The Prince
She stared at me with that probing gaze, the one that could bring me to my knees and make me admit things I had no intention of saying. Like I had just moments before. And now I couldn’t answer her.
“What is yours?” she demanded.
I remained silent, even as the answer beat in my chest. You, you, you. That answer was only my hopes speaking, a thing that could never be true. Her brows lowered, and her eyes shadowed.
“I am not a possession to own, Shahzadeh. And I cannot be yours when you banish me with your very words. You cast me aside. Ordered me to return to the South. Is that what you do with what is yours?”
I couldn’t help returning the fire. “You ruined our future when you decided to be someone you weren’t.
I am only sparing you from a life you had no wish to be a part of.
” I ran my hand through my hair. “And you love Zeki. Why are we even discussing us when that possibility doesn’t exist? You love him.”
Why had my words emerged as a question? And why did every part of me wish she would deny the accusation?
“I do.” She stared me in the eyes. “I do love him.”
I bristled, unable to control the envy sprouting within.
“I love him more than I ever thought possible.” She inched closer with each word, as if she enjoyed torturing me. Her breath lingered on my skin. I stiffened as she touched my face, her fingers soft despite her calluses.
“I do not wish to hear it,” I nearly spat, but I couldn’t move. Her touch chained me to her.
“Now who’s jealous?” she whispered, drawing my gaze to her lips.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and ignored the urge to charge from the room and murder Zeki.
“But there is no reason to be. He is in love with someone else.”
My brows drew together, confusion filling me. Her hand dropped, and I felt the absence of her touch immensely. She stepped away and walked around me.
“And not only that. Zeki is my brother.”
She headed to my bed, leaving me with my mouth hanging open. I was frozen as she flung back the blankets and settled onto the rough mattress. She pulled off her chadar, and her thick braid fell over her shoulder.
“He is what?” I blinked, attempting to put my mind in order even as large chunks of the story were missing.
“Zeki is Shahzadeh Eskender. You saved a Southern prince.”
“Why didn’t he tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Eskender wanted to escape his past. He wanted me to keep this a secret, but I cannot continue this way, with you ignoring him and casting him aside.”
She lay back on the bed. I blinked several times as her words settled in.
“What are you doing?” I finally said.
“Going to sleep,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.
“Not in here.”
Being in her presence weakened my restraint, and I needed to steel myself for the time when we would part ways.
Because we undoubtedly would part, no matter what revelations had taken place tonight.
When she learned I’d killed her father, she would want nothing to do with me.
Neither would Zeki. I flinched at the thought.
Just the idea of losing my closest friend and the woman dearest to me in the world devastated me.
To minimize the eventual damage, I had to spend as little time with her as possible.
“You are welcome to leave if you wish,” she said.
“Perhaps I will.”
I strode toward the door, but my fingers stilled around the handle. Why should I leave? This was my room. She was the one who had burst in. I spun around and marched to the bed. She sat up, forehead wrinkled.
“I thought you were leaving?”
“Plans changed.”
She shifted away as I settled onto the mattress and grasped hold of the blanket.
“You will remain on that side, and I will stay on this side,” she ordered.
I almost chuckled, recalling the large pillow boundary we had the last time we’d shared a bed—and we had still awoken tangled in each other’s arms. I nodded, maintaining my stony facade. “Fine.”
“Fine,” she repeated, then plopped her head onto the pillow.
A few seconds elapsed, and I asked what had come to the forefront of my mind.
“Zeki. Who is the woman who’s captured his heart?”
She grumbled under her breath. “Go to sleep, Shahzadeh.”
She rolled over and I did the same so our backs faced each other. More than distance separated us. The faint smell of roses wafted to me, and I slammed my eyes closed, gripping the blanket fiercely. She may never be mine, but somehow, during all of this, I had become irreversibly hers.