“My, don’t you look lovely.”

Jasmina dabbed the corner of her eye, where a black splotch stained her pristine handkerchief. When she looked in the mirror, an ancient pair of eyes locked onto her own.

“Thanks, Asha,” she said, her voice dull.

“I know that doesn’t really matter today, but it is the truth. Your father was always a believer in telling the truth.”

“Yes,” Jasmina sighed. “He most certainly was.”

She stood still, her eyes combing over the black dress and veil she had chosen for her father’s funeral. Just two weeks before that moment, she had almost allowed herself to believe that she could be considered normal. The last conversation she had had with her father forced its way back to the front of her mind, torturing her once again.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just go to university here in El Jayiah,” the Sheikh said, nearly stamping his foot in frustration.

Jasmina stood her ground, refusing to give in. She had made up her mind, and she knew what she had to do.

“Papa, I want to see the world. If I am to take over from you one day, don’t you think I should see how others live their lives, how we can find unity through our diverse human existence?”

“Don’t use flowery words with me, Jasmina. You are the future Sheikha of El Jayiah. Don’t you think it’s important that you get an education here, among your own people? You know, the ones you will be ruling over?”

Jasmina sighed. She knew in that moment that her father would never accept her decision, and that she in turn would never accept his desire to control her actions. She took a step back, a symbolic gesture as much as a physical one.

“I am going to school in America, Papa. I’m sorry you don’t agree with it. I know you have the power to cut off my funds if you want, but I don’t believe you will. I want to see what life is like somewhere else before I devote my life to our people. I want to come in with a more global perspective. Can you not, as leader of this nation, at least try and see the logic in that?”

Her father’s eyes were heavy as he stared at her in silence. In that moment he looked so much older, his hair grayer, his wrinkles more pronounced. When had her father aged so quickly?

“You are exactly like your mother,” he said finally, though his frown stayed firmly in place. “She would have given you her blessing.”

Jasmina stepped forward then, wrapping her youthful hands around her father’s, her eyes beseeching as she gazed up into his beloved face.

“Then why won’t you?”

The Sheikh’s eyes were tinged with red, as though he had held back a lifetime of tears for the good of his nation. He was a kind and benevolent ruler, and Jasmina had long admired him in so many ways. His shoulders sagged, and while Jasmina knew she had won, it didn’t feel like much of a victory in that moment.

“I’ve never told you the story about how your mother died,” he said, and Jasmina stood back, aghast.

He had never brought up her mother’s death, ever. She had gleaned bits and pieces from the kitchen staff as a child, but Jasmina had never really known how her mother had met her untimely fate, just months after she was born. The Sheikh sat on a nearby chaise, patting the spot next to him, and Jasmina obediently took a seat beside him.

“Your mother was an adventurer, always looking toward the horizon. Before we met, she had visited almost every country in the world. It was part of what attracted me to her in the first place—she was so exotic and daring. She was unlike anyone I ever met.”

He opened his palm, and Jasmina placed her hand into his, squeezing tight. She couldn’t tell if she wanted him to stop his story or continue. She knew how it ended, after all. She’d been motherless her entire life.

“About six months after you were born, she became so restless,” the Sheikh continued. “She felt as though she needed to find herself again, if only for a moment. She traveled to Gabon, taking a week-long safari trip while Asha looked after you, and I was dealing with a particularly tricky military situation along the southern border. As soon as she came back, I could tell something was wrong.”

He lowered his head, and Jasmina stared out into space, trying to imagine the face she had seen in a million photographs leaving her behind to go on an adventure.

“The illness spread quickly. There was nothing the doctors could do—they’d never seen anything like it before. Two days after she returned, she was gone, and you and I were left here, alone.”

He looked up then, searching his daughter’s eyes for a hint of understanding.

“So you see now why letting you go will be one of the hardest things I have to do. When she left, I never saw her again. Not the way she was before. If anything were to happen to you Jasmina, I don’t know what I would do.”

Jasmina squeezed his hand again.

“Papa, I am not my mother. Not everyone who leaves this place will come back broken. I promise you I will return better than I am now, and I will even bring you presents.”

She grinned, hoping that she would lighten his mood. When he continued to glower, her small smile faded.

“One has to make sacrifices as a royal, Jasmina. You have a duty to your people. If you do not honor duty, you will never have their respect.”

“And that duty means that I must never leave?”

“I’m not saying that…”

“I think that’s exactly what you’re saying,” Jasmina said, releasing his hand and rising.

“You have kept me here all these years because you were scared that I would meet the same fate as my mother. What you don’t understand is that I have my own life to lead. I am not her. When I come back, you will understand that.”

“Why do you think I never remarried?”

It was an unexpected question, and Jasmina stepped a little closer toward the door. They had already covered ground she did not want to think about that day. Why would her father’s love life come up in this conversation at all?

“Because you never found the right person?” Jasmina hedged, and the Sheikh shook his head.

“I never remarried because I never wanted to pitch another heir to fight with you for the throne. I wanted it to be yours and yours alone. Another woman would have wanted a child, and I refused. I gave that up because I believe that duty to our country comes first. Now what do you have to say?”

“You’re trying to make me guilty for decisions that you made, and I won’t be manipulated in such a way. You could have remarried, and I would have been fine either way. I am allowed to leave this country, and I will be fine. I do not wish to quarrel with you any longer. I leave for the States in the morning, and I wanted to give you a nice farewell before I do. Will you give me that?”

The Sheikh turned away from her, and Jasmina’s heart broke into a thousand pieces.

“You disappoint me, Jasmina. I thought you were ready to rule this nation when I am gone. Clearly I am wrong.”

The room filled with loaded silence as Jasmina fought back a rush of tears at his words. Swallowing them, she took a breath.

“I guess that’s that, then. Perhaps I will show you just what kind of leader I can be when I return.”

The Sheikh said nothing, his back still turned.

“Goodbye, Papa.”

With that, Jasmina turned and walked out of the room. True to her word, she left for college the very next morning, flying halfway across the world to New York to attend school. She never told anyone there about her status, wanting to be treated like everyone else.

Her whole world had opened up at college, just as she’d imagined it would, and she experienced four of the best years of her life. She’d written to her father often, and from time to time she would get a curt response. She comforted herself by thinking that she would prove to him that she would be a great Sheikha one day—an even better one for living abroad and seeing the world with new eyes.

Then the phone rang in the middle of that terrible night.

“Jasmina?”

Her father’s most trusted advisor, Javir, sounded shaken and frightened. Jasmina bolted upright in her bed, her dark eyes filled with fear.

“What is it, Javir? Why are you calling?”

There was a heavy pause before he broke the news.

“It’s your father. He’s had a heart attack and is in critical condition. We need you to return to El Jayiah immediately. There might not be much time.”

Jasmina’s heart fluttered, her stomach twisting into knots as she pulled back her comforter and began to get dressed.

“I’ll be on the next plane.”

“Thank you, Jasmina. I hope…” he choked on his sentence, and Jasmina moved faster.

“I’ll be there soon. Please…tell my father to hold on.”

She tossed a few items into a small suitcase, hesitating for a moment as she stared at her petition to graduate.

She was only a month shy of earning her degree, with high honors. Jasmina’s face crunched with emotion as she turned away from her school books, knowing she would not be graduating if her father needed her to stay. The flight back to El Jayiah was one of the longest of her life, her nails chewed down to the cuticles, the jagged edges bleeding by the time the plane touched down in her tiny homeland.

When Jasmina stepped onto the tarmac, there was a small gathering of men in black suits waiting for her in front of a black car. The sky was inky black, which was fitting, as Jasmina stared into somber faces—eyes that refused to quite meet her gaze.

Javir stepped forward with clasped hands.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing before her.

She stared in shock as all of the men around him followed suit, bowing before her.

“Javir…” she said, barely trusting the sound of her voice.

When he looked back up, she saw true sorrow in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. You are too late. The Sheikh has passed away. You are the new ruler of El Jayiah.”

A sob tore from Jasmina’s throat as she collapsed on the ground, weeping in agony. She had told her father that she would come back and prove to him that she could be so much more than he imagined. He wasn’t supposed to die before she could get back! What was she going to do?

Painful memories rushed through her head as Asha gently shook her back to the horrible, surreal present.

“It’s time, my love. The procession will begin in a few moments.”

Jasmina met her gaze in the mirror again, and she steeled herself for what was to come.

Duty to our country comes first.

That was what he had said.

Jasmina hoped that she would make him proud on such a terrible day.