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“Let me know how it sounds,” she said, her voice muffled from inside the walk-in closet.
The article wasn’t long, and it took Fatim only a matter of minutes to read through the entire thing. But it wasn’t what he’d expect
ed. Not at all. He read it a second time before saying anything—but on the second time around, it made him even madder.
The article title was “A Love for the Ages”. The whole thing was focused on the stunning, epic love of Fatim and Calla. The gala was hardly a background mention. When Calla came out of the closet a moment later, he swung his gaze up to find hers.
“Is this a joke?” he demanded.
Her eyes widened. “Um, sorry?”
“The article. What the hell did you tell the journalist?” He handed her the phone. “This article barely even mentions the gala. Instead, it goes on and on about some mythical fairy-tale romance that we have. How dare you bring our relationship into this!”
Calla’s mouth parted as she read the article, then it turned into a hard line. She tossed his phone onto the bed.
“I didn’t bring our relationship into it,” she said in a low, wavering voice. “In fact, it was hardly mentioned. I’m sure the reporter just thought this would be a nice touch to excite the tribe, not realizing that the king himself is so offended by the idea of love.”
Fatim gritted his teeth. She had no idea what it took to rule this nation, or what sacrifices had to be made to keep it together. That she could just run her mouth about this fantasy made him angrier than he could even articulate. The article had called Calla another “beautiful outsider” married in a “fit of passion.”
“Why did you talk about all of this?” Fatim demanded. “I can’t even believe you’d call what we have a ‘fit of passion.’ When did I ever give you that impression?”
“Trust me,” she spat. “You never have. I think those words are what’s called creative liberty. I never said any of that to him. If I wanted to be accurate, I would have called our relationship what it is—a hastily made business decision because you were backed into a corner.”
Fatim scoffed, but Calla barreled on.
“Besides, what’s so wrong with being seen as in love? I don’t get it. I do love you. I’ve told you as much. It’s not a secret, and it shouldn’t stay one.”
“That doesn’t mean blasting it across the country for everyone to choke on,” Fatim shouted.
Calla put her hands on her hips, staring him down from across the room. She had a blouse in her hand, high-waisted pants stopping just a few inches below her bra. Arguing half-naked, like all couples of the world. “Tell me something, Fatim. Do you love me?”
Fatim turned, feeling a sick wave of something course through him. He knew his answer—yes—which was why he needed to turn away from her. Stop having sex. Put up as many emotional boundaries between them as possible.
“Do you?” Calla reiterated once he’d disappeared into the walk-in closet.
He took a moment before answering, tugging a black kaftan off the hanger. When he emerged, he stared her down. “A good ruler doesn’t fall in love. And I plan on being the best ruler there is.”
Calla huffed and stormed out of the bedroom, blouse in hand. He just watched her go, heart hammering.
She wouldn’t like it, but there was no other option.
This was his tribe. His palace.
His rules.
Love just didn’t fit into the scheme of things.
17
Calla felt like a helium balloon released into the atmosphere. Going up, up, up until one day she just popped. Exploding into a mess of mylar and wasted ascent.
Heartbreak hurt worse from inside a marriage, she decided. Her heart had only been broken once before, but that paled in comparison to this.
And after Fatim delivered the decisive blow, she finally knew the answer to her question about who was the stupid one.
She was. The girl who dared to think that her business relationship could ever turn from temporary to happily-ever-after.
She flitted around for a day, spacy and disoriented, before she knew what the next step had to be. She needed to drop the gala planning, drop all the extra duties that she’d taken on in the name of supporting Fatim, and let him be the ruler he wanted to be. Besides, she had a Fashion Week to prepare for. She’d lost sight of that while falling head over heels for this man.
