Chapter Eleven
ARETHA WOKE TO THE smell of antiseptic and the dull throb of pain in her leg.
The place was unfamiliar, but the situation was not.
She was back where she was belonged...and everything that was stolen from her, she would take back.
A smile curved her lips as she took in her surroundings.
The hospital wing of the palace was modest by royal standards—a small, private room with pale walls and gauze curtains that filtered the morning light into something soft and golden.
A vase of white roses sat on the bedside table, their petals perfect and still damp with dew.
Someone had thought to bring her flowers.
How sweet...and utterly inadequate.
She deserved more than flowers. She deserved groveling. Apologies.
But that would come later.
First, she needed information.
Aretha reached for the bell on her bedside table and rang it twice. A maid appeared within moments—young, plain-faced, eager to please. One of her old ones, if she wasn’t mistaken.
“Lady Aretha.” The girl dipped into a curtsy, eyes wide. “You’re awake. I’ll fetch the doctor—”
“Not yet.” Aretha let her voice tremble, just slightly. Just enough to seem fragile. “I only wanted...I’ve been gone so long, and I don’t know what’s happened in my absence.”
The maid told her about the envoys from Suneria, and Aretha noticed how the maid started avoiding her gaze when she asked about what the sheikh’s response was.
“Whatever it is,” Aretha said gently, “I can handle it.”
“I...I wouldn’t really...”
“Forgive me.” Aretha dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her sheet. “I know it’s foolish to ask, but...has the sheikh found someone? In my absence?” She let out a watery laugh. “I would understand, of course. It’s been over a year. He must have thought me dead.”
The maid’s hesitation stretched longer this time.
Very interesting.
“There have been...rumors, milady.”
“Rumors?”
“About the sheikh and...” The maid’s gaze darted to the door. “And Lady Aurora.”
Aretha went still.
Of course.
Her sweet, simpering, golden-haired little sister. The one who had always looked at her with those big, hopeful eyes, desperate for approval. The one who had followed Mik’hail around like a lovesick puppy, thinking no one noticed.
Oh, but Aretha had noticed.
She had seen the way the sheikh’s eyes followed Aurora when he thought no one was watching.
Had seen the softness in his expression, the hunger he tried so hard to hide.
It had burned her then, that knowledge. Burned like acid in her chest, knowing that her own betrothed wanted her plain, clumsy, illegitimate sister more than he had ever wanted her.
And now, it seemed, he had finally taken what he wanted.
“I see,” Aretha murmured. “Thank you for telling me.”
The maid curtsied again and fled, clearly relieved to escape.
Aretha stared at the ceiling, her hands folded neatly over her stomach.
While a lovely kitten like her was away, that ugly little mouse had thought it was her turn to play with her royal toy. Probably even thought she was meant to live happily-ever-after.
Aurora, you jealous little bitch.
The girl never did understand what her place, and it was only because of their parents that Aretha had forced herself to tolerate her presence. But now that it was just the two of them...
Aretha started making plans in her mind.
Mik’hail would not be easy to manipulate, but if she played her cards right, she wouldn’t have to do anything. Her stupid little sister would do it all for her instead.
****
BY THE TIME AURORA came to visit her that afternoon, Aretha was able to school her expression into something sisterly...even though all she felt was contempt the moment Aurora entered the room.
“Aretha...”
Aurora rushed forward at Aretha’s weak smile, and Aretha made herself say the usual things so as not to arouse suspicion.
No, it’s not your fault.
Of course I know you’ve tried your best to look for me.
I’m sorry, Aurora. I don’t want to talk about what happened for now.
And finally, Aretha forced herself to reach for her sister’s hand. “I want to take this chance to say what I should have told you so many years ago.”
“W-What is it?”
“I’m so sorry for being such a terrible sister to you all these years.
” Aretha let her lower lip tremble. “Before the accident. I was jealous and petty and cruel, and I treated you so badly. I’ve had over a year to think about it, lying in that awful little cottage, not knowing who I was or where I came from.
And when my memories finally returned...
” She drew a shaky breath. “All I could think about was how horrible I’d been to you.
My own sister. The only family I have left. ”
Aurora was openly crying now, her hand gripping Aretha’s like a lifeline. “Aretha...”
“I want to make it up to you.” Aretha squeezed back, letting her voice drop to something soft and earnest. “I want us to be real sisters. The kind who love each other, who support each other. And that’s why.
..” She paused, as if steeling herself. “That’s why I’ve decided to ask Mik’hail to dissolve our betrothal. ”
Aurora went white. “No, Aretha, you can’t—”
“I saw you.” Aretha kept her voice gentle.
Wounded. “Before the accident. I saw the way he looked at you, the way you looked at him. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice, tried to tell myself it was nothing, but.
..” She shook her head sadly. “He wants you, Aurora. He’s always wanted you.
And I can’t stand in the way of that. Not anymore. ”
“You’re wrong.” Aurora’s voice was high.
Desperate. “It was nothing. It was just—it was just infatuation on my part. The sheikh only humored me because he felt sorry for me. He never wanted me, not really. You’re the one he’s supposed to marry.
You’re the one he wants. So please...” Her voice cracked. “Be happy with him.”
Aretha looked at her solemnly. “There’s no need to lie. You’re my sister. I know you two are in love with each other.”
Aurora paled. “Aretha...”
“It’s fine.” Aretha made herself smile, soft and sad and understanding. “I’m not mad. I understand why he’d choose you over me.”
The words nearly choked her. As if any man in his right mind would choose mousy little Aurora over her. But she forced them out anyway, let them hang in the air like a gift.
“Oh, Aretha.” Aurora’s face crumpled. “You don’t understand. Even if—even if what you say is true, it doesn’t matter. I can’t be with him.”
Aretha tilted her head, playing at confusion. “Why ever not?”
“Because if I insist on staying, Mik’hail will have to put his kingdom at risk.
” Aurora’s words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other.
“The envoys from Suneria—they came this morning. They’re threatening sanctions, tariffs, all of it.
And it’s because of me.” Her voice broke.
“I’m not—I’m not Father’s real daughter.
I have no Desmonde blood. I can’t fulfill the treaty, and if Mik’hail chooses me anyway, Layla will suffer for it. ”
Well, well, well.
She had always known, of course. Had known since she was twelve years old and had overheard their parents arguing late one night. Mother’s indiscretion. Father’s cold forgiveness. The bastard child they had agreed to raise as their own, never speaking of it again.
Aretha had kept that secret close to her chest for years, a weapon waiting to be used.
And now it seemed she didn’t even need to use it. Aurora had handed her the ammunition all on her own.
Good thing the idiot still had an insanely tender conscience.
“I know how much he loves Layla,” Aurora was saying, her voice thick with tears. “I know how much he loves his people. I can’t be the reason they suffer. I won’t.”
Aretha reached for her sister’s hand, her expression soft with sympathy. “I’m so sorry, Aurora.”
“Please don’t be.” Aurora shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “It’s my fault. All of it. But I pray...” She drew a shaky breath. “I pray he’ll be happy with you.”
Aretha squeezed her hand. “The thing is...”
Aurora looked up. “What is it?”
Idiot, Aretha thought, even as she let her own eyes fill with tears again. Even as she sniffed and drew a shaky breath, her free hand pressing to her chest as if the words she was about to speak caused her physical pain.
“I fear,” she whispered, “this is the only way the sheikh and I can ever be happy...”