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Note to Readers
‘THE ANSWER IS NO.’
Karim’s voice was harsher than usual, sharp rather than simply firm. The Assaran envoy’s suggestion had stunned him. It seemed, despite his actions five years ago, he was still a part of Middle Eastern politics.
Karim stared through the window at the panorama of sapphire lake, verdant foothills and Swiss mountains, yet felt none of the calm the view was supposed to inspire. He spun around, ignoring the quickened beat of his pulse and the clench of his gut.
‘But, Your Highness…’
Karim stiffened at the words. ‘I no longer use a royal title.’
He watched the envoy absorb that.
‘Sir, at least take time to consider. You haven’t yet heard the Royal Council’s reasoning.’
It was an enormous honour to be asked to take the Assaran throne. Especially since Karim wasn’t Assaran. He came from the neighbouring kingdom of Za’daq, where his brother now ruled.
Karim wouldn’t accept the Assaran crown. Yet he wondered why the Council was looking beyond its borders for a new sheikh. What about the heir? He knew the recently deceased ruler of Assara had left behind a wife and son.
When Karim realised the direction of his thoughts he sliced them off. But not quickly enough to dispel the sour tang on his tongue.
‘Please, sir.’
The man looked distressed. Karim knew his visitor would be blamed for failing in his mission. If it was discovered he’d been ejected by Karim in mere minutes…
Stifling a sigh, he gestured to the lounge. ‘Take a seat. You might as well be comfortable.’
The presidential suite of this exclusive hotel might be comfortable, but sadly it hadn’t proved exclusive enough to prevent this unwanted diplomatic delegation. As the hotel’s new owner, Karim would change that.
‘Thank you, sir.’
Even so, he waited till Karim had taken a seat facing him. Deference towards royalty was ingrained in the man. Even royals who’d renounced their regal claim.
For a mad moment Karim considered revealing the truth and ending this farce. But he’d vowed not to. His brother Ashraf had enough to deal with, imprinting his own stamp on Za’daq. He didn’t need full-blown family scandal as well.
Their father had believed Ashraf, the younger brother, was the result of an affair between their mother and the man she’d later run off with. It had only been as the old Sheikh lay dying that they’d discovered Ashraf was legitimate.
Instead Karim, the firstborn, the one groomed from infancy to take the throne, was the cuckoo in the nest.
When, soon after, the old Sheikh had died, Karim had renounced the Za’daqi throne in favour of his brother. No one but the brothers knew the scandalous reason for his decision.
‘The Council has given this its deepest consideration since the tragic death of our Sheikh.’
Karim nodded. The Assaran King’s death had come out of the blue. ‘But surely there’s an heir?’
If the envoy noticed Karim’s voice had turned to gravel, he didn’t show it.
‘Yes, but he’s far too young to take up the reins of government. If the boy were older…a teenager, perhaps…a regent might be appointed to rule in his stead
