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THE WHITE ROBES slapped angrily against Hafiz’s legs as he stormed into his office. He would rather be anywhere else but here. Although the palace’s murky shadows descending on the spartan rooms were good companions to his dark mood this evening.
“Your Highness.” His private secretary clumsily hung up the phone. The withered old man bowed low, his fragile bones creaking. “His Majesty wishes to speak to you.”
Hafiz set his jaw as dread seeped inside him. The day couldn’t get any worse. The sultan didn’t command appointments from his eldest offspring unless there was or would be an unpleasant event.
“When did he make this request?”
“Ten minutes ago, Your Highness,” the elderly man answered, his focus on the threadbare Persian rug. “I called your cell phone and left several messages.”
Of course. He had turned off his phone so he wouldn’t bend to the overwhelming need to call Lacey. His show of confidence that she would follow his orders was going to cost him in more ways than one. Hafiz wanted to roar with frustration, but he needed to stay calm and focused for the sultan.
Hafiz turned and checked his appearance in the gilt-edged mirror. He didn’t see anything Sultan Yusuf would find offensive, but the ruler didn’t need to hunt long for something to disapprove about his son. Unable to delay the inevitable, Hafiz set his shoulders back and strode to the palace offices.
When he entered the sultan’s suite, Hafiz stood respectfully at the double doors and waited to be announced. As one of the secretaries hurried to the massive wooden desk to convey the message to the sultan, Hafiz grew aware of the sideway glances and growing tension. He coldly met the employees’ stares one by one until the gazes skittered down in belated respect.
Sultan Yusuf dismissed his secretaries with the flick of his hand. The men hurried past Hafiz and through the doors. Their expressions of grateful relief concerned him.
The sultan continued to sit behind his desk and read a note on thick white paper. He took his time to deign to acknowledge his son’s presence. “Hafiz,” Sultan Yusuf finally said.
Hafiz approached the sultan. “Your Majesty.” Hafiz gave the briefest deferential nod as defiance flowed through his veins.
The sultan tossed the paper on to his desk. “Be seated.”
The lack of mind games made Hafiz suspicious, which it was probably supposed to achieve. Hafiz sat down on the chair across from the desk. Tradition dictated that he should keep his head down and his gaze averted. He was never good at tradition.
The sultan leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and studied Hafiz. Not even a whisper of affection crossed his lined face. “You are very fortunate that the Abdullah daughter agreed to the marriage.”
Fortune had nothing to do with it. It didn’t matter who his bride was. He was marrying this woman for two reasons. It was his royal duty and it was another step toward redemption.
“This girl knows about your—” the king’s fingers splayed apart “—misspent youth, as does her family.”
Hafiz clenched his teeth and willed his hands to stay straight on his knees. He would not respond. He would not allow his father to spike his temper.
“They will use that knowledge to their advantage as the wedding preparations draw closer. The dowry is not nearly worthy enough for a prince. We’re fortunate they didn’t demand a bridal price.”
Hafiz still said nothing. His teeth felt as if they would splinter. His fingers itched to curl and dig into his knees.
“Have you anything to say, Hafiz?”
He did, but most of it wasn’t wise to say aloud. “I regret that my past mistakes still cost our family.” And his regret was as honest as it was strong. Nothing could erase the suffering he’d caused Rudaynah. The simple truth destroyed him, and his life’s mission was to prevent any future suffering from his hand.
“As do I.” Sultan Yusuf sighed heavily. “The reason I’m telling you this is that I expect many maneuvers from the Abdullah family.” He smacked his lips with distaste as he mentioned his future in-laws. “Any male relative could trick you. Talk you down the dowry. Say you made a promise or agreement when there was none.”
Annoyance welled up inside Hafiz’s chest. From years of practice, his expression didn’t show his feelings. Hafiz negotiated multi-million-dollar deals, brokered delicate international agreements and increased the wealth of this country ten times over. But his family didn’t respect his accomplishments. They only remembered his mistakes.
“You will have no interaction with the Abdullah family,” the sultan commanded. “All inquiries must be directed to my office. Do you understand, Hafiz?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” He didn’t have a problem following that order. If that was the purpose of the meeting, Hafiz wondered why the sultan didn’t dictate a memo so he didn’t have to speak to his son.
“After all,” the ruler continued, “your mother and I cannot afford another scandal from you.”
Hafiz closed his eyes as the pain washed over him. He should have seen that coming.
“This marriage must happen.” The sultan tapped an authoritative finger on the desk. The thud echoed loudly in Hafiz’s head. “If the engagement is broken, it will shame this family.”
Shaming the family was his sole specialty. The statement was left unspoken, but Hafiz could hear it plainly in his father’s manner. It wasn’t anything his conscience hadn’t shouted for more years than he cared to remember.
“You’ve already lost your right to the throne because of your poor choices,” Sultan Yusuf said with brutal frankness. “If you harm this agreement, I will make certain you lose everything you hold dear.”
Did his father think he would try to sabotage the wedding agreement? Hafiz was stunned at the possibility. Hadn’t his actions proven he would sacrifice his personal wants for the good of the country?
“But, if you do not cause any delay or scandal—” he paused and sliced a knowing look “—I will give you the one thing you desire.”
Hafiz flinched. His mind immediately went to Lacey. A white-hot panic blinded him. Did the sultan know about her?
“Marry the bride I choose, and you will resume your rightful place. You will become the heir to the throne once again.”
* * *
Lacey’s fingers dragged against the ivory keys of her piano, but she didn’t play a note. She couldn’t. The music inside her had been silenced.
Glenn and Annette had retired hours ago, but she couldn’t sleep no matter how hard she tried. Her body felt limp and wrung out, and her mind craved for oblivion.
What was it about her? Why was she so easy to discard? First her parents and now Hafiz. She didn’t understand it.
Lacey
