first been captured. Now she was being driven to a freedom she wasn’t sure she wanted.
They rode through the unending desert, Assad driving while Khalil and Elena sat in the back, not speaking, not touching.
Despite the ache Khalil’s stony silence caused her, Elena forced herself to think practically. In two days she would, God willing, be back in Thallia. What would Andreas Markos have done in her absence? Would he have heard of her abduction, or would Aziz have managed to keep it secret?
She’d only been in the desert for a handful of days, even if it had felt like a lifetime. Perhaps Markos and the rest of her Council weren’t yet aware of what had happened.
‘Have you heard any news?’ she asked Khalil abruptly, and he turned, eyebrows raised. ‘Has Aziz admitted that I’m missing? Does my Council know?’
‘Aziz has admitted nothing. I doubt your Council is aware of events.’
‘But how has he explained—?’
‘He hasn’t. He hired someone to pretend to be you and it seems everyone, including your Council, has believed it.’
Shock left her speechless for a moment. ‘He did? But—’
‘They appeared on the palace balcony two days ago. From a distance the woman fooled the people, or so it would seem. That’s all I know.’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘Your Council wasn’t expecting to hear from you, I presume?’
‘Not until I returned.’ She’d been meant to be on her honeymoon. ‘You should have told me,’ Elena said and Khalil eyed her coolly.
‘What purpose would it have served?’
‘It just would have been good to know.’ She stared out of the window, tried to sift through her tangled feelings. She wasn’t exactly surprised that Aziz had come up with an alternative plan; she’d suggested as much to Khalil. She wasn’t hurt by his actions either. But she felt...something and with a jolt she realised it was hurt—not for what Aziz had done, but for what Khalil hadn’t. Not telling her had been a tactical move, a way of treating her like a political pawn rather than a—what?
Just what was she to him now?
Nothing, obviously. She closed her eyes and thought of him covering her with kisses last night, both of them laughing. It was pretend. You knew that.
But it still hurt now.
‘I’ll be able to tell you more when we return to camp,’ Khalil said. He drummed his fingers against the window, clearly restless. ‘What will you do when you return to Thallia?’ he asked. Elena opened her eyes.
‘Do you really care?’
‘I’m asking the question.’
‘And the answer is, I don’t know. It depends what state my country is in. My government.’
‘Your Head of Council won’t have had time to call a vote to abolish the monarchy.’
‘No, but he will as soon as he can.’
‘You could marry someone else in the meantime.’
‘Suitable husbands are a little thin on the ground.’
‘Are they?’ He turned back to the window, frowning deeply. Elena had no idea what he was thinking. ‘Just what was your arrangement with Aziz?’ he asked, still staring out of the window.
‘I told you.’
‘I mean in practical terms.’
Bewildered, she almost asked him why he wanted to know. Why he cared. Then, with a mental shrug, she answered, ‘It was a matter of convenience for both of us. We’d split our time between Thallia and Kadar, rule independently.’
‘And that pleased your Council?’
‘My Council was not aware of all the terms of the marriage. They probably assumed I’d be more under Aziz’s influence.’
‘And they didn’t mind a stranger helping to rule their country?’
‘He’s royal in his own right, and as I explained they’re traditional. They want me under a man’s influence.’
Khalil nodded slowly, his forehead knitted in thought. ‘And what about heirs?’
A blush touched her cheeks. ‘Why are we talking about this, exactly?’
‘I’m curious.’
‘And you want me to satisfy your curiosity?’ Her temper flared. ‘What for, Khalil? None of it is going to happen anyway, and in any case it has nothing to do with you.’
He turned to her with a granite stare. ‘Humour me.’
Her breath came out in a rush. ‘We planned for two children, an heir for each of our kingdoms.’
‘And where would these children have been raised?’
‘Initially they would stay with me, and when they were older they would split their time between the two countries.’ She looked away, uncomfortably aware of how cold and clinical it sounded. ‘I know it’s hardly an ideal solution, but we were both desperate.’
‘I realise that.’
‘Like I said, it doesn’t matter anyway.’
‘But you still feel you need a husband.’
She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes once more. ‘I do, but maybe you’re right. Maybe I can face my Council on my own, convince them not to call the vote.’
‘It’s a risk.’
She opened her eyes. ‘You don’t sound nearly as encouraging as you did before.’
He shrugged. ‘You have to choose for yourself.’
‘Seeing as there’s nothing to choose, as I have no prospective husband, this whole conversation seems pointless.’
‘Maybe,’ Khalil allowed, and turned back to the window. ‘Maybe not.’
* * *
He could marry her. The thought made everything in him rear up in shocked panic. Marriage had never been on his agenda. Yet ever since he’d seen that serving girl this morning, and realised the repercussions of his night with Elena, the thought had been rattling around in his brain like a coin in a box.
He could marry her—marry the woman who was intended as the Sheikh of Kadar’s wife. It would help strengthen his claim, stabilise his throne, and it would give Elena what she wanted too.
Why not?
Because it’s dangerous. Because the emotional risks you warned her about apply to you too.
Because you care about her already.
Elena
