Page 6 of Her Vow to Be His Desert Queen

He’d hadn’t wanted to contact her again. Taking his crown and cutting out the corruption that had been endemic in his court had turned him from mere stone into granite, and he wasn’t the young man she remembered, the friend she’d once had. He’d wanted her to have only good memories of him.

But making the hard decisions was what was what being a king meant. It also meant living with the consequences so his people would have a better life. Balancing the needs of the few with the needs of the many. And the many needed Sidonie.

They needed her laughter. Her brightness. Her optimism and her empathy. Her ability to relate to people from all walks of life.

So he’d made the decision to hold her to the promise she’d written, and once he decided something, it happened. He never regretted and he never doubted. Certainty was strength in a king, another thing his mother had taught him long ago.

Sidonie would likely refuse, especially considering how he’d broken off their friendship, so he was going to have to convince her. He wouldn’t accept a ‘no’.

It would have been easier to do things the old way, the way of his ancestors from centuries past who simply put their chosen bride over the front of their horse and rode off with her. But, since he lived in the modern world and that was frowned upon, he’d have to go about getting her agreement instead.

Sidonie’s laugh had wound down, and she was wiping her eyes, though he suspected that was for effect. ‘I’m sorry, Khalil,’ she said. ‘For a minute there I thought you were serious.’

He did not smile. ‘I am serious.’

‘No, you’re not.’ All the laughter drained abruptly from her face. ‘This is a joke.’

‘You were not joking when you wrote it,’ he pointed out.

‘I was drunk when I wrote it.’

‘You had had two Cosmopolitans and were mildly tipsy at best.’

He thought she might laugh again, one of her delightful, bubbling laughs, but she didn’t. Instead her green eyes narrowed. ‘You can’t possibly expect to hold me to that.’

Interesting. She was...harder than he remembered. Sharper too. Not the passionate, warm woman he remembered. What had happened in the past five years to make her assume this...veneer? Because something had. Well, he’d find out. Once she was his wife, they’d have time to discuss it.

‘I can,’ he said flatly. ‘And I will. You signed it. I’m sure I could even have my lawyers prove it is a legal contract that you are obliged to honour.’ He didn’t want to force the issue or hold a legal threat over her head, but the fact remained that he needed a queen. A royal marriage to give his people something joyful after all the years of his father’s dark reign. And his queen had to be her.

Apart from what she herself would bring to the role, she also had no ties to his country, no family trying to gain influence, no political or business affiliations that would cause suspicion in the various factions in his court. She was an outsider with no previous history, which also made her someone most people would accept.

Sidonie’s pretty features were almost hard. ‘I have lawyers too, Khalil.’

He tilted his head, surveying her, noting the glitter in her eyes and the firm line of her soft mouth. Somehow she’d found steel. He wasn’t sure he liked it. Where had the Sidonie he remembered gone? The Sidonie he’d been able to talk to about anything and mostly had, except for a couple of dark instances that he didn’t want to remember himself, let alone talk about? The Sidonie who’d steadfastly ignored the fact that he was a prince? Who’d dragged him along to the movies and bought him popcorn. Who’d made him hold her shopping bags as if he was a servant while she tried on clothes. Who’d laughed at him when he’d told her he never carried a wallet because he always had someone to handle payments for him, and who’d then taught him how to use a debit card.

Back then he hadn’t known why any of that had fascinated him so much. He’d only known she was beautiful and interesting, and that she seemed to like him. He’d never encountered that before. He’d had Augustine and Galen, of course, his friends and fellow princes, and they seemed to like him too. Yet in a way, Augustine and Galen and he had been forced together because they were all princes.

Sidonie, on the other hand, was nothing like him. She wasn’t royal or rich, didn’t come from nobility or money. She was friendly and warm, bright and sunny, while he’d been dark and scarred from the things he’d had to do to become heir. Despite that though, she’d seen something in him that had made her choose to be his friend.

That Sidonie would never have mentioned lawyers.

He should have paid more attention to what she’d been doing these last five years, but he’d cut off contact with her for a reason. He hadn’t wanted to be distracted by the past. Not when he had the difficult politics of his nation to handle.

Not that there was any point thinking about that now.

‘Then by all means engage them and we will fight this in the courts.’ He held her gaze. ‘I hope you have deep pockets.’

For some reason the flush that had crept through her cheeks deepened. ‘You can’t mean this. Five years ago you told me not to contact you, and yet suddenly you’re here, shoving some ridiculous thing I wrote when I was drunk in my face, and demanding that I marry you? That’s insane, Khalil.’

It probably was from her point of view. Still, he wasn’t budging.

‘It is not insane,’ he said. ‘I am in full possession of all my faculties, I assure you. There were reasons I told you not to contact me, but things have changed.’

‘What things? Changed how?’

‘Al Da’ira is more stable politically now, and I need a wife.’

‘But I—’

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