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Khalil let out a polite cough. “There’s, err, nothing to spill.”
“Like I’d fucking believe that.” And when the other four sheikhs grinned, Tarif knew he was right in suspecting the lie in the king’s words.
“She’s been living and working here since she was eighteen,” Malik began.
Tarif’s eyes bored through Malik’s. “That still doesn’t explain things.” Hundreds of people lived within the palace’s vast compound, and he knew all of them as well as the other sheikhs did. So why was it that this Anisah was different? How was it that all of his cousins appeared to be so familiar with her, and he alone was not?
“Do you really want the truth?” Altair asked finally.
“What else do you think I’ve been asking for from the—-”
The king interrupted him, saying simply, “She doesn’t like you.”
“I think she used the word ‘immature’ when describing you,” Rayyan put forward solemnly.
“I believe she also said something about our brother being a man who has no business in the courtroom since he spends too much time hopping from one bedroom to another,” Altair mused.
“A disgrace to the palace,” Malik drawled. “I distinctly recall her saying this as well.”
And then Tarif said very slowly, “I see.”
The four other sheikhs’ amusement disappeared in a flash.
That tone was not good...for Anisah.
“Do not take her words personally,” the king said immediately.
“You chose to portray yourself as a playboy,” Rayyan asserted. “It’s not her fault she sees you the way the rest of the world sees you.”
“Best you forget her,” Altair said. “She is not worth your time.”
“Anisah is a good woman, Tarif,” Malik insisted. “She does not deserve whatever it is you’re planning.”
“I understand, brothers.” Tarif’s tone was of utter politeness, and at the sound of it, the four other sheikhs winced in shared regret.
Well, that was it then.
They had just turned Anisah into a challenge, and everyone in this room knew how much Tarif loved challenges. It was what Tarif lived for, and there was nothing he would not do to conquer one.
Chapter One
Present time
It was almost three in the afternoon by the time Anisah Kahveci came out of the library, her departure made necessary by the not-so-subtle grumbling of her stomach. After nodding courteously towards the guards stationed outside the doors, she headed towards the stairs at a brisk pace, fully intending to have her midday meal and make it back in under half an hour. With her presentation only a week away, she still had to—-
Oh.
Anisah ducked her head as soon as she caught sight of Sheikh Tarif Al-Atassi coming up the stairs, dressed in an elegant grey tweed suit. Among his cousins, he was the only one who seemed to have a stated preference for Western clothing over their kingdom’s traditional robes; it was a trait Anisah secretly found baffling, considering he was also the only full-blooded Ramilian one among the five sheikhs that made up the kingdom’s highest branch of government.
With the sheikh now only a few steps away, Anisah came to a stop and once he was near enough to hear her, she murmured respectfully, “Yam jamil, Your Highness.” The term meant ‘a beautiful day’ in their language, a formal greeting commonly used when greeting one’s superiors.
Afterwards, she waited for the sheikh to walk past her like he usually did.
But this time he did not.
Instead, the sheikh stopped right in front of her, asking lazily, “Anisah, is it not?”
Her head jerked up in confusion, and violet eyes unintentionally clashed with hooded black eyes.
