ash had only a moment to organise his thoughts before the door was pushed inwards.
