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The sheikh’s lips twitched at Anisah’s words. “I should’ve known you’d be happy to hear that.” He paused. “However – I’m sorry to disappoint you that you don’t actually qualify.”
“If that is a dig about my loyalty to the crown—-”
“You may have your moments,” the sheikh cut her off smoothly, “but real fanaticism?”
“And your point is, Your Highness?” She glared at the center table, which unfortunately was not as satisfactory as glaring at the sheikh.
“My mother was one.”
Anisah started. What...did he say?
But the sheikh had already started talking again.
A scandalous divorce that involved having her husband leave her for an older and less attractive woman, an all-consuming need for validation, a psychological incapacity to care – these were just a few of the various factors that had eventually turned his mother Tamara into a fanatic.
Because her gender prevented her from fulfilling her dreams of leading the kingdom, Tamara had then set her sights on her only son on becoming her older brother Khalid’s successor. For her, Khalil couldn’t have been the rightful heir because of his illegitimacy. Tarif, however, was not only legitimate but was also the only full-blooded Al-Atassi among his cousins.
Because of his mother’s obsessive ambition, most of Tarif’s childhood memories were of Tamara screaming at him constantly, pushing him to be more and better than the other Al-Atassi children. In public engagements, she would pretend to laugh things off when someone remarked how beautiful he was. But as soon as they arrived home, she would throw a fit and threaten to claw his face so that people would finally realize there was more to him than his good looks.
All this the sheikh had uttered in a dispassionate tone, and it was this above all else which had squeezed her heart. She had found herself turning to him, and her heart crying out even more at the total absence of expression on his face – the beautiful face that his own mother should have cherished but had despised instead.
Had no one tried to stop her?
No one knew it was happening. I only made myself speak of it when she was dead, and only because by then I was old enough to understand that the truth would help prevent the same thing from happening.
He then told Anisah of how he had been torn between rebelling and desperately seeking for his mother’s approval. Tamara had liked to teach him about heroism, and in these so-called lessons, she would force him to do things. Lie. Cheat. Steal. He had even lost his virginity at his mother’s command; he had been thirteen then, and his mother had known heard about a powerful sheikh’s wife who liked her lovers quite...young.
Anisah was pale by the time the sheikh finished. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t—-”
“It wasn’t the last time I had to fuck for the kingdom.”
And now she felt sick.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds—-”
“La, alshaykh.” No, sheikh. Anisah’s voice shook. “I’m sure it’s much worse.”
“Worse, huh?” His lips twisted. “The worst part would be when I was seventeen. My mother told me I had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be of help to the kingdom. All I had to do was accept an open-ended apprenticeship under a sheikh who, at that time, had been one of the most powerful in our region.”
“Did s-she want you to learn how to kill under that sheikh?” It was the worst thing she could think of.
“Nothing so messy or complicated, anisdi. That was not Tamara’s style.” And seeing the confusion in her eyes, Tarif spelled out calmly, “She wanted me to do what I do best, but this time with a man. She wanted me to become the sheikh’s lover, and thus ensure the alliance between our kingdoms.”
Her heart splintered into pieces, and a soundless gasp escaped her parted lips.
“That was the last time we spoke. She died two months later.”
She tried to recall what she had read about the death of the sheikh’s mother. It had happened in another kingdom, then ruled by a sheikh who had been deposed a decade later because of a sex scandal.
Her eyes flew up to the sheikh in stunned horror.
“Nem, anisdi. He had her killed. He didn’t like how she had reneged on her promise.”
“Did your uncle – King Khalid – know?”
“He chose to let it go for diplomatic reasons.”
“And you?”
