Page 30 of Her Royal Daddy
We were in the twenty-first century, not the Dark Ages. Arranged marriages couldn’t possibly still be a thing, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to be dragged into one. “No,” I said, first to my father and then again, even more strongly to Jax. “N.O. I will not marry just to appease you and your constituents. I will not have these major life decisions made for me as if I am a child, or worse, a pawn on your chessboard. I will not marry a woman I have only just met, and my father, who, mind you, barely knows me, will not be the one to pick her out for me. Marriage is not a business merger.”
Jax all but rolled his eyes.
“Of course it is,” my father muttered. “More than that, son, we have been doing it this way in Osei since long before there was a written word. Zahra is a lovely girl, and a union between the two of you will go a long way to solidifying an alliance between our kingdom and Nigeria.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t really give a fuck.”
My father slapped the blankets across his lap. “It is already done,” he wheezed, as close to yelling as he could weakly come to it. “Osei is your future! I have given you everything!”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me there were so many strings attached,” I spat.
He had in fact, told me the opposite when he asked me to come. No strings attached, that was what he’d written in his letter.
He sobered, apparently remembering the same thing. “A king must have a proper queen. I did not expect the media storm surrounding your arrival, and I have done my best to counter the damage it has caused. Marrying Zahra will not only do great things for the kingdom, but it will strengthen your image as future king. One who takes his role seriously. This is not America. The people of Osei don’t want a playboy king. They—” Breaking off with a sigh, my father sank into his pillows and finally just shook his head. “The least you can do is go to the ball and meet Zahra. Give her a chance. She’s a wonderful young woman, and if it’s any consolation, I didn’t take her because she was the first applicant to respond to my letter. I picked her because I honestly think the two of you will suit.”
“She could be Mother Theresa in a supermodel’s body,” I countered. “It wouldn’t matter, because I’m in love with someone else.”
My father closed his eyes with a wince.
Behind me, Jax said again, “Great exceptions will be made.”
I didn’t want exceptions. I wanted Norah.
This time when I yanked the door open, Jax allowed it. I left the king’s room in a snit and for the next hour or so, I stomped around the palace, pacing the halls blindly, not really sure where to go to expend this angry energy. The only thing I did know was I didn’t want to dump it all on Norah. She had that ‘I am not princess material’ speech down damn near word for word with the king. Hell, for all I knew, she’d written his argument for him.
Well, all right. I knew that wasn’t true, but hearing the same argument twice now from both of them had affected me, and more than I expected. Being a king was all about duty, country, and roots, and a woman who would understand the importance of those things. The only thing my father hadn’t said but which was every bit as painfully obvious to me was that I hadn’t been raised to be a king. Zahra would come to me already knowing everything I didn’t. Looked at that way, I could see the sense in marrying her. Partners were supposed to help one another; that she would definitely help me navigate the unfamiliar territory I was sure to encounter as king was more than obvious.
With Norah, it would be the blind leading the blind in that regard, but I loved her. And with all my heart I knew she would take the duties of the kingdom seriously. Probably even more so than I did. And yet, softly whispering doubts refused to be silent as I considered each time she’d repeatedly told me she wasn’t princess material, couldn’t be with a king, and didn’t see a future for us.
But she loved me. I knew she did. I knew it without a doubt in my mind.
Marriage was a thing that needed to happen. If nothing else, my father had managed to convince me of that, and I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I couldn’t imagine trying to find the time to date after I became king. Perhaps that’s how the tradition had started.
Plus, I did want to have my father there. I’d missed having him at every important milestone thus far in my life, if I could have him at my wedding, I wanted him there. That alone meant I had to hurry up and have one. My father did not have much time left, weeks at best.
I was stuck. The only question that truly remained was this: Would I marry for duty or for love?
Zahra, or Norah?
The woman I’d yet to meet, or the little girl who made my daddy’s heart pound harder just at the thought of being with her?
Did I even really have a choice? I guess I had until tomorrow night to figure it out.
