“I don’t need to meet her,” he said flatly. “Just make sure she understands this is a political marriage, nothing more.”
“Of course, sire. I will tell her.” Akmal paused delicately. “Although of course there must be children….”
Kareef looked down at his plate and saw that it was empty. Somehow, without tasting any of his food, he’d gotten it all down. The thought made him grimly glad. He would survive. At least his body would, and that was all that was required, wasn’t it?
“Ready?” His brother Rafiq entered the breakfast room.
“Is Tahir here?”
“No sign of him.”
“Right.” Why was he not surprised? Of course his youngest brother had changed his mind about coming home, promise or no promise. Kareef thought of his own optimism and joy a few days ago and felt like the exact same fool Jasmine claimed him to be.
Rising slowly to his feet, Kareef followed his brother down the long hall. But as he went outside the door and into the courtyard overlooking the cliffs above the Mediterranean, he heard someone scream his name. One sweet voice above the rest. A ghost from a long-forgotten dream.
But he kept walking. He didn’t even turn his head.
Then Kareef heard it again. He stopped.
“Did you hear that?”
“I heard nothing,” the vizier said nervously, then tried to sweep them forward. “This way, if you please, sire. You don’t wish to be late….”
Kareef took another few steps. Above the roar of the common crowd that had gathered to watch the coronation from outside the palace gates, he heard her voice again. Screaming his name desperately. He took a long, haggard breath.
“I must be losing my mind….” Kareef whispered. “I keep imagining I hear her.”
“Who? Jasmine?” Rafiq said. “She’s right there.”
Kareef whirled sharply. And there, on the other side of the palace gate, surrounded by shoving, cheering crowds, he saw her.
He whirled back to the vizier. “Get her in here!” he thundered.
“Sire,” Akmal Al’Sayr begged, “please. She’s been trying to get in all night but I’ve done my best to keep her out. For the good of the country you must consider…”
With a gasp, Kareef grabbed the older man by the neck. Then, with a shuddering breath, he regained control.
“Bring her to me,” he ordered between his teeth. Terrified, his vizier gave the frantic order to the guards. A moment later, Jasmine was inside the gate.
She ran straight to his arms. She was dressed in a simple red cotton smock and sandals, her dark hair loose and flying behind her.
“Jasmine,” he breathed, holding her against his chest. Half the world’s leaders were waiting to see him crowned king, and yet he could not let her go. He pulled her back inside the royal garden, to a private spot behind stone walls.
“It was a lie,” she gasped out with a sob. “I said those horrible things because I thought I had to push you away. I don’t blame you for the accident. Forgive me,” she whispered. “I thought I had no choice.”
His eyes fell upon the emerald hanging on a gold chain around her neck. Then he saw her left hand…was bare!
“Did you marry him, Jasmine?” he asked, his heart in his throat.
She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t do it. I know we can never be together, Kareef, but I couldn’t leave Qusay without telling you the truth. I love you. I always have, and I always will.”
With a shuddering intake of breath, Kareef held her against his chest, holding her tight as he closed his eyes, turning his face to the sun. A warm breeze swirled against his white robes, against his skin.
And for the first time since yesterday, he felt himself live again. Felt his blood rushing back through his veins. Felt air fill his lungs with every breath. Jasmine loved him.
“You had to know,” she whispered. “I had to tell you. I couldn’t leave with that lie.”
“Leave?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Where are you going?”
“To New York.” She gave a small laugh. “To start a new life. My new old life. And it’s where,” she said softly, “the king of Qusay will always have someone who loves him from afar. I will never forget you. Never stop loving you. Even after you take a wife—”
He stopped her with a kiss. And when he felt her lips against his—her soul against his own, so sweet and strong—he knew what he had to do.
Kareef would honor the vow he’d made long ago. He would hold true to his deepest obligation.
Taking her hand in his own, he led her out of the royal garden. His brother Rafiq was waiting patiently on the other side of the courtyard. Kareef felt a pang, then hardened his heart. It was the right choice. The only choice. Ancient honor demanded it of him, honor deeper than bloodlines. This promise superseded any other.