Chapter 30 — The Man She Chose
Amara had spent months dreaming about going home.
Now that home was waiting for her, leaving had become unexpectedly difficult.
The royal ships were nearly ready. Supplies had been loaded, diplomatic arrangements completed, and King Adisa intended to sail within three days.
Three days.
Amara stood at the harbor watching sailors prepare the fleet.
Behind her waited the family she had feared she would never see again.
Across the ocean waited her country, her palace, her duties, and thousands of people who believed their princess had returned from the dead.
And somewhere behind her, in the temporary residence, was Alexander.
She loved him.
That was the problem.
Queen Nalia found her daughter alone.
“You have been standing here a long time.”
“I am thinking.”
“About home?”
“About everything.”
Her mother joined her.
“You want to return.”
“More than I can explain.”
“Then why do you look unhappy?”
Amara did not answer.
Nalia already knew.
“Alexander.”
Amara sighed. “Everyone in this family has become remarkably observant.”
“We had months to worry about you. We are making up for lost time.”
Amara smiled faintly.
Then she became serious.
“What am I supposed to do, Mother?”
“About what?”
“My life.”
Nalia looked surprised.
“You are asking me?”
“I occasionally ask for advice.”
“You usually ignore it.”
“That does not mean I don't appreciate receiving it.”
Her mother laughed.
Amara leaned against the railing.
“If I remain here, I abandon everything I spent months trying to recover. If I go home, I leave Alexander.”
“Why must those be the only choices?”
Amara looked at her.
Nalia continued, “You were kidnapped. For months other people decided where you would go and what would happen to you. Do not continue their work by building another prison for yourself.”
“I have responsibilities.”
“Yes.”
“To Father. To Azania.”
“And you also have a life.”
Amara was silent.
“Go home,” Nalia said. “See your country again. Sleep in your own room. Walk through your gardens. Remember who you were.”
“And Alexander?”
“If what you have with him is real, an ocean will not destroy it.”
Amara smiled.
“You make it sound easy.”
“No. I make it sound worth trying.”
Alexander had reached a different conclusion.
He was packing.
Amara found him folding his uniform into a trunk.
She stopped in the doorway.
“What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“I can see that.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because I want to know why.”
Alexander continued.
“My duties here are finished. Your family has taken responsibility for the investigation. Rourke's network is being pursued. You're safe.”
Amara stared at him.
“So you're leaving.”
“Yes.”
“Before me.”
“Yes.”
She felt anger rising.
“You were going to say goodbye?”
“Of course.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“That is extremely considerate.”
Alexander stopped.
“Amara.”
“No. Continue packing. Apparently you have somewhere very important to be.”
She turned.
He caught her before she reached the door, not touching her but moving in front of it.
“Would you listen?”
“You have approximately thirty seconds.”
“I am leaving because you need to go home.”
“I know that.”
“And I don't want you looking at me every day wondering whether choosing your family means losing me.”
Amara's anger weakened.
Alexander continued quietly.
“I promised I would help you become free even if freedom took you away from me.”
“That doesn't mean you have to disappear.”
“If I ask you to stay, part of you might.”
“What if I want to?”
“Then someday you might hate me for it.”
Amara stared at him.
He had thought about this.
Probably for days.
“You have decided everything again.”
Alexander closed his eyes.
That was precisely what he had promised not to do.
“I suppose I have.”
“Yes.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Good.”
She walked past him and closed the trunk.
Alexander looked at it.
“What are you doing?”
“Correcting your mistake.”
They sat together.
For once, neither argued.
“I am going home,” Amara said.
“I know.”
“I need to see my country.”
“Yes.”
“My mother. My brothers and sisters. My people. I need to stand in the place from which I was stolen and know that I returned.”
Alexander nodded.
“I would never ask you not to.”
“I know.”
Amara took his hand.
“But I am not choosing Azania instead of you.”
Alexander looked at her.
“And I am not choosing you instead of Azania.”
“Then what are you choosing?”
“Both.”
He almost smiled.
“That's ambitious.”
“I am a princess.”
“I've heard.”
She squeezed his hand.
“I don't know exactly how this works. I don't know what my father expects, what your military expects, or what happens when a princess of Azania falls in love with an American officer who cannot follow simple instructions.”
Alexander raised an eyebrow.
“I cannot follow instructions?”
“You repeatedly kissed me after we agreed it was a mistake.”
“You participated.”
“Details.”
He laughed.
Amara moved closer.
“I choose you, Alexander.”
The humor disappeared.
“Amara—”
“Not because you rescued me. You didn't. I survived before you found me.”
“I know.”
“Not because you protected me. Not because I owe you anything. Not because I need somewhere to belong.”
Alexander listened.
“I choose you because when everyone else saw something they could own, sell, control, rescue, reward, or protect, eventually you learned simply to see me.”
Alexander touched her face.
“And I choose you.”
“You should think carefully. My family is enormous.”
“I noticed.”
“My brother dislikes you.”
“He's improving.”
“My mother knows everything.”
“That frightens me more.”
“My father commands an army.”
“That part has crossed my mind.”
Amara smiled.
“And I am extremely difficult.”
Alexander laughed.
“That was the only part I knew from the beginning.”
She kissed him.
There was no urgency this time.
No argument.
No mistake.
Only choice.
That evening, Amara spoke to her family.
They gathered in a private room aboard the flagship.
“I am returning to Azania,” she told them.
Her mother smiled.
Adisa nodded.
Then Amara continued.
“Alexander is coming with me.”
Kellan nearly dropped his glass.
Alexander, standing beside her, remained impressively calm.
King Adisa looked at him.
“Is he?”
Alexander glanced at Amara.
“Apparently.”
She elbowed him.
The King almost smiled.
Kellan did not.
“For how long?” her brother asked.
Amara answered, “We haven't decided.”
“You cannot simply bring an American officer into the royal court.”
“Why?”
“There are protocols.”
Alexander looked at Amara.
“I have discovered that your family uses that word whenever they want to make something simple difficult.”
Queen Nalia laughed.
Kellan looked offended.
King Adisa raised a hand before another argument began.
“Enough.”
Everyone became quiet.
He looked at his daughter.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes.”
Then he looked at Alexander.
“And you?”
Alexander answered without hesitation.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Adisa nodded.
“Then come to Azania.”
Kellan started to object.
His father silenced him with one look.
“Amara was taken from this family because others believed her choices did not matter. They matter now.”
Amara's eyes filled.
She crossed the room and embraced her father.
Later, she and Alexander stood together on the deck.
The harbor lights reflected across the dark water.
In three days, they would sail.
Amara was going home.
Alexander was going with her.
Neither knew what waited there.
A royal court.
Political complications.
Family expectations.
Perhaps scandal.
Certainly arguments.
Probably many arguments.
Alexander slipped his hand into hers.
“Nervous?”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
Amara looked at him.
“You survived pirates.”
“Yes.”
“You survived my father.”
“Barely.”
“You even survived Kellan.”
“So far.”
She smiled.
“Then perhaps you can survive Azania.”
Alexander looked toward the royal fleet.
“I am beginning to suspect pirates were easier.”
Amara laughed and rested her head against his shoulder.
For months, other people had chosen for her.
Where she would go.
What she would be called.
What she was worth.
Who supposedly owned her.
Not anymore.
She was going home because she chose to.
Alexander was coming because she chose him.
And for Princess Amara, that made all the difference.