Maisey Yates - Hajar's Hidden Legacy

There was a moment, so brief he might have imagined it, that he saw vulnerability in her deep green eyes. And that brief moment nearly hit him. Nearly made him lose his grip on the internal shield he held so tight.

He tightened his jaw. “Your situation is regrettable … for you.” He turned to go and he heard Katharine’s high heels clicking, quick and sharp, against the hard floor.

“For both of us,” she said. “If John takes control of my country he’ll change everything. We have a good thing going between our two countries now. We’re a huge buyer of your oil supply and you depend on us to supply produce, meat, wool. I don’t see him keeping up with trade agreements. He’s a blind, selfish fool. He’ll be the downfall of Austrich and he’ll do his best to shake Hajar with his incompetence as well.”

He stopped and turned, his pulse pounding hard. One thing he had done as a leader was his absolute best to create a secure country for his people. To prevent the possibility of more attacks. Of more death. Katharine painted a bleak picture, one that made flashes of light go off in his mind.

Explosions and chaos. Confusion. Pain. Darkness.

He tightened his hand into a fist and squeezed. Hard. Working at bringing the walls back up.

He didn’t want this to be his problem. He wanted to go on as he had, maintaining the balance, living alone. And yet he wasn’t sure it could be ignored. A hot surge of adrenaline pumped through him, the automatic fighter’s instincts filling him, fueling him. There had been a time when he’d been a warrior, when he’d been on the front lines.

He could picture what civil war would be like. He’d experienced a taste of that hell.

“In name only, and then what?” he asked.

“You can divorce me as soon as Alexander turns twenty-one.”

“And what of your cousin then?”

“He’s power mad, but he doesn’t possess the wealth or connections to cause any trouble on his own. However, if he can get into power and start war … incite riots … he can declare a state of emergency and keep himself on the throne. That I can’t have.” She took a step toward him, extended her arm, her fingers hovering just above his forearm. She moved slightly, grazing him with her fingertips. “I will do whatever you ask of me.”

He was hard as rock in an instant. His body’s reaction nearly made him laugh. If she planned to use seduction to make her case then he would win, no question. She would never be able to bring herself to go through with it. And he would have the chance of watching her recoil in horror when she saw the extent of his injuries.

More than the injuries, it was the horror she would feel when she caught a glimpse of the man beneath the iron control. Hollowed out. Unfeeling. Left damaged and bleeding, wounds that would never heal into the blessed, hardened scars that had formed on the outside of his body. There was nothing whole left in him. All he had left was the will to go on, to rule his country, to do as his father would have wanted. As his brother would have done. Anything more was too much. Impossible.

Katharine braced herself. For him to yell. For him to do … something befitting a man with his reputation.

The idea of a temporary marriage had only just come into her mind, and now, she was desperate for him to take it. Because the idea of staying here, with him, for the rest of her life … she didn’t think she could handle that. The palace felt abandoned, the staff at a minimum and Zahir … his disdain for her presence was palpable.

He almost made her long for her father’s chilly presence.

And if she did marry him in name only, at the end, her job would be done. A feasible term instead of the life sentence she’d always imagined. A glimmer of hope she hadn’t realized she’d wanted.

If she could change things … if she could give Alexander time to grow up then she and Zahir could divorce and everything would be set to move forward smoothly.

She could do something else. Be someone else.

Her pulse pounded in her temples. She hadn’t really let herself hope for that outcome. That her marriage to Zahir really could be nothing more than paper. A paper easily destroyed later.

“A legal marriage only,” he said, his voice hard.

“So much the better,” she said, trying to keep the relief from showing through in her tone. “We can both go our separate ways later. And this way we preserve the peace between our nations.” She started pacing, nervous energy demanding that she find a way to relieve it. “And when we do separate it will be amicable, naturally, so the link between Austrich and Hajar will remain strong.”

Zahir turned his head slightly and she realized he was tracking her movements that way. She’d forgotten about his sight for a moment. Or at least the issue she’d assumed he had with his sight. She truly didn’t know for sure.

“It must look real,” he said.

She inclined her head. “Of course it must, if not like a love match, then like a permanent marriage. To my father, to John, to Alexander. None of them can know.”

His upper lip curled slightly. “My people cannot know.”

She realized then that it was a matter of his pride. She felt a slight pang in her chest. This would cost him, this man who lived in the shadows. But she couldn’t even contemplate what the consequences would be if she didn’t pull this off.

“No one,” she said, her pledge to him.

“You will remain here.”

“What?”

“What did you imagine would happen?”

“I had thought … my father is ill. I had thought to return home.”

“Ah, and you do not think anyone will see that as strange? That my new wife has abandoned me?” He reached out and curled his fingers around her arm, just above her elbow, his black eyes burning into hers even as her flesh felt branded by his touch. “No one will know.”

She explored his face visually for a moment. The ravaged skin, the slashing scar that interrupted the shape of his top lip. He could not be called handsome, not now. But he was compelling, fierce. And for a moment she was almost overcome by the desire to skim her fingers over his ruined cheek, to feel the damage for herself.

She clenched her hand into a fist and kept it glued to her side. “You have my word, Sheikh Zahir.”

“As tradition dictates, you will stay here in the palace to cement the engagement,” he said. She could tell that cost him. That he truly didn’t want her here. She also knew that he wanted to keep up appearances.

She swallowed hard, feeling as though a judge had just lowered the gavel, sentencing her. At least it’s not a life sentence .

“I will stay.” It took every ounce of strength she had to speak, to not shrink away.

But she would use every shred of it that she had in her body to get through this. To see her country—her brother—through. To the other side. For freedom for her people. A new kind of freedom for herself. One where duty to the masses wasn’t so much more important than living her own life.

It was a dream. And yet it was a dream that kept her going. That spurred her on now. She would rest later. She would have the chance to, something she’d not thought possible.

“I was planning on staying,” she said. “For a while at least.”

“I know, I saw your procession of belongings coming in earlier.”

“It was too important. I wasn’t going to back down.”

“Why is it so important to you? Why are you the one who has to solve this? A matter of honor?” He regarded her closely, and she knew he truly wanted an answer.

“What would you do to ensure Malik’s success, Zahir? If he lived, what would you do to make sure that he was able to fulfill his destiny? To make sure he was safe?”