One moment later

News channels all over the world were celebrating. For the first time in history, they were televising something that was watched more than the World Cup, Super Bowl, and Oscars’ Red Carpet combined.

“And its global reach is just unbelievable,” a CNN reporter exclaimed. “The 2008 Summer Olympics is nothing compared to the numbers we’re seeing. It seems like the whole world truly believes the results of this election can prove whether two cultures can exist peacefully.”

“It doesn’t hurt at all that the people who have flown in to show their support for Emir Sheikh Khalil Al-Atassi are very familiar faces to the public,” an E! program host remarked.

“You can say that again,” the show’s correspondent agreed fervently.

“Can you give us a rundown on who’s showed up so far?”

“Sure can do.”

“There’s the newly formed Greek Coalition, made up by Stavros Manolis, Kyrillos Gazis, Damen Leventis, Ioniko Vlahos, Acheron Simonides, and Mykolas Sallis. I heard from very good authority that this extremely powerful group of businessmen has stated they’d be withdrawing their support for the Ramilian government if the council votes for the Emir Sheikh’s abdication.”

“What about Contini?”

“Queen Wilhemina has sent none other than her most trusted envoy himself.”

A split screen followed, showing photos of a ridiculously attractive couple, both of them tall, blond, and blue-eyed, and their names – Willem de Konigh and his fiancée Serenity Raleigh – flashing below it.

The female program host sighed. “Those two look too good to be true.”

“A whole other contingency of de Konighs is also here, and luckily for Ramil’s single population, many of them remain eligible.”

“Who else is there?”

“We caught a glimpse of The Pussketeers.”

“Any word on their stand?”

“Firmly on the Emir Sheikh’s side. For those who don’t know, all of Constantijin Kastein’s news companies have published articles sharing the accomplishments of the Emir Sheikh, and he paid for all of it out of pocket. These news editions have been freely distributed in all the hotels owned by Staffan Aehrenthal and the ducal properties of Rathe Wellesley.”

“Impressive!”

“That’s not all of it. Staffan’s wife, Sapphire, was also accompanied by the whole March clan. Her father Senator March, her mother – the Beaufort heiress – and of course, Steel and Silver March.”

“That is one serious show of support for the Emir Sheikh.”

“Understatement of the year,” the correspondent said with a chuckle. “And let’s not forget the other Beasts.”

“Did they all come?”

“Everyone and their plus ones are accounted for. Even Russia sends its love. The Russian Beast came with his whole family in tow – Fyodor, Misha, Vassi, Seri Devereux, and of course Sergei’s wife and infant daughter.”

“All things considering, I don’t see how the Emir Sheikh can possibly lose.”

Harper snorted at the TV host’s statement, muttering, “The only reason she can say that is because she doesn’t know how many idiots make up the council.”

Silence.

And the queen belatedly remembered she wasn’t actually alone but in the throne room, where all of her husband’s supporters had gathered to watch the televised results of the election.

Oh shit.

But this, too, slipped past her lips, and laughter rang out in the throne room.

Harper pretended not to notice her court tutor glaring at her. She was so dead.

From the other throne, the sheikh bent close, saying solemnly, “I will plead your case to your court tutor if you wish.”

“No, thanks.” Knowing him, he would just dig a bigger grave for her.

The sheikh took hold of her hand and frowned at how cold it was to touch. “You are afraid of the results?”

She avoided his gaze, mumbling, “I don’t want you to stop being king because of me.”

“And I don’t want to stop being your husband because of the throne.” The sheikh brought her hand to his lips. “It will be fine, qalifa. Trust me.”

“I do. It’s just that stu---” Shit. She hurriedly corrected herself, saying, “It’s the council I don’t trust.” Harper bit her lip. “Are you sure everyone who could help you get votes has come?”

The sheikh paused. “Well, there is one representative from Japan that I am waiting for to arrive tonight.”

“Japan? Really?” Harper knew she should no longer be surprised at how far-reaching the sheikh’s network was, but she couldn’t help it.

“I am good friends with the Himura family,” the sheikh said.

It was an entirely innocuous statement, save for an unintended effect on two women who happened to overhear the royal couple’s conversation.

Lace took one look at her friend’s face and quickly grabbed KC’s hand and dragged her towards the nearest restroom. And a good thing she did, since they barely made it in time, with KC throwing up the moment she reached the sink.

“Sorry,” Lace whispered guiltily as she held her friend’s hair away from her face while KC continued to make the most horrible retching sounds. “I didn’t know…” She almost slipped, mentioning Yuki Himura’s name, but she managed to stop herself in time.

Outside the restroom, resounding cheers had filled the throne room, with the results finally being announced and the council had voted 120-o in favor of Khalil Al-Atassi remaining Ramil’s king and forever eliminating any possibility of his abdication.

The soldiers assigned to the throne room began chanting.

Long live King Khalil!

Long live Queen Harper!

And when the palace’s PA system began to play the kingdom’s national anthem, the cheers became so raucous that Altair shook his head in a mixture of exasperation and amusement before dismissing his soldiers and granting them an impromptu holiday.

“Where’s the celebrating couple anyway?” Rayyan was the first one to think of asking.

A search was conducted, but it quickly became apparent that the royal couple was nowhere to be found.

“Pretty sure they escaped to fuck,” Staffan Aehrenthal said slyly to his wife.

The other billionaires who overheard this nodded in agreement while their wives tried not to blush.

“Question is,” Jaak de Konigh murmured laconically, “where would they go?”

“The hallways are out of the question, since they’re teeming with reporters,” Damen mused.

“The restroom?” Nathan Callis asked.

“I just came from there,” Silver March answered, “and only Lace and KC were in there.”

“Interesting conundrum,” Misha Grachyov murmured. “But since I doubt they’d brave the crowd to fuck, they have to be here somewhere---”

A sudden, hard thud coming from the little-noticed tool closet at the back of the throne caught everyone’s notice.

A moment later, something that suspiciously sounded like a half-formed whimper followed, like someone trying not to make any noise.

But it was too late.

Through the narrow slits of the tool closet’s door, Harper saw everyone start to smirk---

“Khalil, you bully!” The words came out a part-wail, part-whimper. “You told me they wouldn’t guess---”

But her words ended in a gasp, with the sheikh pounding harder into her from behind, so damn hard that her eyes rolled back and she could only cling helplessly at the slits.

Oh God, it was so, so good.

Willow Manolis was eyeing the size of the tool closet doubtfully. “How long do you think they’ll last there?”

“Good question,” her husband said, eyes gleaming.

And soon, the other billionaires had the same gleam in their eyes.

Mairi Tanner-Leventis was confused. “Am I missing something?”

“We’re going to bet on it,” Damen explained.

“With the proceeds going to charity of course,” Kyrillos said with a straight face.

“But really, it’s just to make the king mad,” Tarif said, and with that, Khalil’s four vassals were the first to place their bets.