“A few weeks isn’t a lot of time,” she said.
“No, it’s not,” Wasim said, his cheekbones sharpening with grief. He sighed heavily. “I’m angry that he’s skipping over me, but at the same time I feel as if I’ve let him down. He’s always mentioned his desire for me to marry, and I didn’t. Now this happens. Yasmin is married with a child and another on the way, and even Akmal seems to have found someone.”
“What? I didn’t know Akmal was getting married,” Imani said.
“I understand your shock. He can be quite irresponsible, but he’s had his eye on a member of the royal family in Jordan. The families have been in talks, and now they’re in the middle of negotiating the nikah,” he said.
“If Akmal, who is younger than you is on his way to getting married, what’s stopping you? And that’s not a rhetorical question. Why haven’t you married? Why don’t you have any prospects?”
“I’m like you. I haven’t found the right person yet.”
She glanced out the window and then looked at him again. “What are you going to do, Wasim?”
“What can I do? I don’t have time to find a wife to put my father’s mind at ease. And then thinking about everything I have to do with him dying…” He swallowed down the pain. “The truth is, there is too much work to be done to worry about marriage. His administration and the family and I need to focus in the coming weeks. We don’t have much time. I will do whatever I can to give my father peace of mind and work with his successor as he wishes to use me.”
They both fell silent, each in their own thoughts. Imani was in a state of shock. King Khalid was dying and Wasim, his presumptive successor, would not succeed him.
Then she had an idea—wild and radical and completely outrageous, but…it might work, in both their favors.
She lowered her voice so that if anyone stood near the open door, they couldn’t hear. “This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out.”
“I’m listening.”
She leaned toward him. “We could help each other. You want the throne and want your father to pass in peace. You can’t have him worrying about the kingdom in his last days, and he admitted he thought you’d be a great ruler. I need my parents to leave me alone instead of trying to force a man on me that I don’t want. A man who will probably try to keep me from accomplishing all the goals I have because I’ll be tied down as his wife and mother of his children. Here is my solution: We should pretend to be engaged.”
Wasim stared at her. “Pretend?”
“Yes. Think about it. I’m a noblewoman—a member of the royal family of Zamibia, one of Barrakesch’s most trusted allies. I’m accomplished, I know your family, and they know me and my character.” She stopped talking and waited for his response.
He frowned doubtfully. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes.”
“You’re not talking about actually getting married, but pretending we want a future together?”
Imani nodded.
“And then when my father passes…?”
“We wait a while and then split up, going our separate ways, amicably. What do you think?”
6
He thought she was crazy.
Despite that, Imani’s idea could work. Though Wasim hated to think about it, his father only had a few weeks to live. He’d considered putting together a list of potential wives, but the truth was, he didn’t want to get married now, and with less than a week to find someone before his father’s announcement, that idea had quickly been dismissed.
But this idea—pretending he and Imani were going to get married—would allow him to accomplish everything he wanted to—take the throne which was rightfully his and ease his father’s concerns.
“We already know a lot about each other,” Imani continued, pressing her advantage. “How many siblings do I have?”
“Six brothers,” Wasim answered.
“What’s my favorite color?”
“Lavender, though gold runs a close second.”
“What’s the one thing I want to accomplish more than anything else?”
“You want to close the deal on the oil drilling project.”
“See, you know me.” She grinned at him.
“And you know me.” He sighed heavily and thrust his fingers through his thick hair. “I wish we didn’t have to do this. I wish I had more time.”
Imani stretched her fingers toward him but quickly pulled back and let her hand fall to the seat beside her.
His jaw tightened because he wanted her comforting touch, but he understood her reluctance. Though no one could see them, they adhered to the rules of the country when here. They were not married. Except to shake hands, they were not supposed to touch.
“I can’t remember the last time I lied to my father,” Wasim said quietly.
Imani looked at him with kind and thoughtful eyes. “Don’t think of it as a lie. You deserve to be king, Wasim. There is no one else better to lead the country than you. Your father knows this, so think of what we plan to do as a way to give King Khalid the peace that he needs. ”
The plan involved deception but would be best for both he and Imani, as well as his father, and allow Wasim time to concentrate on learning as much as he could before having to take control of the kingdom. He would be the one to lead his country into the next decades. He would be the one to take up the mantle of his father’s projects and see them through to the end. And he would be the one to continue their lineage when he found the right wife.
There was so much for him to learn, and the expectations would begin right away—had already begun. The past two days had been filled with private meetings between Wasim, his father, and his father’s closest advisors.
“Your parents would be pleased. Your potential husband would be a future king instead of a businessman.”
“Certainly an upgrade, and would get them off my back for a while. When you and I break up, I’m sure they’ll leave me alone so I can nurse my broken heart. There’s so much I could accomplish during that period.”
“What about your Senegalese suitor?” Wasim asked, the thought of her and any other man souring his stomach.
“He’s not a problem now, and we could start dating and getting to know each other later.”
Wasim stood and moved restlessly, rubbing the back of his neck. “So we break up, at a time of our choosing?”
“Yes. Amicably, of course.”
“There is one problem that we haven’t considered. You’re not Muslim, and while my father and aunt probably won’t have a problem with that, there are conservatives in the Parliament who would. Any chance you’d be willing to convert to Islam?”
“Any chance you’d be willing to convert to Christianity?” She arched a brow.
Wasim let out a soft laugh, the first since he’d received the bad news from his father. “We’re not really getting married, so it shouldn’t be a problem. But I thought you should be prepared for some backlash.”
She tilted her chin higher. “I can handle it. So we’re all set. You’ll get your birthright, and when you’re ready you’ll find and marry that intelligent, obedient woman who’s good with kids.”