And the sheikh found himself abruptly striding forward.
Meeting her halfway so he could haul her into his arms.
Maehdina, hamira.
I'm sorry, princess.
His arms tightened around her.
I'm so fucking sorry.
A STRANGE SENSE OF numbness enveloped Safiya as she found herself listening to the sheikh's words. He had taken her to that room again. The one where they had their first kiss.
And this room...
This room used to make her heart sing.
But now she felt nothing.
Even with the sheikh's voice turning tight with emotion as he sought her forgiveness.
I'm sorry, Safiya.
So fucking sorry.
She could feel the rawness of his regret. Could hear how much he despised himself for hurting her. But the moment he started to explain himself, she found herself suddenly withdrawing—-
"It's fine, Altair. You don't have to say anything else." But that, of course, was a lie.
"Safiya—-"
She cut him off rashly, her voice just as tight. "It's really fine." She saw the sheikh's jaw clench, but even as shame filled her, Safiya could not make herself take the words back.
She just did not want him to speak.
Could not risk hearing him speak.
Because the truth had finally hit her, and Safiya realized that the icy numbness coating her skin was nothing but fear.
She was afraid, plain and simple.
She was afraid that if she let him explain, there would truly no turning back by then—-
And she would be forced to let him go.
I'M SORRY, ALSHAYKH. But I'm not terribly feeling well at the moment.
It was the first time Altair knew with absolute certainty that the princess was lying to his face.
May we continue our conversation on another day?
That had been a week ago. He hadn't seen her since then, and Altair knew he had no one to blame himself. He had assumed that she wouldn't notice anything changing between them. Had gotten used to the princess going along with everything he wanted. He had taken her for granted, and while he was desperate to make things right—-
A part of him felt sick with fear at the thought that history could still repeat itself. Even though he knew things were different now, and that this time he had his brothers to help him protect his family if he did end up making the same mistake twice—-
The thought of baring his soul...
The thought of admitting once and for all that he was in too deep, and he could no longer imagine a life without Safiya—-
Those thoughts made him fucking sick with terror.
Fucking terrified him.
And yet—-
He knew he had no choice.
If he did not find a way to make things right, he risked losing Safiya for good.
SAFIYA WAS HAVING A hard time breathing. When Yara came personally to Mushriq to deliver the queen's invitation, she had been stunned at first, and then anxious. Since she knew of her father's involvement in the mob-led riot that had almost endangered the queen's life, she had never let herself hope that the king's wife would care to know or forgive her.
But somehow, the unthinkable had happened, and so here she was now, her knees quaking under the velvet skirts of her gown, and her heart was actually pounding for some other reason than Altair's presence.
So nervous and anxious was she that when her name was finally called to announce her entrance, and she had no choice but to allow her gaze to drift down to the crowd of guests—-
The first thing she saw was him.
Beloved.
Dressed in the formal uniform reserved only for the highest officers of the Ramilian army, the sheikh looked dazzling, dashing, and dangerous all at once, and though the sheer beauty of him made Safiya catch her breath—-
It was the way he gazed at her that made her forget, even for a while, that things were not entirely right between them.
In his dark eyes, she saw strength like no other, and just like that she was no longer afraid.
How could she be, when the way the sheikh was gazing at her told Safiya that his strength was for her and her alone to draw from?
Altair Al-Atassi, the kingdom's greatest hero, was telling her with his eyes that he was hers to command, and with such a man to slay her dragons—-
There was no chance, absolutely no chance that she could even feel the slightest bit afraid, and so the princess' eyes started to shine as she slowly descended the steps of the ballroom.
JAMILA. BEAUTIFUL. The words uttered over and over as the whole ballroom fell under the princess' spell. Her beauty had always been the type to take people's breaths away, but whereas her looks had left him cold in the past—-
It was different now.
This time, her beauty was such that it pierced him all the way to his soul, and even though he had yet to take his gaze off her, he knew that it was the same for just about everyone else.