“The very one. I had some time to reconsider.”
She clasped her hands in front of her. She looked very pale, her frame delicate, small. But there was steel in her eyes, a strength he had underestimated. His mistake. She had shown her steel. The way she’d kept Aden, cared for him, concealed him out of concern for his safety.
Sayid had seen the emotion as pure weakness, but there was steel beneath it. Still, the depth of her caring for Aden put her at his mercy, and he would not hesitate to use his position to get what he wanted.
“And have you reconsidered?” she asked.
“As it happens, I have.”
She froze for a moment, total shock evident on her face. “You have?”
He nodded. “You were right. Aden needs more than I can give him. I’m not someone who is going to spend time in the nursery. Not the type of man who would ever throw a ball around in the garden with a child. I’m not going to get excited over poorly drawn pictures or hang finger paintings on the wall in my office, and I will not insult you by pretending otherwise.”
“Is this supposed to be encouraging in some way?”
“I am,” he said, walking toward her, “acknowledging that your help will be needed in Aden’s upbringing.”
Chloe’s knees started shaking and she gripped the back of one of the plush chairs in front of her to keep from revealing it. “That’s… good.”
“I thought you would see that.”
“Of course I do, I suggested it.”
Sayid’s dark eyes met hers. “In a sense. But the situation, the concerns, I pointed out earlier have not changed. If we are to ensure that the fiction of Aden’s birth remains intact, then there are certain safeguards we need in place.”
“What kind of safeguards?” She didn’t like his tone. It was so smooth, so practiced, and beneath it, a layer of darkness that seemed to coat her, make her tremble with fear and something more. Something she couldn’t put a name to. Something she didn’t want to put a name to.
She hated that it was his darkness that compelled her so. That his darkness drew her, a black flame that she wanted to touch, even knowing what the outcome would be. This was why she’d always avoided men. Why she’d never had a relationship.
“The press has made it plain that they do not think I am fit to raise Aden. Rashid and I were hardly raised by our own parents. Though, Rashid more than I. I rarely lived in the palace, my education taking me elsewhere, my uncle Kalid taking the largest portion of responsibility for my upbringing. However, Rashid married a Western woman. One who had already started changing the way things were done, breaking down the formal social constructs that existed for a thousand years. And no one was sorry to see them go.”
“Tamara would have never let Aden out of her sight, much less out of the palace to be handled only by staff.”
“Precisely.”
“That’s one reason it’s so important for me to stay. To honor her wishes.”
“With all respect for my late sister-in-law, who, though you might find this hard to believe, I had a great deal of admiration for, it is not her wishes that concern me.”
“No?”
“No. Have you seen what they write about me?” he asked.
“Who?”
“The reporters. The Attari news, the world news. Have you seen?”
“No.”
“Man without a heart, they say. A man with no skills in negotiation. One who will make Attar look like nothing more than a military country, lacking in the kind of diplomacy that is so essential in this age. They hate me, Chloe. And under such circumstances, how can I lead?”
“Maybe you should smile more.”
He affected the expression. “That would help, you think?”
She looked at him and grimaced. “No. You still don’t look very friendly.”
“It cannot continue.”
She knew he didn’t mean the smile. “I didn’t think you cared about your image.”
“I don’t. But if this continues, if we start to look too frayed to the outside world… we will become vulnerable to it. We must present a front of absolute unification for our enemies. If there is dissent from within, we will rot from within, and rest assured, the countries we share borders with will happily take advantage of our weakness and watch us crumble.”
He spoke with ferocity, intensity, his dark eyes boring into hers.
“And how do you propose to do that?” she asked, knowing as soon as she asked the question that she wasn’t going to like the answer.
“I intend to propose,” he said, cold humor twisting his lips into a smile that held no warmth or hint of happiness.
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
“It’s very simple, Chloe James. I intend to take you as my wife.”
Chloe felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach, all the air leaching from her body, making her gasp. “What?”
“Not a real wife, you understand. This is about presenting the image of a family to the people. If I am meant to raise Aden as my own, my wife will be expected to treat him as her own. You want to stay, you want that role, so I am giving it to you.”
“But… you want me to marry you?”
“I don’t want you to marry me, I want to protect Aden and give the people what they expect, give them an image that will bring comfort.”
Chloe felt as though her heart was trying to claw its way up her throat. Failing that, she was certain it would beat through her chest. She knew all about marriage. About the dynamic between a husband and wife. About what a man did when he saw a woman as his property.
She knew that not every man was abusive. That not every marriage was marked by violence. She knew it, but in her head, it was all she could see.
The word husband brought forward visions of her father venting his rage on her mother, the woman laying on the floor as he continued to hit her. Kick her. And on the wall behind them was their wedding portrait, the bride in white, smiling lovingly at the man who was now trying to wring the life out of her with his hands.
It was a vision that was with her always, this scene of extreme violence and suffering. It was, now and forever her strongest association with the words husband and wife.
“We won’t have to stay married forever.”
“Just until Aden assumes the throne?” she asked, her tone incredulous.
“Yes. Just until then.”
“So only sixteen years of my life spent married to a man that I don’t even like?”
“I’m spending sixteen years in a position that I don’t want, until Aden is ready to rule. I understand that this isn’t your country, that your loyalty isn’t the same as mine. But your loyalty is to Aden, isn’t it? To giving him what your sister wanted him to have?”
Her heart felt as if it was being torn in two. Visions of her future burning before her, turning to ash and floating away on the wind. And she had to let them burn, along with her fear, because the only other option was leaving Aden behind. Visiting when she could, and otherwise going on with her life as though it hadn’t changed forever.
She couldn’t do that. Had come to that conclusion already.
“Does it have to be marriage? I am Tamara’s half sister. I’m Aden’s aunt. It’s entirely