Chapter Thirteen
Rafiq could never be completely free.
While he wasn’t officially betrothed, an agreement had been reached.
A gentleman’s agreement, so to speak. But one made by a prince, a princess and two kings.
At twenty-one it had been easy to give any chance for his heart away, to see Yara’s plight and not factor the future in.
At thirty-five he needed a way out of the agreement their fathers had made.
One that didn’t compromise Yara.
He could see no way out though.
Rafiq had practically moved into the inner sanctum, poring over the edicts or sometimes just staring at the indicator, the little pink cross that told him he was going to be a father…
The terror he had felt on first finding out had long since gone.
The only fear he had was all he was missing out on, all that Liliana was facing alone.
He stared at the cross, knew she was now sixteen weeks and four days along.
And every day he did not come up with a solution was a day he could never get back.
It was late when the king came in, and he must not have realised Rafiq was in here, for he did an abrupt about-turn. ‘I’ll go,’ the king said. ‘I shan’t disturb you.’
‘It’s fine,’ Rafiq said.
‘No, no, you keep looking for your loophole…’
Rafiq gave a mirthless laugh and got back to searching a scroll.
‘I shan’t force you,’ the king suddenly said. ‘And not just because I know that I can’t actually force you to marry, but more, you don’t deserve it.’
Rafiq nodded. He knew it had taken a lot for his father to say that. ‘Thank you.’
They were just unable to speak, both could not meet the other’s eyes and Rafiq knew it had to stop. Knew how much better he felt from talking things through with Liliana.
‘I understand Khalid now.’
His father halted, but his back remained to his youngest son.
‘I thought he had betrayed me. I could not imagine how he could tell them about the tunnel, knowing it would lead to me being taken.’
‘We don’t know he told them,’ the king attempted, but his bark had died and he was tired of avoiding Rafiq’s eyes. So, he turned around.
There was no need to hide now for Rafiq had acknowledged the truth out loud.
‘I was so ashamed of him,’ the king admitted. ‘That he let you down, his country…’
‘No, please don’t think like that of him.
I was arrogant,’ Rafiq said. ‘I thought wild horses wouldn’t have dragged information from me.
And I thought my scars proved me right.’ He closed his eyes, but he thought of his brother and the woman he loved being threatened, and God knows what they had said or done to Khalid.
‘But that was then,’ Rafiq said. That was before he’d met Liliana, only to change his world.
Before he’d resumed feeling. ‘I don’t know if that’s the case now.
’ He might snap like a twig if it were Liliana under threat, or his child.
‘I am sad for what he must have gone through. Don’t ever be ashamed of him. ’
‘I’m not. I was at first, seeing you so injured and weak. I just didn’t know how to speak of it with you. With anyone.’
It had rather been erased from records and conversations.
‘Rafiq,’ his father said, ‘I know you think I did nothing to save you…’
‘Leave it.’
‘No. I did all I could.’
‘Of course,’ Rafiq said, disbelieving and trying not to show it.
‘Do you think the lazy bastard was asleep by accident, or that at the checkpoint the guards simply forgot to check the trunk? I had people watching for you, more than you will ever know. Behind the veil I did all I could.’
Rafiq swallowed as the veil was somewhat lifted.
‘The King of Al-Nawar, the current king, did all he could too. He had men on the ground, looking out for you, waiting for you to make a break for freedom, ready to move in and assist…’
‘Why did you never say?’
‘Many things were lost during those times—open dialogue is often the first thing to go.’ He fell quiet.
Rafiq stood, silently accepting that.
‘I was about to surrender the troops.’ The king admitted a buried truth. ‘I was on the edge of that, but then you escaped.’
‘You would not have surrendered the troops,’ Rafiq refuted. ‘I don’t believe that.’
‘Because you don’t allow for love.’
Rafiq exhaled sharply.
‘Certainly you don’t allow for the love a parent has for their child.’
He was starting to. The thought of a baby, his and Liliana’s baby, a world away in London, the thought of them out of reach had him frantically searching for solutions.
‘A loving parent will do anything to protect their child,’ the king said.
‘Not Liliana’s father.’
‘Then he deserves no thought in this matter.’
Rafiq nodded.
‘However, the King of Al-Nawar is a loving father.’
Rafiq wasn’t sure where his father was going with this. ‘Do you mean he understood why you were about to surrender the troops?’
‘Rafiq!’ The king gave a bark of laughter. ‘I never actually told him. If I had, our countries would not now be friends. Thankfully you escaped before it came to that.’
So he attempted open dialogue. ‘I know it would have been better had I been the one who died.’ Rafiq was not being sentimental or angling for his father to refute.
It was simply a fact. ‘But I am doing my best. And if I pull out of this arrangement, I’ll do all I can not to embarrass Princess Yara or King Al-Nawar. ’
‘Rafiq,’ his father interrupted. ‘Why would you think I would have preferred it to be you who died?’
‘Because Khalid was born to be king.’
‘Yes,’ his father agreed. ‘But Rafiq, you are a born king. A natural leader. You will be like a breath of fresh air.’ He looked at him. ‘Preferably with a wife and heirs.’
The king knocked on the door to be let out and Khalid stood there frowning. Hadn’t he just said he wouldn’t force him to marry Yara?
‘I shall leave you to your search of the edicts.’
‘It’s pointless,’ Rafiq admitted. ‘These are just ancient rules that don’t apply to modern times. Believe me…’
‘I believe in you.’ The king interrupted. ‘The laws are stubborn, but they are—’ then it was the king who was interrupted, the conversation halted, the guards were here and the doors to the sanctum had opened. But before he left, the king turned around ‘—not quite so ancient.’
Rafiq’s tongue was firmly in cheek at the slight rebuke from the king, but then he met his father’s eyes and realised he was telling him something.
Some things were too delicate to be stated directly.
Diplomacy ruled, even in the inner sanctum.
‘Carry on,’ the king said.
‘I shall.’
It helped to know that his father was on his side. The moon was too, for it was high in the sky and the pearls were dazzling, making the words leap from the scrolls, and with renewed vigor Rafiq searched for an answer…
To what?
What had his father been pointing to?
There was a subtlety to diplomacy, a way to work within and around the rules.
He thought of Liliana—all he thought of was Liliana these days—but her taunt about him hiding behind the edicts, how the rules suited him irked.
And it still niggled at him.
The way she’d said oh, please as she’d gestured to the VIP lounge.
As if speaking about Yara.
And Jasmine.
He replayed his father’s words. Not quite so ancient.
It really hadn’t been a rebuke, instead he was trying to guide him and Rafiq called for the scribe.
‘Do we have Al-Nawar’s edict amendments?’
‘Some,’ the scribe said and nodded. ‘Only what we can gather, or that are publicly put out.’
‘Around the time Khalid was captured.’ He thought of when Yara had told him her secret. ‘Or a year or so before.’
The scribe thought he was investigating his kidnapping, and Rafiq let him keep it at that.
And there had been a lot of amendments when the king had been overthrown. Small amendments written in fresher ink, but there was nothing that helped him see.
‘Let’s go back a couple more years,’ Rafiq said, his eyes strained, but the moon, swollen and full, had the pearls dazzling, as if directing his finger across the parchment.
And there it was.
A darker ink.
Fresher.
Not so ancient.
‘Just minor amendments,’ the scribe said as he went through them. ‘Mainly regarding the royal retinue and public sightings. Here.’ His voice lifted ‘A unique lover can be considered for staff.’
‘This was Al-Nawar?’
The scribe knew perhaps a little of Rafiq’s predicament; he had been in the sanctum for days with him after all. ‘I am sure it can be easily done here.’
Rafiq looked up and frowned, realised the scribe thought he was looking for ways to include Liliana in his life.
Rafiq wanted more than that, and Liliana would demand more than that!
‘Yes,’ Rafiq said, keeping Yara’s secret so close that he let the scribe think this was about his own personal predicament.
The veil further lifted.
The King of Al-Nawar did indeed love his daughter, for when she’d been but fifteen, he’d had the foresight to think of her future…
Rafiq was quite sure.