Chapter 38
“She won’t be able to make my dress, Adeela. There’s no way. I’m flying to Paris tomorrow to choose a prêt-à-porter.”
My sister-in-law sounds indignant, because the designer who made one of her wedding dresses—since in our culture the bride changes outfits at least once during the ceremony—said there isn’t enough time to make mine.
“To be honest, I don’t even care. Besides, she was so kind! She offered to bring an entire team to Kindubh just in case the dress needs last-minute adjustments. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It’s a civil ceremony followed by a dinner for a dozen people. I don’t even need a dress, really.”
“Don’t say that. Every girl needs a wedding dress!”
“You’re more dramatic than usual. Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I’ve been a little anxious. A bit of everything. Your father can’t travel, but your mother refusing to attend your wedding is really upsetting me.”
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t expecting anything different,” I lie. “She told me flat out that she doesn’t approve of Rodrick and would rather I married a prince. Mother isn’t worried about my happiness, only about what Rheadur’s high society will think of my marriage.”
“It must be hard to live your entire life based on other people’s judgment.”
“That’s how she was raised. How we all were, really. But I think the two of us broke the mold.”
“Speak for yourself. I behaved properly when I married my sheikh.”
“You said my mother was one of the things worrying you. What else?”
“The death threats against your brother have increased.”
“What?”
“The radicals are losing their minds over the restoration of women’s rights, and Kaled is more tense than ever about security. Don’t be surprised if he’s on your case when we arrive for the wedding. He worries especially about your trips to the university.”
“Don’t worry. I have a small army behind me. As for university, I decided to put it on hold this semester. To be honest, I chose the course randomly because I dreamed of leaving Rheadur. I do want to study, that much I know, but I don’t think industrial design will ever be my passion.”
“Why the rush? Choose carefully. Just don’t give up.”
“No chance. I won’t stay locked at home waiting for Rodrick to come back from work. I want my own career. I just don’t know which one yet. I have to go. Take care.”
“In a few days we’ll see each other. I can’t wait.”
I end the call and grip the phone tightly. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this, but I’ll try one last time to make peace with my mother. I don’t want to begin this new chapter of my life at odds with her.
“May peace be upon you, Mother,” I say when, after calling nearly ten times, she finally answers.
“Jazmina,” she says simply, and I feel my heart constrict.
My mother has never been my friend. Her comparisons with my sisters always made me unhappy, and since I came to Europe, she has grown even more distant.
“Are you sure you won’t come to the wedding? Kaled could bring you.”
It's not easy to invite her for the third time. There is one trait common to all of former Sheikh Kamran’s children: pride. We do not bow. But her absence from my wedding would mean more than disagreement—it would mean she wants no part in my life from now on.
“You already asked me that, Jazmina, and you received an answer. Why would I change my mind? I do not bless this marriage. When you said you were going to Europe, I knew nothing good would come of it. And now you’re shaming our people, parading around with that boy as if you were a Westerner.
Give up this nonsense while there’s still time.
You were not born to be a duchess abroad, but rather a princess in your own country. ”
“There is no shame in marrying by choice, Mother. Rodrick is the man I want as my husband. Our engagement is not nonsense. I adore him, and if you cannot accept that, I won’t insist anymore.
The doors of our home will always be open to you, as long as you treat my future husband with the respect he deserves. ”
Paris — France
The next day
“You look so beautiful, Jazmina,” Josephine says.
I look at my reflection in the mirror and like what I see. The dress is simple by Rheadur standards but perfectly suited to my celebration. If not for the veil, it could pass as an evening gown.
It’s white, long, straight-cut, fitted, and sleeveless, though it covers the tops of my shoulders.
I asked the designer to raise the neckline—it was too bold for my standards.
My father will surely repost the photos in our country’s newspapers, and I don’t want to fuel further conflict between the radicals and my brother.
“I like it too,” I say, sighing.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid.”
“Of getting married?”
“No. Of falling in love. We’re going to separate one day. That was the deal.”
“From what you told me, you were the one who brought up separation. Did Rodrick ever say he wanted that too?”
I try to remember. “No. I was the first to say it. When I proposed, the physical attraction mattered, of course, but mostly, I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to be free.”
“And now?”
“Now I wonder if I can be free and still stay with him. We’re not even married yet, and I don’t want to have to say goodbye.”
“You said you’re afraid of falling in love. I hate to burst your bubble, but I think you already have.”
“Passion is about desire, right?”
“At first, yes. But I think passion is also the beginning of love. It’s like reaching a fork in the road. You can choose to dive deep into the relationship, and then it becomes love. Or what once seemed sweet starts to irritate you, and everything turns sour.”
I laugh. “Your explanations are the best. I can actually picture myself with a little suitcase choosing between two paths.”
“And which one will you take?”
“I don’t know. Or rather, I know what I want, but it’s not a decision I can make alone.”
“I think staying is a decision you can make.”
“And what good would staying do if he isn’t in it with me? Aside from the few things he’s told me about his mother, I know as much about Rodrick as any society columnist. I’ve seen his desire and passion, but not what’s inside.”
“You mean the way he won’t talk about his father?”
“That too. And that man, Gilroy, especially. Rodrick never explained what happened after that night at the restaurant, but I know they hate each other. There’s something there I can’t force him to talk about. If he doesn’t trust me enough to open up, how can I imagine a forever for us?”
“And is that all?”
“No. The clause about children shattered me. Even if this is a marriage of convenience and I don’t plan to have them now, adding that item made it clear our future has an expiration date.”
Kindubh — Scotland
Two days later
I descend the castle stairs feeling like I’m in a dream, wearing the blood-red, one-shoulder gown Josephine and the personal stylist helped me choose, with my prince charming—sorry, my duke charming—waiting for me.
Rodrick looks devastating in a black suit that outlines every powerful muscle of his body.
My heart pounds when I reach the bottom of the steps. “Do I look all right?”
“‘All right’ doesn’t even come close to how beautiful you look.”
I step closer and wrap my arms around his neck. “I like being able to touch you whenever I feel like it, without worrying about what’s appropriate.”
“Have we ever been appropriate, Jazmina? Since the day I carried you out of Vicenzzo’s party, we’ve sent social conventions straight to hell. With me, you’ll never have to fear speaking your mind or apologizing for having an opinion.”
His words soothe my nerves. I don’t know if I’m ready to face Scottish high society.
He kisses me, and I melt into his arms, wishing we didn’t have to go anywhere.
“What’s wrong?”
“They’re going to judge me. Athol told me over a hundred and sixty women signed up to be your wife of convenience. And you chose a foreigner.”
“I chose the woman I want for myself.” His certainty calms me.
“I thought I chose you. Whose idea was the proposal, again?” I tease.
He pulls back slightly to look at me. “It’s that impertinence that makes you the only possible choice.
Don’t be nervous. We don’t even have to stay long, but as duke, I need to attend the dinner they’ve arranged, or it would be considered an insult.
I don’t care about that, but this isn’t about me.
It’s about the title my family has held for generations. ”
“That’s all right. It’s not the first time I’ve been judged. I was just venting.”
“Come with me,” he says, guiding me toward the library.
“Aren’t we supposed to go?”
“Yes, but first I want to give you something.” He holds the door open, then presses a button on the wall panel. A safe appears. After entering the code, he comes back to me holding a velvet box.
“What is it?”
He opens it. “It belonged to my mother. I’m giving it to you, and I want you to wear it tonight. Everyone will recognize it—there’s a numbered catalog of the Duchess of Kindubh’s jewelry.”
I open and close my mouth, searching for words. “You want them to know I’m the lady of the castle now?” I ask, understanding the symbolism.
“That too. But mostly, I want them to know you’ll be my wife. They owe you respect.”
“You’re not doing this for yourself. You don’t care what they think. It’s for me. You want me to feel safe.”
“That’s right. You’ll never bow your head to anyone again, Jazmina.”
And just like that—without warning—he steals a large piece of my heart.