For Duty's Sake

Still, Angele felt the need to say, “I did not betray you like she did.”

He quoted another proverb, this one about seeing two sides of the same mountain leading to different impressions of the same thing. So, he read her attempt to walk away as a betrayal. She knew it had made him angry, because he’d admitted it. Understanding the source of that anger, only made it harder to know about.

Horrifically naive, maybe, but she hadn’t meant to let him down.

She turned her head away, looking at the painting over her small fireplace. It was a cheerful impression of jazz musicians on the streets of New Orleans, done after the rebuild of the city. It always infused her with hope. Right now, all she felt was malaise.

Knowing how very deeply she had disappointed Zahir hurt. “I was protecting myself from a marriage without love, but I thought I was giving you your freedom, too.”

“I accept that.”

“But you don’t accept it was a gift intended to benefit you.” She had not been motivated entirely by beneficence, but she had wanted him to have a better chance at happiness, too.

She hadn’t realized she’d been capable of hurting Zahir, but obviously, she’d been wrong. While his heart might not have been touched, she had dealt a serious blow to his pride and to his sense of honor.

Not to mention his trust in her integrity.

She sighed when he did not answer. “So, we somehow organize a momentous wedding while the world watches in two months time.”

“Just so.”

Apparently he was as willing to move their discussion forward as she was. There was simply no point in rehashing old arguments. Somehow, she would prove to him that she had his best interests at heart. And maybe, in the same space, she would learn to accept that he felt the same.

He’d certainly done his best to protect her and allow her what he thought she needed for happiness. Perhaps, in his mind, the years’-long wait had been as much for her benefit as his.

Moreover, he’d said repeatedly that he believed in fidelity in marriage. Making their engagement official would have required him breaking things off with Elsa. And while it hurt that he had not wanted to do so, Angele thought that Zahir had deserved his slice of happiness not related to his duty or role as future king.

Unfortunately for him, things had ended badly and unquestionably painfully.

If Angele could not be that moment out of time for him, she would show him she could be more. That she, Angele bin Cemal al Jawhar, could be a source of joy in his everyday life.

She would start now, by helping to plan the wedding with grace and as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “I think we need to call in the experts.”

“A wedding planner? The PR department? Our palace event coordinator?” he asked while making notes on his phone.

“All of the above, I’m sure. But I was thinking the queens and my mother. Nobody throws a party like Lou-Belia.”

Zahir paused and looked up, his gray gaze fixed on her. “I thought you did not wish to speak with your parents this evening.”

“There’s no point in putting it off.” And some very good reasons not to, the chief among that Angele was not a naturally selfish person. “Mom will be hurt if I don’t call her tonight, but we’ll want to coordinate a conference call with her and the queens for tomorrow.”

The buzzer sounded again.

“Impeccable timing,” she said, putting on her game face and getting up to answer the summons, sure it was her parents showing up to share in the happy news.

Zahir’s bodyguard beat her to it and Zahir asked, “Why do you always assume it is your mother when the buzzer sounds?”

“You honestly think King Malik has not already called my father?” she asked in response.

“Most assuredly, but are your parents not on the list of approved visitors for the doorman?”

“Of course, but it’s policy for the doorman to buzz me to let me know I have visitors even if he doesn’t need my approval to let them on the elevators.”

“I see. It is very different than living in a royal palace.”

“Yes, it is, but you’ve stayed in hotels.”

“No one gets to me until they’ve been through at least two layers of security. There are no buzzers in my life.”