A throng of well-dressed guests once again thronged the reception hall, which, like the rest of the place, was decked in festive colors in honor of the Emir Sheikh’s impending marriage to Princess Safiya. It was reminiscent of another wedding not so long ago, but unlike before – the mood that blanketed the palace was bleak and gray. It had been so for two months now, ever since a woman who had been the kingdom’s queen for so short a time had chosen to break her heart rather than risk the lives of her people.

Altair checked his watch after seeing the last of the wedding’s guests herded to the mosque. It was time. He nodded at his second-in-command, and in the span of three seconds the palace was officially in lockdown, all the way to the outermost gates. Although the palace had remained impregnable the day of the attack, the kingdom’s Commander of Armed Forces still held himself responsible for all those injured during the rabble, and he was determined not to let the same mistake happen again.

Upon receiving their signals from Altair, Malik and Rayyan departed from their posts, the former to fetch the bride from her chamber, the latter to inform the Emir Sheikh that he could now take his place at the mosque.

It took them only mere moments to return to the mosque – unaccompanied. They went straight to Altair, whose scarred face become grimmer as he received their news. Another moment later, Tarif – the last of the king’s most trusted vassals to make an appearance – strode down to join them, an opened packet on his hands.

There was a short, terse discussion, and by now the audience – all of whom had avidly followed the sheikhs’ movements – was agog with curiosity. A red-faced Mahmud, sensing that things were about to go awry, began marching towards the other sheikhs, only to be blocked by the palace’s guards.

“Where is the king?” he bellowed. “Is he thinking of going against his word?”

The chattering noise quickly rose at his blustering, and the four other sheikhs soon faced him in unison, only staring at him in implacable silence.

Mahmud’s next words died in his throat, fear getting the better of him, and when Altair started towards him, the older sheikh couldn’t help backing away. But it was too late, and soon, the kingdom’s highest-ranking general was upon him.

“You are to quietly return to your seat,” Altair said very quietly, “and you will stay there until I say otherwise. You will not want to experience the consequences if you do not heed me.” Altair stepped back and smiled.

Not good, the soldiers who saw this thought right away. Everyone who knew the general would know that a scowling Altair was always better than a smiling one.

Mahmud seemed to know this, too, as the older sheikh paled considerably.

“Do we have an understanding, sheikh?”

“Y-yes.”

Meanwhile, the palace’s staff was quickly setting up a digital screen by the dais, and another wave of curiosity stirred up the crowd. What could possibly this be about?

A moment later, the screen lit up, revealing the larger-than-life figure of the Emir Sheikh standing alone in the throne room.

Brothers and sisters of the Kingdom of Ramil, I would like to express my sincerest apology, as the wedding you have made precious effort to witness will no longer proceed.

There was a squawk of anger coming from Mahmud, but this was quickly silenced after a deadly look coming from Altair.

Two months ago, the palace received grave news of a possible terrorist threat, one that suspiciously coincided with what should have been my first council meeting with the sheikhs of Ramil. It also came to my knowledge that certain members of this government had planned to use the council to put forward a motion for my abdication – unless I took a full-blooded Ramilian woman like Princess Safiya as my second wife.

Gasps erupted in the mosque, along with numerous accusing glances thrown at Mahmud’s way from the locals.

As you no doubt know, the council had been postponed, and as confirmed by our own news outlets, the threat to our security remains. With such factors to consider, I am strongly aware that our kingdom is at a tenuous position and cannot afford any kind of divisiveness. But despite this – I also know I cannot be the king that you – my people – need me to be if I were to abandon the woman I love for the sake of our kingdom.

The kingdom of Ramil is my life, but Harper Griffiths is my heart. Both of you are of equal importance to me, and yet in fearing that I would fail my people, I have failed her.

The digital screen showed the sheikh breathing harshly after this, and the sound of sniffing started to fill the mosque.

Even if she were to forgive me for this, I cannot be certain I’ll ever forgive myself for it.

And whether or not she accepts me is immaterial.

She is the only woman I will love. She is the only queen I can ever have.

* * *

On the other side of the world, Harper was staring ashen-faced as the live broadcast of what should have been the Emir Sheikh’s wedding continued playing out.

You, my people, have always been unwavering in your trust in me, and I thank you for this.

But this time, I would like to place my trust in you.

Now that the truth is out in the open, there is no saying that when I return, I will still be your king.

Even so – I trust that this will not make our kingdom fall. I trust in your ability to remain strong and brave in the face of adversity.

The world thinks the kingdom is strong because I’m the one sitting on the throne, but I trust you to prove them wrong. Our nation is strong because of its people – because of you. Ramil will remain strong even if I serve it without a crown or even if another man takes the throne.

But there can only be one woman for me, and---

Harper shut the TV closed and threw the remote away.

No more, no more.

She pulled her knees to herself and squeezed her eyes shut.

Images started to form, images she didn’t want to see---

And she quickly pressed her hands to her eyes, willing the darkness to cover the images.

No more, no more.

But it was no use.

And the tears started to fall.

Oh God, what did he think he was doing? Did he really think she’d want him to throw it all away for her?

A knock sounded on her door, and Harper hastily wiped her tears away, knowing it was the AFK returning from their grocery trip. She had done all she could to persuade them to leave, but the trio had still insisted on camping in her living room and carrying out their duties as her bodyguards.

But when she opened the door---

Harper promptly tried to shut the door on the sheikh’s face, but his reflexes were far quicker than hers, the sheikh managing to hold the door back and force his way in.

He was here. The sheikh was here. Khalil was here.

He was dressed in the same cream thobe she had glimpsed from the TV, but he looked a lot thinner, his handsome face bearing an unusual sense of gauntness.

She suddenly realized he was locking the door, and it was enough to make her recover from her shock. “How can you even be here?”

He turned around to face her again before answering. “What you watched was a pre-recording.”

“O-oh.” What did that mean? What could that mean?

“You’re wondering how long I had known the wedding wouldn’t push through?” He saw her eyes widen and smiled grimly. “Your face says everything your lips do not speak of, qalifa. And it may not seem like it, but I know you better than you think---”

“If that’s true,” she said unevenly, “then you should know what I want you to do now.”

Silence.

And she knew she had hurt him.

Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sor---”

“Don’t apologize.”

“But I hurt you.”

He smiled humorlessly. “And I didn’t?”

Harper dug her fingers into her palms. “You d-didn't mean to.”

His jaw hardened. “I’m the one who have a million things to apologize for.”

“No---”

“I should never even have asked you to stay and tolerate another wife.”

The savage self-contempt in the sheikh’s voice made Harper dug her fingers deeper into her palms, made her wish she had sharper, longer nails that could hurt her more – hurt her so much that she would no longer notice the way her battered heart had started to beat again, and just because he was here---

When they both knew he couldn’t stay.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she whispered.

“You didn’t have to. You would never have to---”

“I don’t want to wake up one day and have you hate me because of what you lost.”

“It would never happen.” She started shaking her head and Khalil’s tone became fiercer. “Did you think I didn’t try to see if I could live without you? I tried. I fucking tried. I had to. Being the king was all that meant to me my entire life, but the two months you were gone---”

“I don’t want to hear any more!”

Harper tried to run away, but the sheikh hauled her into his arms.

“No more!”

She shoved him away, and when it didn’t work, she beat his chest as hard as he could, forcing him to capture her wrists and lock them behind her wrists.

“Harper---”

She was crying, the tears silently rushing down her cheeks, and the sheikh flinched.

“I know it would be better if I leave you alone,” he said roughly. “I know you’re going to suffer more when you’re with me. But I just can’t live without you---”

Harper squeezed her eyes shut. “Please. Please stop this.”

“Every time I tried to thought of another day without you by my side, the fucking air around me changes---”

“PLEASE STOP.”

“And I can’t breathe---”

“Please.” Harper was sobbing now. “Please stop doing this---”

“My heart doesn’t beat right---”

“I don’t want to go back,” Harper screamed.

The sheikh turned ashen, and she nearly broke apart at the look of devastation on his face. She didn’t want to hurt him like this. She loved him, loved him more than she loved anything. But she also knew he could only be himself when he was king---

“Y-you heard me, so stop this. I don’t want to go back---”

The sheikh started shaking his head.

Harper bit her lip hard. “I will never want to go back---”

He released her wrists to grip her shoulders hard. “YOU DO. You do, damn you.” But the desperation in his tone, the wildness in his gaze, told both of them he didn’t seem to believe this any more than she did. “You have to come back to me because I love you---” He stared at her, willing her to say the words that would tell him he still had hope.

But she only cried as she shook her head---

And the sheikh slid to his knees.

A painful gasp escaped her. “Khalil, no---”

He stared up at her. “You’re my other half, Harper.”

Her hands flew to her mouth.

“Not the throne. Not the kingdom. But you. Just you.”

But this time, the sheikh’s tone was dull, and pain strangled her throat at the sound of it. He wasn’t supposed to be this hurt. He was supposed to be able to move on because he had the kingdom, and wasn’t that the most precious thing to him?

“So I’ll say it again.”

His own voice shook, and a shuddering sob wrecked her body at the sound of it.

“And this time – this time, your answer will be different.”

But in his eyes, she could see only emptiness, could see that the sheikh no longer believed in what he was saying---

“I love you.”

Words that were whispered as if it was the only thing the sheikh could live for, words spoken with such pain that it vanquished all her fears and made her legs give out.

Oh God.

He had meant it.

This man loved her more than his throne, his kingdom---

More than everything---

And Harper threw her arms around him. I love you. She cupped his face and wept harder at the sight of his own tear-stained eyes. I love you. She pressed her lips to his own. I love you.