Farah staggered around to face her mother. “Have you met your real daughter?”
Anna shook her head, reached out imploring hands.
“When you do, never tell me about her. I-I can’t have even a mental picture of her…”
Sobs overwhelmed her again as she imagined Shehab, his magnificent body open to the worship of the faceless woman, a woman fit to marry a king, a princess born, favored by all, the instrument of peace and prosperity, his equal in beauty and refinement, sharing his background and culture, versed in all the nuances she’d never known, and in the arts of seducing and servicing her man.
And he’d take his pleasure inside her, spill his seed where it would take root, as it…
“I can’t bear it.” Hands came over her at her cry, each imprint a brand. She cringed at each, screamed, “Don’t touch me.”
The hands withdrew, and the world swam, everything swelling and distorting, inside and out.
At last she heard herself rasp, “Who are my real parents? Do you even know them?”
Anna only hiccupped a great sob, shook her head again.
And Farah wailed, “Oh, God…I’m nobody’s.”
Shehab had to stop Farah. Had to stem her agony before it killed them both.
But before he could dash to contain her, she was careening to the door, her beloved face shuddering, her eyes gushing tears that looked as if they were blood-tinged.
He lunged with the surge of fright, caught her arms, examined her tears frantically, his fingers dipping in them, rubbing at their texture, almost sagged with relief to find it all in his abused mind.
She shook her head and tried to squirm out of his hold, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m s-sorry…for all the time and effort you wasted on me. But you now h-have the woman who’ll solve your problem a-and you’ll never hear from m-me again…”
He knelt down before her again, collapsed. “Er-ruhmuh ya Farah…mercy. If you don’t want to kill me, even though I deserve whatever you do to me, I beg you, stop. Stop tormenting yourself. None of this, none of us, especially not me, is worth one of your precious tears.”
She stared down at him, her tears running faster instead as a shaking hand flailed down his cheek before whipping away as if he’d burned her. She looked at it in stupefaction. It was wet.
And he realized it-he was weeping, too. He’d shed tears only at his mother’s deathbed. Not only for her loss, but for what she’d endured before death had spared her the suffering. His father’s death had been so sudden, yet somehow expected. Shehab hadn’t been able to feel real grief when he’d felt his father had gotten his heart’s desire, rushing after his wife.
Now he wept, for the grief he’d caused the woman who’d become the one thing he wanted from life. The woman who deserved to be cherished by all, who now felt that she never had or would ever have anyone.
He’d set her straight, once and forever. “It’s not true you’re nobody’s. Even if it were, it wouldn’t matter. You’re mine. As I’m yours.”
Everything stopped. Her tears, her breaths. His heartbeats. But he knew he wouldn’t convince her that easily. He must…
“You must stop this at once, Shehab.” That was King Atef, agitated now, severity entering his voice. “I will do everything in my power to compensate Farah, but you have a duty.”
Shehab only took Farah around her hips, hugged her as she swayed, supporting her as he turned his head to the king. “Yes, I have a duty…” He turned his face back up to her. “To the woman I love. I beg you, ya farah galbi, joy of my heart, marry me.”
Farah jerked in his hold, gasped, her tears flowing again, splashing all over his upturned face, mixing with his.
He hugged her more fiercely, buried his face in her bosom, begged, “Marry me, let me live my life filling yours with security and fulfillment.” He raised his eyes, seeking evidence of her starting appeasement and healing. “I want only you, no agendas, just need, just love, for you, and nothing but you.”
Her hands swept over his head, his face, as disbelief warred with creeping elation and hesitant belief on her expressive face.
He hurried the latter. “Yes, believe me and in me again, I beg you, ya maboodati. It’s true, every word and touch and pledge were true, and all for you.”
She still shook her head. “But you can’t…I’m not…”
“And I’m ecstatic that you’re not. As long as you were the king’s daughter, you would always have thought marrying you served my original purpose. I was about to let you go, would have moved heaven and earth to have peace without the need for our marriage, would have begged to remain your lover, to become your husband only when you believed that I wanted you for yourself. But now it’s better than what I didn’t dare imagine. Now you’re only Farah. Mashoogati. You’ll be sure that every minute from now till the end of my life is for you, and nothing and no one but you.”
“Enough, Shehab,” King Atef roared. “Don’t be cruel, don’t go promising the child what you will not be able to fulfill. As Judar’s future king…”
“As Judar’s future king I have to pay the price of not pledging myself to Farah.” Shehab cut across the king’s righteous wrath, rose to his feet, cleaving her to his side. “And since that’s an impossibility, then I gladly abdicate.”
The world had stood still so many times since she’d laid eyes on Shehab. This time it streaked, as if to skip his declaration, unable to actually record it.
But nothing could lessen its impact. Or stop it from storming through her.
He wanted to abdicate. For her.
He’d been telling her the truth. He felt the same.
He felt the same.
He hugged her off the ground, burying his face in her neck where his still-wet face singed her skin with the concept and reality of his tears. His tears.
And she couldn’t bear it, wouldn’t have it, that she’d be the reason for his pain, his loss, for discord.
She clung to him, took his face in her hands. “If you’re doing this so I’ll believe you, you don’t need to. I do believe you. I believe you, my love. But you can’t walk away from your duty.”
“I can…” he turned his lips to one of her hands, then the other “…and I will.” He suddenly threw back his head and laughed, the most marvelous sight and sound to ever occur on the planet. “Do you know who I love almost as much as I love you at this moment? Kamal. I’m ecstatic to have him for a younger brother. I now understand how relieved Farooq was to have me next in line, to pass the throne and its attached wife to.”