The Sheikh’s Secret Heir (Sheikhs and Sweethearts #3)

24. Tara

CHAPTER 24

TARA

H ere I am, back in bed. Except this time it’s different. I’ve retreated here, cocooned in its safe embrace, the world beyond my window nothing more than a smudge. But even as I wish to vanish into the folds of my duvet, I can’t escape the truth that’s lodged in my throat like a pill too bitter to swallow — Faiz thinks I betrayed him. The extent of his disappointment clings to me, heavy and suffocating.

I know I should be at the main palace by now; duty calls, even when your heart is in shards. So, with an effort that feels Herculean, I peel back the covers and slide out of bed. My movements are mechanical, my mind numb as I dress and try to do something with my hair, even though my heart isn’t in it one bit.

The drive to the palace is a blur, and it’s not until I see the sight outside of the gates that my vision seems to sharpen. A cacophony of voices, a siege of sound. Journalists swarm the main gates like locusts hungry for devastation. I steel myself, straighten my spine, and drive forward.

“Dr. Hague! Dr. Hague!” They shout my name at my car, each call a needle pricking my already tender skin.

How do they know who I am? Do they know about me and Faiz? Or do they know the name of every person who works at the palace?

I park in the staff lot, but their shouts reach me even there. “Is it true about Ali? What can you tell us about Faiz?” Their questions are darts dipped in poison, but I’ve built up an immunity. Or so I tell myself.

“Sorry, I can’t comment,” I say, hating the way that my voice shakes. I keep my face unreadable, eyes fixed ahead. I am the royal-family doctor, privy to their secrets, holder of my own.

The guards do their best to hold the line, their arms firm barriers against the onslaught of curiosity and greed. I duck my head and slip through the palace doors, grateful for the respite from probing eyes and insatiable questions.

Once inside, the world quiets. The halls that are normally filled with the bustling activity of staff are silent, holding their breath. I yearn to join them in their quiet vigil, but my feet carry me onward, toward the heart of the chaos, where I know Faiz’s parents must be reeling from the news.

Whispers swirl around me like a desert storm, each one laden with a name — Ali. Finally, a few staff members shuffle past, their glances fleeting and filled with speculation. Finding the butler, I ask him to arrange some time for me to speak to the sheikh and sheikha.

He gives me an odd look. “Dr. Hague, surely you know what is occurring right now?”

“Yes. I do know.” I stand a little taller, lift my chin. “And it’s precisely why I need to speak to them. I have… important information.”

His eyes start to widen in surprise, but he quickly collects himself and nods. “Very well. I will see what I can do. One moment.”

“Thank you.”

He steps into his office to make a private call, and I wait in the hallway outside, my stomach a ball of tension. I’m not entirely sure what I will say to the sheikh and sheikha. I only know that I’ve kept so much in for far too long, and now that the truth is out there — even if it came out in the worse way possible — it’s time for me to unburden my own load.

Barely a minute has passed before the butler opens his office door. “The sheikh and sheikha will see you in their private wing.”

“Oh.” My mouth drops open. It’s quite the invitation, and even though I want to see them, I’m suddenly overcome with nerves.

I weave through the corridors, the walls hung with tapestries that absorb sound and make my footsteps feel intrusive. The air is thick with tension, as if the palace itself braces for the impact of the scandal. My heart beats in rhythm with the hushed conversations, each thump a reminder of the chaos I’ve stepped into.

When I reach the sheikh and sheikha’s private wing, I hesitate. My hand trembles as it hovers over the door handle of their sitting room. I take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of polished wood… and knock.

“Come in,” the sheikh’s voice calls from within, and I open the door.

They sit before me, the sheikh and sheikha, wrapped in their dignity though with bags under their eyes and looking like they carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Their faces are etched with shock, a testament to the news that has shattered the calm of their kingdom. They look up, and in their eyes, I see reflections of my own turmoil.

“Your Highnesses,” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. “I need to tell you something.”

The words tumble out, a confession let loose from the guilt coiled tight in my chest. “I knew about Ali.” My admission hangs in the air, a fragile truth. “Faiz trusted me not to tell. And I didn’t — I swear I didn’t.”

My hands clutch at the fabric of my blouse, seeking some anchor even as I know there’s nothing to save me from this situation. “But there’s more. I fell in love with Faiz.” Saying it aloud feels like stepping off a cliff, free-falling into a chasm of uncertainty.

They say nothing, and it’s better that way, because I worry that if I am given a moment to even draw a breath, I’ll lose all nerve and stop talking. “And he thinks… he believes I’m the one who revealed Ali’s existence.”

The last words are a blade to my own heart, the pain sharp and real.

Silence envelops the room. I stand here, stripped bare of pretense, every defense crumbled away. I have laid bare my soul to them, offered up my mistakes and my heartache.

Now, I wait, bracing for the storm I’ve unleashed.

The sheikh and sheikha exchange a glance, one that speaks volumes in the language of years spent side by side, before they turn back to me. There’s no anger there, only a depth of understanding that I hadn’t dared to hope for.

“Dr. Hague,” the sheikha begins. “We have always admired your discretion and dedication to our family.”

I bite my lip. My dedication towards the two of them has been faulty, given what I promised Faiz.

She reaches out, her touch light on my arm, grounding. “It’s clear you’ve borne a heavy burden,” she adds.

I nod, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you,” I murmur. “I never meant to betray your trust. I wanted to help Ali, and…”

The sheikh, a pillar of strength, inclines his head. “We understand your position, Tara. And we appreciate the care you’ve shown Ali… and Faiz.”

“Faiz asked for me to care for Ali,” I explain. Now that Ali’s existence is out in the open, so what if I share the details of my story? Perhaps it will make them more understanding of their son’s need to keep Ali a secret. And even if Faiz and I are over, I don’t want to make his or Ali’s lives any harder than they already are.

I want to help. Until the end of time, I want to make things better for the two of them.

“Ali needed medical treatment,” I continue. “I signed a non-disclosure agreement saying that I would not share anything about his existence, and that…” Noticing the way they are hanging on my every word, I stutter to a halt.

They know nothing about Ali, I realize. Nothing other than the article — which I read — saying that Faiz has a secret son named Ali who has been hidden away for an undetermined number of years.

“You haven’t spoken to Faiz, have you?” I breathe.

The sheikh’s lips purse. “No. He has been avoiding our calls.”

I let out a shuddering breath. So, Faiz has holed himself up. How very typical of him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m apologizing for this time. Perhaps it is the general catastrophe of the whole situation.

“You are a good employee, Tara,” he says. “A good friend. If I were in your shoes, I would have done the same.”

I blink away the moisture threatening to spill from my eyes, touched by their compassion yet still awash with sorrow. It’s a strange dichotomy, this relief intermingled with grief.

There’s a knock on the door, and one of the royal advisors enters. He bends his head, speaking to the sheikh and sheikha in hushed tones, and I take the opportunity to slip out of the room. They have enough to deal with, and they don’t need me hanging around intruding on their space any longer.

I’m barely noticed by the rest of the staff as I walk through the palace. They’re occupied with conversations about the scandal, with their theories of who was behind the leak. I wonder, too, but it’s a path I won’t go too far down. In the end, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. There’s only one more question that’s truly important.

Where does my life go from here?

Doubt creeps in like the cool shadows cast by the setting sun. I’ve no roots in this place, no ties beyond the walls of this palace that now feels more like a gilded cage. The time I’ve spent with Ali, those fleeting moments with Faiz — they’ve kindled a yearning for something more, something beyond reach.

A family of my own, the warmth of love returned, a home filled with laughter and not veiled secrets. Those desires, once dormant, now flicker fiercely inside me, stoked by what could never be.

This world of royalty and hidden truths has become too intricate, too fraught with complication. And Faiz — noble, distant Faiz — is a dream I must awaken from.

No, this cannot be my endgame. The realization settles over me, heavy and yet also freeing. I’ve been playing the part of a supporting character for far too long — to my parents, then the sheikh and sheikha, then Faiz and Ali.

And now? Now it’s time to step it up. It is time to become my own main character.