One Choice

by Ginger Solomon

  She shook her head.

  “Look at me.” His tone allowed for no argument.

  Daring to lift her gaze to his, she stared straight into his eyes. She wanted to harden her heart, but the tenderness and caring she saw were more than she could handle. She closed her eyes.

  “Excuse me, please.” She walked out the door, closing it with a soft click. She leaned back against it, and tried to calm herself. Inhale. Exhale.

  Just then Anaya came from one of the other rooms. “What’s wrong, Cahri?”

  “I'm not sure I can do this. I thought I could, but it's more difficult than I thought being in the room with him all the time… touching him, caring for his needs. I've never been good at hiding my feelings. I've never felt this way towards anyone before and…” She stopped. “Did you hear that?” A moan came from the prince's room.

  She opened the door and rushed in. Anaya followed.

  “I figured it would work.” Pride at his accomplishment showed in his eyes. She glared at him then spun around and left the room, slamming the door. She trudged to the end of the hall and peered out the window. Why would he scare her?

  “Giving you a hard time, already, is he?” the king asked.

  “Your Highness.” Cahri bowed her head and sighed. “I'm sorry, I’ve let you down. I will make arrangements to leave.” It troubled her she couldn't even last a few hours.

  “No need for such drastic measures. My son will see his tactics were wrong. I’m sure his sister is tearing into him about his disregard for your feelings.”

  Cahri stiffened, wondering how the king could know what Anaya was doing.

  “It is hard to serve him and risk his rejection when you love him. Yes?”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder and then returned her gaze to the window. She didn't answer for a few minutes. How could he have known? Anaya. She had to have told him. The betrayal sliced through her heart.

  “Anaya told you?”

  “No, Anaya would never break your confidence. I am a perceptive man, Cahri. My wife is astute as well. We talked of you and agreed together you were the right one to care for Josiah because you love him.”

  Cahri started to protest, but he continued before she could.

  “There were several other offers of service, but having watched how you reacted at the banquet and then seeing you again this morning, we knew you were the right one. The others wanted the prestige of being the prince's sole caregiver, and hoped to become his wife. Your love for him is why we chose you because you were willing to serve him without the promise of more.” He hesitated as if he wasn't sure whether to go on. ”We have been watching you for some time.”

  “Watching me?” She quirked her head sideways. How could they watch her without her seeing them?

  “There are security cameras throughout the palace. We have been watching all of you since your arrival. Did you not notice when one of the women would disappear without a word? Several were caught in places they shouldn’t have been, though some we let return because they seemed to be lost in earnest. Others were caught in compromising situations.” The king stared past her out the window, seemingly distracted by a car horn in the distance.

  “I have watched you, more so than the others, as you wandered the halls, enjoyed the garden, and gazed at the portraits in the gallery. Matthias reported your restlessness the night of Josiah’s accident.” He faced her once more. “Why were you so unsettled last night?”

  “A bad dream.”

  He did not comment on her simple response for some minutes. Sweat beaded on her forehead in the uncomfortable silence.

  “About?”

  Cahri hesitated. Would he think her weird if she told him the truth? “The prince.”

  “It disturbed your sleep when you dreamed about my son?”

  She bit her lip and glanced at him. His eyes bore holes into her. “No, sir. I mean, yes, sir.” She inhaled. “It wasn’t disturbing because it was about the prince but because of what happened to him in my dream.”

  The king raised an eyebrow. So like the prince. She twisted away hoping to end the track of his questions.

  He obliged her by going back to the original point of his conversation.

  “We have also been watching you in your care of Josiah in the past couple of hours. Before you get the wrong idea, it was not for lack of trust in you, but because we wanted to see how you would react to Josiah's temper and sullenness. And how he would act with you. He is good about keeping it under control, but when he is ill or injured, he tends to have a harder time, as do we all. So far his temper hasn't shown itself to its fullest yet, but I think it's because you have a control over him he hasn't allowed anyone else to have, ever, not even his mother and me.”

  Cahri brow furrowed. “What do you wish of me, Your Highness?”

  The king chuckled. “You still do not understand, do you?”

  She swiveled and studied him and then lowered her eyes. “I'm sorry, my king, but no, I don't understand.”

  “Look at me, Cahri.”

  She raised her eyes to meet his.

  “You are so innocent and refreshing. The Bridal March wasn't just canceled because of Josiah's injury, although it did give us a good excuse. You have been chosen to be Josiah's wife.”

  “I… what?” She took a step backward and bumped into the wall.

  He chuckled again. “Does this surprise you?”

  “Yes. I… I…” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I thought to be here until he recovered and the Bridal March could be resumed or restarted. I assumed when he was well he would make his choice, and I would leave. I knew I could not be here and…” She spun back to the window. She didn't wish to bear her soul in its entirety.

  “You couldn’t be here and see him take a wife that wasn’t you.” He stated for her.

  She nodded.

  “That is why you are perfect for him. You are willing to give him up if it would make him happy.” He tugged on her elbow until she faced him again. His fingers touched her cheek. “We think you will make him happy.”

  “But… but… what does he think?” She stood still, unable to quiet her troubled soul. She loved Josiah, but did not want him to be stuck in a marriage not of his own choosing, which would be worse than loving him from afar.

  “You were already his choice, Cahri. I made him wait and test and consider everyone else. You have been his choice since he gave you his handkerchief the first week. I saw it then. He informed me some time ago and then again after the banquet. Still, I made him wait.”

  She remembered the first inspection when the prince had given her his handkerchief. The day she’d started falling in love with him. No, that had been at the grocery store before she'd known who he was. Heat crept into her face. She remembered the dance when he'd almost kissed her — the day she'd acknowledged her feelings. These memories convinced her of the truth of the king's words.

  She glanced at him. Be bold or be quiet? A deep breath. Bold. “When will I become his wife?”

  “Tonight.”

  She stared at him outright, eyes wide for a full minute. She lowered her head, “As you wish, Your Highness.” Her voice came out softer than a whisper.

  Another low chuckle sounded from the king. “Do you doubt my wisdom?”

  “No, Your Highness. Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect.” She curtsied and kept her eyes glued to the floor, ashamed of her of doubt.

  He touched her sleeve and then lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “You are forgiven. Do not doubt you are what Josiah needs and wants. God has brought you to us, and we are grateful. Trust Him, again, benim kýzým, my daughter. He loves you. Now go see to my willful son. He needs you now more than ever.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” She started back to the prince's room as thoughts tumbled around in her head. Most of them confused her.

  “Two more things, Cahri.”

  “Yes, my king?” She stopped and twisted around with her eyes lowered.


  “Make it three. One, when we are in our private quarters, you may call me Baba, as my children do, for you will soon be my daughter. Two, again, when we are in our private quarters, you do not have to keep your eyes lowered. Out in public you will address me as Your Highness or my King and never look Josiah or myself in the eyes, unless we request it. Are those two things clear to you?”

  “Yes, Your… um… Baba? And the third?”

  “Excellent. The third… you will wed my son before the evening meal. It is not good for you to be in the room with him alone, unwed, considering your affection for one another. We will have a formal wedding once he has recovered.” He glanced at his watch. “I'd say you have a little over two hours before you become Princess Cahri of Belikara.”

  “But… but…” Her face heated until it felt on fire. She wasn't prepared to be a wife. She knew how to cook and clean, but those things weren’t required of her here. Here she would be princess. She’d been learning how to act royal in public, but to be a wife… terror filled her. A terror she could not express.

  “Do you wish to ask something?” A small chuckle and a twinkle in his eye gave away his mirth.

  “I have nothing to wear.” She spoke the first thing that entered her mind — that could be spoken aloud to the king. She couldn’t tell him she didn’t know about that. A blush heated her cheeks once again.

  “It has been taken care of, Cahri. You must learn to trust more.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He turned and walked away from her. She stared at his back for a few seconds as she thought about being a princess and a wife. She walked toward Josiah's door. Did he know she would be his wife by the time the sun set?

  As she drew close to the door, which was ajar, she heard Anaya and Josiah talking. She only made out a few words, but she heard her name and the word for love. She couldn't make out any more, so she tapped on the door.

  “Enter,” Josiah said in his formal tone. “Ah, Cahri, we were just speaking about you.”

  “You were?”

  “Yes. Where have you been? I needed you and you left.” It sounded like his voice had a hint of humor in it, but she wasn't sure.

  “I'm sorry, my prince. What is it you need? I will do it for you now.” Shame filled her. She had left in a fit of temper and not fulfilled her duty to the prince. Being his wife would not be as easy as she'd hoped it would. He knew enough about her to manipulate her with ease, and it terrified her. What would he do with the information?

  He shot a look at Anaya, who nodded and left the room.

  “I am tired. Please help me to lie down.”

  “Yes, my prince.” She hurried to his side, and before she could assist him in lying down, he grabbed her with his good arm and pulled her close. She struggled, but his strength overpowered her.

  “Stop wiggling,” he said. She obeyed, scared of hurting him.

  “I… I… thought you wanted to lie down.” Her heart skipped a beat. His breath teased her skin with its touch.

  “I do, and you will help me in a moment. Anaya tells me you are to become my wife this evening.” A cocky glint lit his eyes.

  “So I have been told,” she replied, deadpan. She didn't know how she managed to spit the words out without betraying the myriad of feelings bouncing around inside her. The most disturbing were the fear and the elation, contradictory to one another, but there nonetheless.

  “You are not pleased?” he asked.

  She dropped her eyes.

  “No. You will look at me. I want to see the truth, for your eyes cannot lie to me.”

  She searched his eyes as much as he searched hers. Would he be a good husband? Her heart hammered in her chest. She was pleased, but scared.

  “Are you pleased, my prince?” she whispered.

  “Hmm… Am I pleased?” A grin unfurled on his face. “We will come back to that. My question first. Are you pleased?”

  She started to look away, but heard a negative grunt come from him.

  “I am shocked. I never expected to become your wife.” She focused on him, dared to touch his cheek. Rough. “Will you be a good husband?” She astonished herself at her boldness.

  He inhaled at her touch. “I will do my best.” He leaned into her hand, and closed his eyes. She rubbed her thumb along his cheek. His jaw tightened. “You have yet to answer my question. Do not keep me waiting. I am not a patient man, and I think my time in this bed is going to test what little patience I have.”

  “Yes, my prince, I am pleased to become your wife,” she whispered. She caressed his cheek once more then dropped her hand.

  He released her but told her to stay put. He reached past her to the table where there was a box she hadn't noticed before. He picked it up and handed it to her. “I had planned to do this differently, maybe out in the garden we both love. But we will have to make do. I’ll make it up to you later.” He cleared his throat and handed her the box. “Will you be my wife, Cahri?”

  He had planned… Did that mean even before his accident he was planning to make her his wife? The king said as much, but she had doubted him. Pushing the thought aside and without opening the box, because it didn't matter what he was giving her, she responded, “Yes, my prince.”

  “You will call me Josiah in private, understand?”

  Electric tongues of fire spread throughout her body from his gentle touch on her cheek. She shivered.

  “Yes.” She leaned into his fingers a bit. She found it amazing the arm which held her with such strength earlier could now be so gentle.

  “Open the box.” He let his hand fall back to the bed. His eyes drooped and his shoulders sagged.

  She opened the box. Inside sat a beautiful emerald-cut diamond flanked by two smaller square-cut diamonds in settings of white gold. A gasp escaped. Her knowledge about diamonds was limited, but even a novice could see that these were big and more than a little expensive. She glanced back at the prince.

  “Put it on. I would be too clumsy with only one arm to help you.”

  She obeyed.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It's beautiful.” The elegance of it overwhelmed her. She never imagined a ring like this in her little girl dreams.

  “It was my great-great grand-mere’s. She was from France. She wouldn’t let us call her grandmother. That is almost all I remember about her. She passed when I was five, leaving the ring to Jonathan to present to his bride.” He was silent for a few minutes. He breathed deeply as he tried to control his emotions. “When he died without taking a wife, it passed down to me.” He smiled. “And now I have the honor and privilege of presenting it to you.”

  He caressed her cheek again and lifted her face to look at him. Her cheeks flamed at the desire she saw flash in his eyes. His caress moved from her cheek to her neck and pulled her to him. Ever mindful of his injuries, she tried to resist, but he did not relent.

  “Kiss me, Cahri.” His voice sounded husky, and he still pulled her toward him.

  “I don't want to hurt you.” She continued to resist.

  “Please?” he whispered. He released the pressure he had on her neck. “I will not force you…” He paused, letting his eyes relay the message no words could.

  She relented, careful not to put any pressure on his ribs. Her lips touched his for just a moment, and a jolt of sensation rippled through her. While he had released the pressure earlier, he increased it now and pulled her to him again. This time she planted her hands on the pillow propped up against the headboard. She tried desperately not to hurt him, and yet fulfill his wish. Their lips touched again, and his hand tightened on her neck, pulling her closer still. The kiss deepened. Having never been kissed before, it did things to her… she didn't even have the words to describe the feeling. Electrifying. Sensational. Joyous.

  She pulled back. His touch overwhelmed her body. Her breath came out in little gasps and her heart pounded in her chest.

  “You need to rest.” She started at the huskiness of her own voice. “Lie down
and sleep for a while. Our wedding is in less than two hours.” She started to move away, but he grabbed her hand. She glanced back at him.

  “I can't wait to look upon you as a husband looks upon his wife, to see your hair down, to touch it, to have you as mine…”

  The further his speech went, the deeper the heat of the blush on her cheeks. Her knowledge about how a wife should treat her husband could fit in the folds of a rose bud. Her mom hadn’t talked about such things unless there'd been a reason. Now there was a reason, but not a mom. Tears stung her eyes.

  He tugged on her hand, “Cahri, do you know this is God's will for you?”

  “No.” She pulled her hand free of his and moved away. She needed a little space.

  After she collected herself, she helped him lie down. Just when she thought he slept, his eyes opened, and he gazed straight at her.

  “It is God's will for you and for me. I know you care for me. I can see it in your eyes, even when you try to hide it. I will take care of you.” His eyes closed again, and his breathing evened out.

  “But will you love me?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  What kind of husband would he be? What kind of wife would she be?

  Many brides-to-be have months to contemplate and discuss with their intended the future. Cahri’s intended slept and would do so until close to the time for the vows.

  It didn't matter. She didn't have a choice, not that she would make a different choice if she had one. She loved him, whether he would ever love her or not. Her anxiety did not come from her feelings. It came from the uncertainty of how to be a proper wife.

  She paced the room, wringing her hands. When she'd first come to the palace, the reality that she could at some point become his bride had assaulted her, but this was so quick. It had never occurred to her that she would be his choice — a redheaded, green-eyed American who had to work for her citizenship.

  She stared at the clock. After four. In less than two hours she would be married to a man she didn’t know all that well but loved more than she could have ever imagined.