by Maya Blake
Blushing fiercely, Niesha faced the crowd again. In unison, they waved, smiled, waved some more. All the while, her senses spun.
Her first kiss.
Was this how everyone felt? She was drowning in sensation, as if the whole world had tilted and taken a different course that would never be the same again. Because how could anything else compare to this?
She wasn’t a romantic. Childish, fairy-tale feelings had been beaten out of her by years of hard work and the reality that only a lucky few found their happily-ever-after, most of them in the books she treasured. She was old enough to accept that those foolish daydreams needed to be set aside the moment she closed the book.
So what she was experiencing now was nothing short of a daydream she needed to put behind her as soon as possible.
This was temporary. She was a stand-in.
Come tomorrow she’d be back in her beige uniform, fluffing pillows and refilling shampoo bottles in bathrooms in the east wing.
The thought froze the smile on her face, even as she continued to wave to the crowd.
After an excruciating half-hour, with one final wave, Zufar steered her away from the balcony. They re-entered the small anteroom serving as a holding place before, but that was now a path that led to the banqueting hall where the formal wedding reception was being held.
‘You did well,’ Zufar stated as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
Despite the tersely murmured statement, a bubble of warmth speared through the sizzling shock that hadn’t entirely left her.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, pleased that she hadn’t completely let him down.
‘Of course, you could do with smiling a little bit more,’ he added.
The bubble burst. ‘I can’t smile on command,’ she replied.
‘You are the Queen now. You have to learn how.’
‘But I am not, though, am I?’
‘That ring on your finger, my dear, is all the evidence you need.’
‘You know what I mean, Your Highness.’
‘Do I?’ Zufar murmured even as he nodded to a guest bowing as they passed.
‘Of course you do,’ Niesha muttered fiercely. Why was he pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about? ‘I’m not your Queen. This was temporary. You said so yourself.’
His body tensed, then a muscle rippled in his jaw. ‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he said.
A spurt of apprehension turned into full-blown alarm. ‘What is there to talk about, Your Highness?’
‘You calling me Your Highness, for starters. I’m your husband now. You are allowed to address me as Zufar.’
Her footsteps faltered. For as long as she could remember, he’d always been Sheikh Zufar, or Crown Prince Zufar. Not even in her dreams had she addressed him by his given name alone. It felt...huge. As if she were taking a leap into thin air. Niesha started to shake her head.
Somehow, she had to bring this back to reality, back under her control.
‘You also need to stop shaking your head at every little disagreement. As my new bride, you’re supposed to be glowing and blushing with happiness, not wearing an expression as if you’ve been led into the devil’s own playpen.’
‘You know why I am acting this way. I don’t know why you’re pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about. You said this was temporary.’
‘Did I?’
Her mouth parted in a stunned O.
‘Remember where you are,’ he warned. ‘Do you really think this is the right time for this discussion?’
She didn’t. And she couldn’t very well demand an explanation from the King. Not with guests in earshot, and not when they were entering the banqueting hall where attendants lined the walls in their dozens, ready to serve the first course the moment they sat down.
So she walked beside him as Zufar led her to the head of the table.
His white-gloved hand gripped hers tightly where it rested on his arm, as if he was fully intent on preventing her from fleeing.
As if she would. As if she could. She wouldn’t get very far, even on her own two feet. As he’d warned, there were guards posted everywhere in the palace. Did his warning still apply even now that they’d exchanged their vows? Most likely. But she couldn’t think about that. All she wanted at this moment was for everything to be done so she could disappear into her little corner of the world and put this behind her. But he was looking at her in that way again as the guests crowded in.
The way he’d looked at her on the balcony in the moments before he’d kissed her. It was all still an act, Niesha knew. But that tiny fluttering reignited under her skin and grew into huge, wild butterflies demanding freedom.
When the room was half filled, he pulled out her chair and waited until she sat down. He remained standing, his gaze on the crowd who stood as protocol demanded, beside their seats.
Zufar’s gaze effortlessly commanded their attention. ‘Many of you are wondering about the turn of events today. You will have to keep wondering.’ A smattering of laughter echoed through the crowd but eyes slid to where she sat, probing her every expression in the hope of accessing juicy gossip. It took every ounce of composure she didn’t know she possessed to maintain a serene expression as Zufar continued, ‘All you need to know is that I’ve made my choice, and I am extremely happy with it.’
Her pulse jumped as he redirected his gaze to her again, his eyes gleaming for a moment before he straightened. ‘Now you will do me the honour of acknowledging and accepting Niesha al Khalia as my bride and your Queen.’
Thunderous applause echoed down the banqueting table. Then they took their seats and the formal reception began.
Niesha only managed to pick at a few mouthfuls of the twelve-course dinner. Aside from a few sidelong glances, Zufar didn’t question her lack of appetite. She supposed it could all be slotted under the general heading of wedding nerves, even after the fact.
And almost as if he’d instituted an invisible no-fly zone around her, no one approached her even to offer congratulations.
When Galila breached the barrier, Zufar shot her a warning look.
She rolled her eyes but didn’t make any more comments except to lean down and brush a kiss across Niesha’s cheek. ‘You and I will need to have a spa day very soon,’ she whispered in Niesha’s ear before straightening and walking away.
‘What did she say?’ Zufar asked.
‘She wants a spa day with me, I think,’ Niesha responded a little dazedly.
‘Hmm, I believe that is code for something else entirely.’
Surprise rounded her eyes. ‘What?’
‘Curiosity is my sister’s middle name. I will caution you to be careful around her. She has a way of prying out information that would make my own intelligence department proud.’
She reached for the crystal water glass, aware that her fingers hadn’t stopped shaking. ‘Well, you don’t need to worry about that, do you? By the time we get around to the possibility of such a day, I’ll no longer be your wife.’
For some reason her response made his features tighten. Did he not wish to hear the truth? She opened her mouth to voice the thought but he beat her to it.
‘This is our wedding day. Let us endeavour to enjoy at least some of it and not give everything a sour note, shall we?’
She frowned, then quickly smoothed out her features, aware that she was still the cynosure of all eyes. ‘It’s not our wedding day. Not really. Is it?’ she pressed, intent on making him acknowledge the transient nature of what had happened today.
It was that or... The alternative was unthinkable. No, not exactly unthinkable, but impossible for someone like her. A nobody who’d left such foolish dreams beneath the dreary pillows in her lonely orphanage bed.
‘Think of it as an elaborate party then, if you must,’ he bit out quietly. �
�Whatever it is, I wish to enjoy at least some of it for the sake of appearances. Is that okay with you?’
Was he really asking her that when he’d all but dragged her to the altar? But the anger she wanted to summon didn’t materialise. Not when she knew the true meaning behind his actions.
He’d done it for his people. So had she. She owed it to the royal family and to every citizen in Khalia not to sustain that anger. She didn’t need to be in his shoes to understand it took guts to take such chaos as had been thrown at him only a few hours ago, a situation that would’ve left other men quaking in their boots, and turn it into a triumph.
Proving once again why he was such an effective, awe-inspiring monarch.
One who had demanded a sacrifice she couldn’t in good conscience fault him for. Right in this moment, Niesha couldn’t find it in her heart to begrudge the people of Khalia, who had endured the death of their Queen, and seen the kingdom plunged into uncertainty after the abdication of the King.
‘Of course, if that’s what you wish,’ she murmured softly.
His eyes gleamed in that suspicious way again, as if he were divining her thoughts way better than she could. It made her extremely nervous. Niesha attempted to look away, but found herself hypnotised by the gold flecks in his tawny eyes.
‘That is what I wish,’ he reiterated in deep, low tones. ‘Now you will smile, and nod, and pretend that this is the happiest day of your life.’
For some insane reason, that command wasn’t difficult to obey.
When the corners of his mouth lifted, Niesha found herself following suit. His gaze dropped to her lips, and stayed there for an infinitesimal second, before he lifted his gaze back to hers.
‘Much better,’ he drawled. ‘I will push my luck and request that you eat more than the few mouthfuls you have consumed so far. If the food does not suit, you only need to say and I will instruct a new dish to be brought to you.’
Her eyes widened. What would her peers—the servants—think if she made such a request? She cringed. ‘No, that will not be necessary.’
‘I do not do it out of necessity. I do it because you are my Queen and what you wish goes.’
What she wished right now was for him to stop referring to her as the Queen or his Queen. It would be better all round that way. Safer, even. The last thing she wanted was to start believing, even for a second that this temporary role was in any way real. She needed to maintain the distance to ensure she left this nightmare with her faculties intact. ‘This is fine, I’m sure,’ she insisted firmly.
Zufar nodded, and turned to speak to his brother, who sat to his left. The sudden bereft sensation that assailed her took Niesha by complete surprise. It took a few precious seconds to master her composure, after which she lifted her gaze to the guest seated closest by. But that chair was empty, vacated by Galila a few moments ago.
She was about to turn away, but her attention was snagged by Zufar’s uncle, the same one who’d attempted to pry information from Zufar earlier. Niesha attempted a smile. He returned it with a speculative gaze, his eyes darting from Zufar and back again.
‘You must come to dinner when you return from your honeymoon.’
Honeymoon?
She tried to master the shock that bolted through her.
Of course the King and Queen were expected to go on their honeymoon. She had no clue where Zufar had intended to take Amira. Was she supposed to know of the destination for her own honeymoon?
‘I...I...’ she stuttered. A moment later, a warm hand covered hers, the gentle but insistent pressure on her fingers applying subtle warning.
‘We’ll be happy to accept your invitation, Uncle, on our return. Providing of course that our schedules allow,’ Zufar slid in smoothly, proving that even though he’d been in conversation with his brother, he had been fully tuned into what was happening with her.
Was he that terrified she would bungle the ruse? A spark of irritation lit up beneath her skin. When she attempted to withdraw her hand from under his, he held on firmly, turning his imperious head to look at her with what everyone else would have assumed was an adoring look from a groom to his new bride. But she saw the warning clear in his eyes. Behave.
She lowered her head under the guise of forking another bite of her superb sea bass. But she never lifted it to her lips, because she feared she would choke if she attempted to swallow.
‘Where’s the honeymoon destination?’ the woman seated next to Zufar’s uncle asked.
‘We will spend a few days in the Emerald Palace, and then I will take my bride on a multi-national tour, ending in the most romantic capital of the world, of course,’ Zufar said.
‘Oh, you mean Paris, don’t you? I love Paris,’ his aunt exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. ‘I haven’t been in months.’
‘And there’s a reason for that,’ his uncle said dryly. ‘My bank account screams in agony whenever you’re in the French capital.’
Laughter greeted the response. Amid it all, Niesha noticed Zufar watching her with that same pseudo-adoring, warning look. When his uncle turned away to address another guest, she tried to withdraw her hand once again.
Even though her irritation had faded, a new sensation had taken root at his touch. He no longer wore his gloves, making the sensation even more searing. The burst of relief poured through her when he didn’t restrain her. She dropped her hand into her lap, her fingers curling into her palm as her blood sang wildly.
Realising that he was still staring at her, she pinned that smile on her face again, and returned his look. ‘You don’t need to keep watching me like a hawk, you know. I’m not about to announce to the whole world what is happening here.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, but since we did not discuss a honeymoon, I thought it best to step in. Surely you don’t have an objection to that?’ he murmured testily.
‘But what will they say when they find out that it’s not true?’ she said tightly.
The taut little smile he gave her reproached her for being foolish. ‘That will not happen, little one, because it’s true. We are going on honeymoon.’
* * *
Zafar had never met anyone who blushed with such frequency as his new bride. Or trembled as much. He was stunned she hadn’t collapsed into a heap of nerves thus far. His earlier summation that she was as skittish as one of his mares couldn’t be more accurate. Even now, as they took their first dance, he sensed she was moments from tugging out of his hold and fleeing across the ballroom.
But just like before, right when he thought she would succumb to her nerves, she straightened her slender spine, raised that delicate little chin, and speared him with a look of such defiance it almost made him smile.
Almost.
Because this was no laughing matter. He had taken a complete stranger as his Queen. Granted, Amira had been little more than an acquaintance despite the arrangement to marry, but this was...unprecedented.
Just like that kiss on the balcony...
He clenched his gut as the memory drew another strange zing through his bloodstream. It had just been a kiss, nothing more. So why was the unique sensation lingering, luring him into wishing to experience it again? He wouldn’t, of course.
This whole near disaster had him on edge. The adrenaline high of salvaging a situation that could’ve exploded in his face was what had blown that kiss out of proportion.
But it was time to wrestle everything back under control.
Despite the press release holding at bay the dozens of questions he was sure were coming his way, his people would need definitive answers by morning.
He’d barely been able to stop Amira’s father from detonating the whole event even before it’d started. The man was rightly in search of answers for his daughter’s whereabouts and bewildered at the news that Amira had jilted the man she was supposed to marry. Only by asserting his full authority had
Zufar stopped his father’s best friend from causing a scene. Feroz had finally realised Zufar was the wronged party and agreed to return home to await further news.
Zufar resisted the urge to grit his teeth at the thought of his half-brother’s actions.
He had set his best investigators on the case to satisfy himself that Amira hadn’t been taken against her will, but instinctively he knew she hadn’t been abducted. In fact, in hindsight, Amira’s lacklustre interaction with him lately was revelatory.
That sliver of relief slid through him again, this time arriving with a cold acceptance that perhaps he’d dodged a bullet that could’ve seen history repeating itself. Because a wife that could’ve so easily been seduced by another man, as his mother had been, was one he didn’t want. Maybe his half-brother had done him a favour. Had even unwittingly ensured Zufar wasn’t distracted from his duty and responsibility the way his father’s preoccupation with his mother’s infidelity had made him?
His teeth met in jaw-clenching grit. He wasn’t so forgiving as to brush away the fact that Adir had done this today to extract maximum humiliation—
‘Perhaps you should take your own advice, Your Highness,’ his new bride stated softly.
He redirected his gaze to hers. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You want me to smile and not give the game away but you should see your face right now,’ she said.
‘And what does my face say?’
‘That you are terribly displeased by something. Of course, I’m sure I don’t need to guess what it is. You think you will find her soon?’ she asked.
He pushed his irritation away. ‘I don’t wish to talk about Amira.’ Further thought of his half-brother was not welcome. Moreover, Zufar found he was much more interested in the woman he held in his arms.
For the purposes of keeping in character, of course.
Because Niesha was right. He was at risk of giving the game away. He schooled his features as he continued to look down at her. As he did so, he noticed the changes in her.