Chapter 18 #2

“I can if my life will save thousands of

others.”

“No,” King Asad said. “As much as I and every

other person here appreciates your selfless offer, your father is

right. You can’t be so reckless with your life. You must start

thinking like a king who is responsible for the health and wealth

of the people in his kingdom.”

Aleksi shifted uneasily under the combined

stares of two kings and the emissaries. He may have shown how new

he was to the politics of ruling a kingdom, but he still thought

his solution a better one than endangering thousands of lives. He

may have been a king’s successor today, but yesterday he had been a

stable hand and a bastard whose life was no more important than any

other man’s. He was not completely convinced that he was wrong in

this, and he really wanted another shot at the Wolf.

“Besides,” King Asad added, “I don’t believe

the Ox and his spawn would ever agree to such an arrangement. We’ll

do better to wait him out, let him find some way to back out and

save face.”

Sahar brushed and combed Lasair until her

coat shone and her mane flowed tangle free. She’d meant to ride the

mare away from the palace, but the rain that had been threatening

all morning finally let loose. She played with Kiska for a while,

letting the kitten chase a length of leather around the stables

until they both tired of the game. She took advantage of a lull in

the downpour and made a run for the palace where she considered

going to the kitchens to scrape up treats for Kiska, but decided

against it on the chance that she might run into Ursula.

The last thing she wanted was to be witness

to the kitchen maid’s triumph on accepting the betrothal of a

stable hand who wound up being a prince. Especially since that

prince was Aleksi.

Skirting the kitchens, Sahar decided to bury

herself under the blankets of her bed and sulk the remainder of the

day away, but as soon as she entered the hall to the family

chambers, Halah came floating toward her with a beatific smile on

her glowing face. As far as Sahar knew, it was the first time since

the wedding Halah had left the new chambers she was now sharing

with Munir.

“Oh,” she said, a pretty blush on her cheeks.

“You weren’t wrong about the joys to be found in a marriage

bed.”

Sahar laughed. “I told you, Lala.”

“Yes you did.” Halah’s grin widened and she

let out a sigh of satisfaction. “It truly is a wondrous thing, and

to think, I will have a lifetime of such wonder with my

husband.”

A pang of jealous longing sliced through

Sahar’s chest, dropping her heart to her feet. “I’m truly happy for

both of you,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as morose as she

felt. She forced her mouth into a smile. “I knew it would be so

between the two of you.”

Of course, Halah heard the pain and longing

in Sahar’s voice. “Oh, I did not mean to…”

“It is not your fault, Lala. It’s all been my

own doing. It’s been my pride that kept me from accepting his

proposal, if not his passion. My willful stubbornness that chased

him away.”

Into another woman’s arms.

“There’s still hope. I saw the way he looked

at you at our wedding. I may be a newly wedded woman,” she said,

blushing again, “but I know desire when I see it in a man’s eyes,

and Aleksandr desires you.”

“Lack of desire has never been our problem,”

Sahar said. “Other things have come to pass recently, things that I

am not at liberty to tell you or anyone else yet, things that have

made it impossible for us to be together.”

“Impossible?” Halah asked, “or

improbable?”

Sahar shrugged. “Either way, Aleksi will not

be asking me to marry him again.”

“So you ask him.”

“No.” Sahar shook her head. “I’ve lost my

chance.”

My stallion has moved on to greener

pastures.

“If that’s true, then I’m sorry for you

both,” Halah said, patting Sahar’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Lala.” Sahar gave her cousin a

sad, rueful smile. “It’s good to have someone else know what I’ve

lost. Someone who understands.”

“I’m here for you,” Halah assured her.

“Always.”

Sahar nodded, ridiculously close to

tears.

“I was on my way to visit Rima and Ammar,”

Halah said. “You should come with me. Rima will be glad to see you,

and a baby can’t help but cheer you up.”

Two happily married women and a newborn baby

would only be reminders of all that Sahar had lost, but her life

had to go on without Aleksi.

She rolled her shoulders back and lifted her

chin.

She may as well get on with it.

Aleksi pushed back from the table with a

groan, glad for once to be wearing robes instead of breeches. Anya

had outdone herself with the feast tonight celebrating his

ascension as his father’s heir.

The announcement had been received with

shocked silence at first, but then King Asad had stood and clapped,

followed by his queen, and his son and his daughter, until one by

one, every person in the hall was standing and clapping. Aleksi’s

father had beamed and Aleksi had smiled and accepted

congratulations. He shook hands with seemingly every person there,

but for Sahar, who had sat down without a word, her hands primly in

her lap until the first course of the meal was served.

She’d remained quiet, partaking of more wine

than food and keeping her gaze on the table or off in the distance

somewhere, except for whenever Ursula was in the hall. Then her

narrowed gaze followed the maidservant’s every move, and would

flicker over at Aleksi with a quizzical glare.

Which was one of about a hundred questions

Aleksi wanted to ask Sahar, but he hadn’t been able to get her

alone for days, not since their encounter at the river. About the

only question he had no intention of asking her again was to marry

him. She had stated repeatedly she had no want or need of a

husband, or a man. Especially him. Though Aleksi knew that was not

completely true. She may not have needed him, but she had wanted

his body and the sensual pleasures it could give her. As he wanted

her. The difference between them was, he wanted more than her

body—he wanted her mind and her heart too. He wanted her standing

by his side as his wife and his queen, the same as she had stood

and fought by his side in the wilds. Her, and no other.

Maybe if he’d courted and wooed her rather

than competed and argued with her.

Aleksi snorted into his goblet of wine. The

tigress he knew would have eaten him or any other man alive who

tried. She was not one to fall for false praise and flattery. Well,

he amended, remembering the Wolf’s oily courting, not for long

anyway. Aleksi supposed he and Sahar had courted in their own way.

They’d teased, argued, and tangled with each other, eventually

becoming allies and lovers who had fought for and saved each

other’s lives. It hadn’t been enough for Aleksi to win his tigress,

a woman who refused to be any man’s prize. As much as he hated that

he’d have to go on without her, he had to respect her for being

true to herself.

“Well, Father, would you like to meet the

head cook now?”

His father patted his full belly. “I would

indeed.”

They made their way to the kitchens where

Aleksi spied the back of Anya’s head at a table she and two other

women were working at preparing dough for the next day’s flatbread.

He led his father over and tapped Anya on the shoulder.

“Father,” Aleksi said as she turned around,

her wide eyes fixing on his father, “this is—”

“Anya?” his father called. “Anya, is it

really you?”

Anya nodded wordlessly, her gaze never

leaving his.

“Anya.” His father wrapped her in his

embrace. “My Anya.”

Tears spilled from eyes squeezed tight as she

hugged him back, and when she opened them again, they focused on

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