Arranged: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella

by Lexi Blake

  His mother’s eyes softened, a sheen of tears forming. “Oh, my darling, how can you say that? Your father played with you many times when you were young. Look through the pictures I keep. Go and get them. They’re in a box in the bottom of the dresser.”

  He started to argue with her, that she needed rest, but he could see how desperate she was so he strode to her dresser like a dutiful son. He needed to smile and tell her everything was all right because she was sick and his own misery would only bring more to her. He needed to agree that his childhood was beautiful and everything was perfect.

  He’d seen the pictures of his childhood. They were mostly taken by state photographers and again, they’d been interested in Shray. Kash hadn’t minded because the thought of sitting still had been mind-numbing at the time. He opened the bottom drawer and found a metal box. He pulled it out and turned back to his mother.

  He rushed back because she was struggling to sit up. “Mother, stop.”

  She frowned up at him. “I will stop when I am dead, and as that might be soon, you will leave me to make the decisions. There’s a proper queen now. I can become the old bat who says and does whatever she likes. You see, you thought I brought in Dayita for you, but it was really for me. Where is she?”

  “She was exhausted. She didn’t sleep at all on the plane. I put her in bed about an hour ago.” Likely because she was worried about everything, because he was giving her hell and causing her to question their marriage because he couldn’t bring himself to bend even a little.

  Are you ashamed of how I make you feel?

  He could still hear the question, hear the small tremor in her voice. Day was always so steady, so strong, and yet in that moment, she’d sounded small.

  He’d made her small.

  His mother shifted on the bed, leaving a space for him. “Good, she needs her rest. Now come and let me show you. It’s easy to forget, you know.”

  He sat down next to her. “Forget what?”

  “That the truth of our lives changes given our perceptions. That time and experience can make things hazy. You weren’t in a good place with your father when he died. I think that colored everything about your relationship with him. I can’t let that go on, Kashmir.”

  He huffed, forgetting for a moment that he’d promised to be good. “So you think some photos you kept will change my perception of my childhood?”

  “This isn’t my box, love. This was your father’s. This was precious to him.”

  Kash looked down at the rather plain metal box. It was the kind of thing people kept important papers in, sturdy and weatherproof. It had a piece of tape on the top with a single word written in neat, masculine script.

  Kashmir.

  He touched the box. “Why would he have a box with my name on it?”

  “Open it and find out,” she urged. “After he died, I found both of your boxes, yours and Shray’s. For a long time it was hard for me to think about Shray’s, but recently, I’ve enjoyed going through it and remembering how close our family was. This is what you’ve forgotten, what you have to remember before you have children of your own. He loved you.”

  He hated the fine tremble to his hand as he opened the box.

  Inside he found a mass of photos, but not the kind taken by the press. These were personal pictures taken by an amateur hand, pictures of himself and Shray smiling in the surf, their faces splashed with the waves, of himself as a giggling baby held in his mother’s arms, of his toddler self hiding beneath his father’s ornate desk. In that photo he was grinning ear to ear and reaching up to whoever was taking the photo. This wasn’t the picture of a child afraid to interrupt his father’s work. This child knew he was the center of the world.

  He took a deep breath, the sweetness of his childhood washing over him. Had he forgotten? He’d run through the palace like a little monster, and eventually he would be scooped up in strong arms and tossed into the air, giggling and begging for more.

  He could feel it, feel how he’d flown up, the thrill rushing through him. He’d put his arms out and tried to fly, and never once had he thought about falling because his father was there to catch him.

  His father. He would scoop him up and take him to the kitchens for coconut ice cream.

  “Why did he stop coming to the beach with us? Why did he take Shray and forget about me?” Though it was easy to see he hadn’t really. While the pictures seemed to stop around the time he was thirteen or fourteen, they were replaced with newspaper articles and report cards. There was a birthday card Kash had made tucked inside.

  His mother’s hand came out, so frail and delicate on his own. “When you were almost fourteen, your father was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. He was taking some medication that made it unwise for him to spend too much time in the sun.”

  Kash felt like the world had shifted. “What? Father had Parkinson’s?”

  His mother nodded. “Yes. In the beginning he worried he would die very soon or be incapacitated. He needed to get Shray ready. He didn’t want you to worry. He wanted you to enjoy your childhood. He always told me that he was lucky you were his second son and not his first.”

  “Because he thought I would be a terrible king.”

  “No, because you were so smart, so brilliant when it came to science. He was so proud of you. He said a mind like yours shouldn’t be wasted on politics. He said a mind like yours could change the world, and that was so much more important than being a king.” Her hand gripped his, holding him. “He was worried during those years. He thought if the parliament found out about his diagnosis, they might seek to abolish the monarchy on the grounds that his heirs were too young. I remember he would remind himself that a king must be strong.”

  He couldn’t help it a moment longer. The world was a blurry place and yet he finally understood. His father hadn’t been talking about him. Or perhaps at times he had been. Perhaps it didn’t matter that his father had been a king. All that had mattered was he’d been an obnoxious teen, and they would have clashed no matter what.

  What mattered was that his father had loved him, that his father had believed in him, that his father had been more than a king. He’d been a man.

  A man with flaws and fears.

  A man with love and regrets.

  A man who could love his wife and children and make mistakes. He could follow in his father’s footsteps and have a life filled with loved ones, with a woman who knew him as more than a king. A woman who loved him because he was her husband.

  And maybe, just maybe, if Kash was brave enough, he could be a man who changed the world.

  He leaned into his mother, holding her gently. “I’m sorry for staying away for so long. I’m sorry I didn’t remember.”

  “He wouldn’t let you see. I argued that he should tell you,” she whispered. “But he wanted you to have as normal a life as you could. He saw how it aged your brother. He couldn’t do it to you. And I was so lost after he died that I kept his secrets. You should know that I left you a letter detailing all of this in case I died. You have to know that the illness might be hereditary, though the likelihood is still low. You’ll have to watch your health carefully as you get older. Your father was significantly older than me. He was sixty when he was diagnosed.”

  “Hush, we don’t have to talk about that now.” He wasn’t going to worry about something that might or might not happen. He needed to focus on the now. Every family had something in their medical histories to worry about.

  His mother looked up at him. “I don’t want us to end the same way, with you angry with me. I made these mistakes, but I love you. I love you and I ask you to forgive me.”

  He shook his head. “There is nothing to forgive. Nothing, Mother. I love you. And things will be different now because I love my wife. I think I’ve always loved her but I was afraid to show it. I’m not going to be afraid anymore.”

  He made the choices. And if anyone found out that he liked to submit to his gorgeous, dominant wife, well, they
could go to hell because they didn’t understand what a woman like Day could do to a man.

  No one got a say in his marriage except him and his wife.

  He held his mother, the truth of his life sinking in and finally filling a place that had seemed hollow. “I don’t want you to die. I command that you not die.”

  His mother smiled up at him. “Give me something to live for. You know I’ll hold on for a grandchild.”

  He sighed.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve screwed up so much with Day, I fear she won’t forgive me, Mother.”

  Her hand slid over his. “Tell me.”

  He grimaced. “Much of it is sexual, Mother.”

  “Well, of course it is. It’s you. You know, Kashmir, the one thing I thought you would get right was the sex stuff.”

  “Well, didn’t I prove you wrong?” Perhaps his mother could help. She’d already given him the perfect woman. Now it was up to him to figure out how to keep her. “I think I’ve messed up with Day.”

  “Of course you have. You’re a man. You can’t help yourself. Tell me what’s going on.”

  According to Day, it wasn’t like she didn’t already know. He was about to tell her everything when there was a loud shout from the hallway.

  Startled, he slid from the bed. “Wait here, Mother. I’ll be right back.”

  “Kash, you fucking bastard!”

  That was a familiar voice. Weston had gotten Rai out quickly. Kash stepped out into the hallway where Rai was straining against the much larger Boomer. It was good to see Rai couldn’t do everything. His best friend often seemed far too competent to be believed, too fit and perfect. Now he looked silly because Mr. Boomer had put a hand on his head and easily held him at arm’s length.

  “Uh, he wanted to go in without an appointment,” Boomer said. If holding back the other man was any strain on him at all, it didn’t show. “Si told me no one sees the queen momma without an appointment. Now, he didn’t leave me an appointment book or anything, so I think what he was trying to tell me was that the queen momma needs her sleep and no one should see her except her son. I don’t think he’s her son.”

  While he found Mr. Boomer quite charming, he didn’t want to piss off Rai any further. “It’s fine. Please let him go so we can handle this here and now. And, Mr. Boomer, if he does hit me, let him. Unless he goes for my face. My face really belongs to the whole country, so you need to protect that.”

  Boomer moved his hand and Rai nearly fell to his knees.

  “Damn you, Kash,” he began.

  “I would have thought letting you out of jail because I know, despite all evidence, that you would never harm me might put you in a better mood.”

  Rai shook his head. “Not mad at you. Need to tell you. It was never you he was after. I figured it all out a few minutes ago. It’s Hanin. He wants to kill Day. He was always after Day.”

  Fear flashed through Kash and he took off running for his room.

  Nothing mattered if Day wasn’t alive. Nothing at all.

  * * * *

  Day came awake to the sound of a door creaking open. She sat up, her head still cloudy from sleep. She glanced at the clock, the digital light shining, and realized her head was actually cloudy from lack of sleep. She remembered falling asleep in the car after the plane had landed. That had been a little over an hour and a half before.

  She glanced around and realized she wasn’t in her room. Her suite was done up in light, airy colors, and this place was a darkened tomb.

  Kash’s room. Had he brought her here? She suspected so.

  She yawned and forced her body to move. Something was going on in the outer room of the suite.

  She sat straight up in bed as her brain started to function, remembering exactly why they’d made that ridiculously long flight.

  Her mother-in-law. Her sweet, lovely mother-in-law had taken a bad turn and they’d needed to get home in time to potentially say good-bye to her.

  Day’s heart constricted. How would Kash handle losing his mother? He tended to shut down when things got too emotional. He’d been alone for so long and here she was sleeping while he was facing one of the hardest moments of his life.

  Some partner she’d turned out to be.

  She scrambled to get out of bed. How far was it to the hospital?

  She moved to the doors that led to the outer rooms of the suite, opening them and finding the cause of the noise she’d heard previously. A group of neatly dressed servants were busy setting breakfast up on the table in the living area. It was the table where she and Kash typically shared their morning. Michael Malone stood inside the door, dressed in an all-black suit, an earpiece in his left ear. He nodded her way.

  So she had her guard back. They’d been much more subtle at Sanctum. She’d barely seen them, though she’d known they were there. Now that she was home, there would always be a guard on her door.

  How much longer would she be here at the palace? How much longer would she have this family?

  “Coffee, Your Majesty?” one of the maids asked.

  Day sought her name. She was trying to learn them all because they were important to the family and needed to know they weren’t mere cogs in the wheel. “Elissa, yes, please, but could you put it in a cup to go? I need to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.”

  “Why would you need to go to the hospital?” The lord chamberlain walked into the room, looking resplendent in his three-piece suit. “Is your majesty ill?”

  She shook her head because all the servants had stopped as though the thought of her being sick was beyond what they could handle. “No. I’m fine. I need to go and see the queen mother. I assume that’s where my husband is. I need to go and be with him. Can someone update me on how she’s doing?”

  Hanin shook his head, his eyes on her. “Now, now, Your Majesty. I can update you. You know how I adore the queen mother. I’ve worked for her and her family all of my life. I apparently overreacted. I was in a panic when I contacted the Americans to bring his majesty home to see her. I’m so sorry. At the time I truly thought she could die on us.”

  “And now?”

  He moved across the room, picking up the silver server and pouring her coffee with an expert hand. “She’s recovering in her room. Queen Yasmine is one of the strongest women I know. It’s from her breeding, you know. She comes from a good family. That’s important.”

  Relief spilled through her. The thought of losing Yasmine had nearly crushed her, and what it would have done to Kash… She didn’t want to think on it. “I’m glad she’s all right. Is my husband with her?”

  “Of course.” Hanin brought the delicate china cup to her. “Have something to eat, Your Majesty. When I saw them last, they were having a lovely conversation. There’s nothing at all for you to worry about. After you’ve had some fortification, I’ll take you down to her room myself.”

  Her hands were shaking. How long had it been since she’d eaten? She walked over to the table and set the coffee cup and its saucer down. Her stomach was a little touchy. Perhaps pouring acidic coffee on it first thing wasn’t the best play.

  “Elissa, do we have any tea? I think coffee might upset my stomach today. And perhaps some toast. All this looks lovely, but I need something simple. It was a long flight and I think all the stress is wearing on me.”

  Elissa nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty. The lord chamberlain didn’t order tea for you, but I can pop down to the kitchen and be back in no time at all.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced up to see Hanin frowning. Naturally she’d upset him. The lord chamberlain seemed to take offense easily. Kash had talked about pensioning the older man off when his mother was no longer with them, and Day was starting to agree with him. It was obvious the man had deep ties to Yasmine, but he didn’t seem to like the younger royals much. When the time came, she intended to ask Chapal’s husband, Ben, to take the role. He would have the palace running in a proper and modern fashion. Until then, she needed
to get along with Hanin. “Thank you so much for the update and for this lovely spread. It’s all beautiful, but it’s too much for me this morning. I’ll have a spot of tea and go join my husband.”

  They’d barely talked on the plane. Kash had sat in his seat, a beer in one hand, while he’d stared out at the night sky even as it had turned into day. She’d tried to sleep, but couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened.

  Was he ashamed? She couldn’t overcome shame. She could handle him being shy, needing to go slow. She couldn’t handle being his dirty secret.

  “Your Majesty?”

  She glanced up and Hanin was still standing in the room. The other servants had all gone, but he had stayed behind. “Yes?”

  He glanced back to where Malone stood. “Might I speak to you privately, Your Majesty? It’s palace business and I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

  She couldn’t think of what he needed from her that her guard couldn’t hear, but she wasn’t going to argue with him. He ran the palace and there were certainly plenty of secrets to be kept. She nodded. With her mother-in-law out of commission, she was in charge. “Of course. Mr. Malone, would you mind?”

  “I’ll be right outside. I’ll knock when Elissa gets back and after you’ve eaten, I’ll escort you to Queen Yasmine. She asked about you earlier.” He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

  “Are you sure you won’t have some coffee? I can get you some cream and sugar, if you like,” Hanin said, his hand on the ornate silver pot.

  She shook her head. Tea sounded so much better. “No, but thank you.”

  “You don’t mind if I pour some for myself, do you?” He was already reaching out for another cup.

  “Feel free. Now, what is the problem, Hanin?”

  He was silent while he poured the steaming hot coffee. When he turned around there was a frown on his face. “The problem is one of perception. I’m worried that when certain stories come out, and they will eventually, your past will bring down the royal family.”

  She stilled because the whole room seemed to chill. “What are you talking about?”