The Torn Prince

by Zee Monodee

  Chapter Eleven

  “Rio!” Zediah banged on the door. “Please talk to me.”

  When no sound except her muffled crying reached his ears, he slammed his fist on the panel again, this time in anger.

  He should have run after her when she’d left the red room. But upon hearing his father’s words, the anxiety attack he’d been keeping at bay ever since he’d set foot on the palatial grounds had gotten the better of him.

  His vision had tunnelled and almost going black. He’d believed he would indeed lose consciousness this time as his tongue grew and wouldn’t yield to any command, his lungs burning while his trachea closed.

  He’d stood there frozen, rooted to the spot, unaware until the door panels slammed that someone had run from the room.

  Rio. She’d heard his father’s order and hadn’t been able to take it.

  Of course, she wouldn’t. The man had been asking her to share her husband with another woman. Even if he and Bilkiss went into a marriage of convenience and never touched each other, Rio would still not be known as his first wife. She would be the other, second woman. Many still believed that of Queen Sapphire. And after what Gary had put her through, this would definitely have broken her.

  The heated argument taking place in the room between Isha and his mother, Queen Zulekha, had brought him back to the moment as his breath had steadied. He’d managed to stave off the darkness closing in on him.

  Getting his legs to work, though, had been a whole other matter. It had taken minutes to be able to tear his feet from the ground, minutes during which a battle with lines drawn in the sand with words had established itself around him.

  “You can’t expect them to go ahead with this farce,” Isha was saying.

  “It’s for the greater good,” the queen replied.

  “My loves,” the king said with raised hands to try and settle them down. “This is only for now if Zediah and Bilkiss, and Riona, accept it. In eighteen months, a quiet divorce can be ratified, and they all go their separate ways. By this time, the contentious points with Barakat would have been smoothed out.”

  “Seriously, Dad?” Isha’s eyes were almost boggling out of her face.

  Zediah threw a look at his brothers. Zareb seemed furious, and Zawadi and Zik had dark scowls on their faces. He was only just beginning to piece together the ramifications of the plan his father proposed.

  Eighteen months? He knew Rio—she would never settle for being a second wife. Her man should be with her and her alone, in name, body, heart, and soul. He agreed entirely with this, too. Would she wait for him, though?

  He’d put the crown before her once and look where it had brought them. A stroke of luck had made him discover he had a son, and he’d already missed her entire pregnancy and nine months of his child’s life. In eighteen months, Nour would already be two years old. A toddler who would be walking and running everywhere, with an extensive vocabulary and the ability to kick a ball around with his dad, to make his opinions known when they made music together.

  “I’m not spending all this time away from my son,” he bit out.

  Everyone turned to him as if they’d forgotten he still stood in their midst while they all discussed his life like he wasn’t there.

  “You don’t have to,” the queen replied. “He will be right here.”

  Anger rose inside him as he turned to her. “What about his mother?”

  Queen Zulekha shrugged. “She can leave any time she wants if these terms don’t suit her.”

  “They don’t suit me,” he said quietly.

  Across the room, his brothers all straightened, their gazes panning onto him. Even Isha had gone mum and stared at him agog now.

  What? What had he done to garner such shock?

  “Zediah,” his mother sighed. “This is not about you—”

  “Damn right it is.”

  Silence descended on the room at the cold, quiet confidence that had rung in his tone.

  Enough of this nonsense. This was the twenty-first century. It should be possible to settle political matters and territorial tiffs over a diplomatic table or some other trade agreement or charter. Arranged marriages should no longer be the only way to go. Maybe, as a last recourse, but had they even explored any other avenues of settling this dispute with Barakat? Hell no. It’d been expected he would meekly nod and step in as the groom on the day of this marriage slash political agreement.

  There’d been a time when he would have. But not anymore. Not after knowing he had a son with a woman he adored and who loved him in return and having seen first-hand what life with them in it could look like.

  Never would he relinquish that.

  Reckoning this made Zediah stand straighter and throw his shoulders back. He turned to his parents and steeled his spine.

  “If she leaves, I’m going with her … never to return again. I don’t care if you disown me or publicly renege me as your son. None of it matters. Not if I don’t have Rio and Nour.”

  “Zediah!” the queen gasped.

  She would not play the blame game with him. His nostrils flared as he addressed her while his gaze still remained on the king. “Just how it’s going to be, Mum.”

  Isha gasped, and Zawadi and Zik had wide eyes that looked like they would pop out of their heads at any second. Zareb, of course, just scowled harder.

  “Father,” he started. “Your Majesty. Rio is the woman I love, and I will do right by her and her only. I’m sorry if it feels like I’m letting the crown down, this family down. But it is what it is.”

  With bated breath, he—and the rest of the room—waited for the king’s response.

  A subtle nod came, no words. He hadn’t won the war, but the monarch was letting this battle drop for now.

  Zediah gave a sharp nod in reply, then after a slight bow, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room and down the corridor. He needed to find Rio. She didn’t know these grounds; she would easily get lost. The sooner he found her, the quicker they could grab their son and hightail it out of this forsaken place which seemed to have no care or concern for their love and happiness. On his son’s head, he vowed they would never remain in any situation or location that afforded them this lack of consideration and respect.

  One, two, three turns around this wing, and he still hadn’t located her. Panic started to thrum in his chest as he turned yet another corner to find it deserted. By now, she could be anywhere, and he didn’t have it in him to go look around the six-hundred-plus rooms in the palace and the fifty-or-so interior courtyards in its walls. He groaned, thinking of the extensive grounds which covered thousands of acres.

  He was growing incredibly restless and desperate when a hand emerged from a sitting room and clasped his arm. He turned to find himself staring into the face of Mama Sapphire. With a groan, he lurched towards her, and she welcomed him in her warm embrace.

  “Before you panic any more, I found her in the rose garden and took her to her room,” the queen said.

  He pulled away to look into her face. “She’s okay?”

  A dubious twist of her mouth gave him the reply he needed.

  “Mama, we can’t let this happen.”

  She placed a hand on his cheek. “I know, my dear boy.”

  Zediah took a deep breath. “I need to take her away from here.”

  “Good luck with that. Zareb still has all your passports, doesn’t he?”

  Bloody Zareb. Of course, he wouldn’t relinquish the documents until Queen Zulekha said so.

  He’d have to think of something. But first, he needed to see Rio. “Tell me where she is, please.”

  The queen nodded then directed him to where the guest rooms had been prepared for his arrival. They hadn’t thought to put Rio and his son in his quarters instead of settling them and Oksana in the wing across the palace.

  Rage boiled inside him. Honestly, this had gone on for long enough.

  As he stood in front of the said room and begged Rio to open to him, the fe
eling reinforced inside him. If he had to break down this damn panel to get to her, to go in there and pull her in his arms and never let go, he would do it. Then he’d take her away and never look back. His family had shown how much—or little—they thought of him. Leaving would be no significant loss for him.

  If only Rio would deign to let him in, though. He could only imagine her hurt. Her heart must have been torn from her chest and trampled by the king and queen. She had every right to lick her wounds in a dark corner. Twilight was upon them by now, and not a flicker of light could be seen under the door.

  Damn it! With another slam on the wood and accepting she wouldn’t open, he sighed and pulled away.

  “This is not over, Rio. I’ll be back. And we’ll leave.”

  How much did it hurt that she didn’t even react to the last words? She must really believe he would choose his family over her. After all, he’d done it in the past.

  The wall next to the door received a good kick. If only he had someone he could take all this fury out on …

  Zareb would be a satisfactory target.

  As he started towards the main lounge wing of the palace, he gritted his teeth when a soft female voice called out his name at the other end of the guest wing. He turned to find Bilkiss in the doorway to her room.

  Tired and overwrought, he didn’t have it in him to be friendly or civil with her. After all, this whole mess got started thanks to her antics back in Barakat.

  “Bilkiss, what the fuck?” he asked on a sigh.

  She winced, then nodded towards her room. He followed her inside, waiting until she’d closed the door.

  “I swear, Zed, this is not how it was supposed to happen.”

  He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Then pray, tell how it was supposed to be.”

  She took a deep breath. “I guess you heard I’m gay.”

  He shrugged. “So?”

  “You’re not angry?”

  “Why would I be? Surprised, yes, but angry?”

  “Because being a homosexual is not what one is supposed to be.”

  The little hint of uncertainty in her tone calmed his ire some. “Bilkiss, one is not supposed to be a psychopath, or a serial killer, or an adulterer.”

  “It really doesn’t bother you?”

  He shrugged. “Why should it? Are you hurting yourself, or anyone else, by being gay?”

  “No.”

  “Then there you have it. Full stop.” He frowned as he stared at her. “But fomenting a coup against your father? This one leaves me baffled, I’ll admit.”

  She sighed and flopped down on a sofa in the sitting room adjoining her bedroom. “Remember when you called me from London?”

  Zediah went to the seat opposite her and sat down. “You mentioned me refusing to marry you was a sign.”

  She nodded. “A sign I should live my truth. And it’s exactly what I did by coming out.”

  “Then?” It still didn’t make sense.

  “Then living my truth showed me how I should acknowledge every reality I had been shunning. Like the fact my father is an utter despot.”

  He closed his eyes for a second and exhaled. “There’d been rumours.”

  “Which I confirmed with my own two eyes. I couldn’t let this keep on, Zed.”

  “So, what was your plan?”

  “I’m leaving here on Sunday. Angelos is escorting me to Avilar, where the king has granted me asylum.”

  Zediah had yet to meet the young king Gabriel of the island nation of Avilar in the Adriatic Sea. But the man’s land had been under the tyrannical rule of a dictator who had usurped the throne for decades before the Linden family was able to win it back. It made sense his crown would stand behind freedom fighters who fought against a legitimate threat.

  “I told Zareb this when he found me in one of your cottages in Bordmer.”

  Suddenly, Zediah sat up straighter. “Zareb? You were only hiding there until this coming Sunday, and my brother knows this?”

  At her nod, fury boiled inside his veins. He jumped to his feet on his way to the door. He didn’t let himself think until he made it to the lounge room where he expected to find everyone at this time of the evening.

  Indeed, all his brothers were there with Isha and his sister India and her husband, King Omar of Sudar. The political skirmish with Bilkiss and his upcoming betrothal must have resulted in summons back to the castle. Isha’s husband, Zain, couldn’t leave his country too often as his people worked to rebuild Wanai after a despotic regime had been ousted. Sudar proved more peaceful, Omar thus able to accompany his wife today.

  Courtesy and a healthy respect and abiding friendship between Zediah and his brother-in-law made him cool his heels for the time it took to greet the man. With clasped fists, opposite shoulders bumping as they each slapped the other on the back with their free hand. India wrapped him in a hug, then placed both palms on his face and asked him if he was okay.

  He nodded, then extricating himself from her grip, turned to his twin.

  “Zareb, you fucker!” he threw out.

  Silence shrouded the room that looked like the interior of a gentlemen’s club minus the cigar smoke. A pair of eyebrows rose in question across from him.

  “You knew!” he spat out. “You knew Bilkiss would only be here until Sunday. Yet, you had to come to the palace and blab about it to Dad and the queens.”

  “It was a matter of homeland security,” Zareb had the gall to reply calmly.

  Of course, the prick would play it this way.

  “But what’s done is done now, Zed,” Zik said from the couch where he sat next to Zawadi. “How do we go forward from here?”

  Thinking of the future slammed an anvil of uncertainty on Zediah, and all his bluster evaporated when he thought of Rio.

  With a plop, he fell on a vacant sofa and put his head in his hands.

  No one spoke for long moments, then someone did.

  “You really love her, don’t you?”

  Zediah looked up to find Zawadi had asked the question. What good would it do to hide it? “With everything I’ve got and more.”

  “She’s the one,” Omar said softly.

  Zediah simply nodded.

  “You have to do something,” Isha added.

  He sighed. “What, though? Rio has locked herself in her room. The only thing she wants to do is leave this place and never look back, I’m sure.”

  “Has she told you so?” Zik asked.

  Omar chuckled, and all attention turned onto him. “When you’ve found your person, you don’t need them to tell you everything. You just know.”

  The tender look the Sudari monarch exchanged with his wife clamped a vice around Zediah’s heart.

  India had always seemed the most fragile of them all, and Omar protected her with his whole being. Yet, one could also see the man derived his very strength from this mutual love.

  What about Amira, his sister stuck in the US while this drama played out? She would throw a tantrum for missing out, surely. She and her husband Jake looked like teenagers in the first flush of love, always giggling as they exchanged loaded glances that spoke a language of its own.

  As for Isha, the woman had found her match in Zain Bassong, formerly a freedom fighter and now the president of Wanai. She went toe to toe, chest to chest, eye to eye with him, and Zain did the same since theirs was a joining of equals who shared respect and love for the other.

  All of this, all of what they had, Zediah had found with Rio.

  “I can’t let her leave,” he blurted out.

  “Want me to tell the airport authorities to block her passport, so she cannot escape?”

  Zediah turned sharply towards Zareb. For once, he didn’t see any sarcasm on his brother’s face. The man really meant what he’d said, offering an olive branch through the suggestion, even though it was hardly a good idea.

  Something warm unfurled in his chest as he stared at his twin. Could this be the start of the mend in their fraught relati
onship? If Zareb, a stickler for rules and propriety, was extending a helping hand, it must mean he backed Zediah in this war.

  “We have to do something irreversible,” Isha said. “Something that will send a strong message but which also won’t shed a bad light on the crown.”

  “What, though?” Zik asked.

  Zediah was at a loss, too. How could they do something so monumental?

  A sharp hiss came from Zawadi. “Rio is a Hindu, right?”

  “Yeah, why?” Zediah was not following.

  “Okay, stop it right there!” Zareb exclaimed. “I see where you’re going with this. Zawadi, get out now. As Crown Prince, you’re going to need plausible deniability.”

  His sisters’ eyes had grown big, and even laid-back Omar had sat up straighter. Zawadi did indeed get up and walk out of the room, and all focus veered to Zareb then.

  “It’s simple,” he said. Then he told them of the plan.

  “Put them in front of a fait accompli,” Isha said with a clap of her hands when he’d finished.

  “But you’re also going to need backup,” Zik concurred. “A recording? Will it be enough?”

  “Ooh, I know!” India smiled. “Live streaming.”

  “But not from an account with too big an audience,” Zareb stated. “We don’t need this to go viral before the king and queens find out.”

  “The focus on Instagram right now is on the charity’s account, what with the gala happening in a few weeks,” India said.

  “Which would mean the House of Saene account hasn’t been putting up too much content lately, and the algorithms won’t pick it up quickly enough,” Zik assured them.

  Zediah had been looking from one sibling to the other as the discussion raged around him. It still felt surreal, like a dream in which his brothers and sisters were all rallying to his side.

  Was it real?

  “Guys?” he asked, then waited until they’d all turned to him. “We’re really going to do this?”

  Surprise further flooded him as Zareb was the one who stood first.

  “We sure are,” his twin said. “Come on, I’ll take you.”