For the entire flight to my childhood home, I sorted through emails on my laptop, desperate to keep the conversation with Father as infrequent as possible.

But as king, he had other duties to attend to. While he locked himself in the suite on the private plane, fielding whatever issues were ailing the country that he ran, I did the same with my work. I wasn’t as productive as I would have been at the office, with the constant turbulence and the staff’s eagerness to cater to my every need, but I did get enough done to feel somewhat accomplished by the time the plane landed.

As the plane touched the ground, I drew in a sharp breath, and a sinking sensation weighed in my gut. The plane slowed, and the moment the “fasten seatbelt sign” turned off, I clicked the buckle open and stood up.

The door to Father’s suite opened a few seconds later, and he strode past me with his staff right behind him.

I hadn’t bothered to change into the more traditional clothes that Father would have preferred. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just wanted to show him that this particular part of our world wasn’t fit for me.

I would only be able to get away with so much before Mother got involved and imposed her will on me, too. So, I took hold of my independence for as long as I could.

Outside, the temperature was much warmer than it had been in the UK. Beads of sweat appeared on my forehead after only a few seconds of being outside.

I dropped my sunglasses over my eyes as I disembarked the plane. There was already a car waiting for us, and Father was inside. I nodded at the man holding the door open for me as I slipped into the backseat.

A blast of cold air clung to my face, and I had a brief memory of how it felt back in England. As much as I enjoyed thawing out, I would have preferred to be there instead of here. I’d spent the last few years avoiding this moment. It had finally arrived, and I still wasn’t ready.

Father didn’t wait long until he started in again. I knew his whole “month” scenario wouldn’t play out. Now that we were back on his turf, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise about how much I didn’t want to follow in his footsteps.

“I spoke with my advisors, and they are on board with you taking my place,” he said.

I turned to the window, gritting my teeth. I tried to focus on the landscape and how different it was from the beautiful English buildings that I was accustomed to.

Father went on about the importance of running the country and how he saw me taking the reins. I nodded my head and spoke one-syllable responses where it was appropriate. But he knew my stance already. I didn’t want this. No amount of pressure was going to make me accept it without a fight.

Today wasn’t the day to fight. Even though he promised me a month to make my decision—which was already made—I would wait until then to push harder to keep my life as I wanted it.

I didn’t want to ruin the time I had with Mother and Abir, so I allowed him to say whatever he wanted and to get his ideas out of his head.

Even from a young age, Father tended to lecture me, forcing me into a cut-out path that he designed. As much as I appreciated everything he’d given to me, I still wanted my own life.

The decision for me to come to England had taken months of preparation and many talks to convince him finally. I was pretty sure he thought if he gave me the opportunity to make my own life, I would come back when the time was right.

In actuality, it was the opposite. Now that I had experienced independence from the throne, I never wanted to come back to rule. Father knew this, so he pushed the guilt as hard as he could. He didn’t know that I inherited his stubbornness, and I would fight him until the bitter end.

The one-sided conversation with Father lasted the majority of the ride to the palace.

When the palace gates opened in front of the car, Father went silent. It was my opportunity to show him that this wasn’t a request I was about to bow down to. But I waited until the car stopped in front of the steps before giving my last words.

“Father, thank you for repeating how important this position is to our country, but at this point, my decision is firm. You promised me the month, and I will take it until the very last second.”

Father didn’t look at me, but a small smile touched his lips.

I wasn’t expecting him to frown or cry over it, but the smile was a surprise. It was the one that he always gave before giving punishment for one of my misbehaviors as a child. It was an “I know better than you” expression, and it settled into my stomach like a spoiled meal.

The doors opened on either side of the car, and Father got out first.

Stepping out into the blazing sun and heat again, I quickly rounded the car, knowing the staff would handle my suitcase.

I’d packed light, not intending to stay very long, but that didn’t matter too much. I had a full closet of clothes in my chambers, and the palace had plenty of staff to get me whatever I desired.

Father already had two of his advisors flanking him on either side. At least when he was busy with the country’s affairs, he’d get off my back for a little bit. Once we stepped through the doors of the palace, Father went off to his drawing room, and my tense shoulders loosened slightly.

The palace staff bustled around the expansive hallways, but none of them spoke or made eye contact with me. It was the way Father wanted. I would have to change that if he forced me to become king.

I shook my head, banishing those ridiculous thoughts from my mind. I wasn’t going to become king. Not in a million years.

There were other succession options, but I knew Father wouldn’t even consider them until pushed to the absolute brink.

Walking in the opposite direction from Father’s drawing room, I went in search of Mother and Abir.

Knowing where they would be, I walked with purpose down the long hallways and across the glittering marble floors with intricate gold overlays. Being in England for so long with the bleak weather and the different style of houses and buildings, coming home to the palace made everything seem brighter, enough that I yearned to wear my sunglasses again.

Mother would never approve, so I didn’t entertain the option. I merely squinted my eyes until they adjusted instead.

The New Year celebration would take place tonight, and Mother always went above and beyond. It was a time to celebrate family and close friends, and she never skimped on the festivities.

I found her and Abir in the Great Hall, overseeing the staff transforming the banquet space into the most lavishly decorated room in the palace.

Abir was the first to see me. “Luke!” He hurried over to me and reached his hand out to shake mine.

“I see you’ve been eating well,” I said, releasing his hand. “You’ve grown nearly a foot since I’ve seen you last.”

Abir raked a hand through his thick black hair. I wondered what Mother thought of his unkempt look, but I had a feeling she was more preoccupied with the party than her youngest son’s current hairstyle. Though, I knew that she’d make sure he was presentable tonight.

“You don’t look like you’re eating enough,” Abir said, poking my arm.

With work encompassing most of my life, I had to schedule a time to eat or else it wouldn’t happen at all.

Mother would change that during my stay. The regimented eating times were strict, and sitting down with Father and Abir was non-negotiable. It wasn’t the first time since the flight that I wanted to go back to England and live life under my terms.

Mother ended her conversation with one of the staff members and walked over to me. Her round face broke into a broad smile. “Dear Luke,” she said. “I’ve missed you so.”

I kissed her cheeks and sighed. “It’s good to be home.” It wasn’t a complete lie, and it satisfied her enough.

“This year will bring good fortune with both my sons here,” she said.

Abir stood straighter and clasped his hands behind his back. He resembled Father more than I ever would. I imagined him being a different kind of leader, but not the type that Qatar needed to succeed Father.

The thought rustled around in my gut before I attempted to shove it away. I had thirty days before I had to deal with that.

At the very least, the party would distract me from the pressure for a little while.

“Go to your chamber to get cleaned and changed for dinner,” Mother said. “The celebrations will begin shortly after.”

I nodded, not fighting those orders.

* * *

The rest of the day was a whirlwind. I barely had time to take a breath after eating before the guests arrived. They came in droves to the palace, and Abir and I escorted them into the Great Hall.

Catching up with relatives was the highlight of the party. While it hadn’t been publicly announced that Father was stepping down, there were many questions about my future role in the kingdom. I dodged any direct questions, much to our guests’ dismay, but I couldn’t give any of them fodder for rumors until everything was set in stone.

So much for distraction.

After a difficult time with Mother’s uncle, who was set in the old ways of the country, I looked for a break from the conversation.

Finding Mother nearby, I excused myself and went over to her.

“The party is beautiful,” I said to her.

She nodded her head. “Another success.”

“I agree,” I said.

“Speaking of succession—”

“Not you too,” I said with a groan.

“I have not said my piece,” she said.

“You’re the only one aside from Abir who hasn’t,” I said. “Might as well get it over with.”

“What is your hesitation?” she asked. “It’s an honor.”

“It is,” I said, unwilling to argue with her as I had with Father. She knew I didn’t want to be king, but there were plenty of people nearby listening, and I wasn’t going to give away any family discord.

“Then what is bothering you?” she asked.

“Nothing is bothering me,” I returned.

“I know you,” she said softly. “But I won’t pry. You’re old enough to make your own choices. I just hope you make the right ones.”

I knew she wasn’t going to be any help in the situation. Not that I thought she would be. I was indeed on my own, and I hated the feeling.

A group of women walked by, and one of them craned her neck in our direction. Mother bowed her head, and the girl glanced at me before looking back down at her hands.

“Her name is Ghalia,” Mother said.

“Don’t start with this, too,” I warned.

“I want to see you happy,” she said. “You’re thirty-three. Your father and I were married for years at that point.”

“He was also the king,” I said. “Besides, I have no intention of starting a relationship anytime soon. My life is too chaotic as it is.”

“Life isn’t worth living unless you can share it with someone you love,” she said and then walked away, ending the conversation.

I headed in the opposite direction, hoping that I was done with any talks of the future, at least for the rest of the night.