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She believed him. Theywouldhave a good marriage. She would damn make sure of it.

****

WEDDING PREPARATIONScommenced the very next day, and Harper was immediately caught up in a whirlwind of activity. There were countless fittings to attend, names and faces to memorize, and then there were the rules.

There were so, so many of them, and worse was how they sometimes clashed against each other. There were rules in Arab culture that did not agree with certain customs distinct to the kingdom of Ramil. There were rules observed in Islam that were not known to Christians. And those just made up the tip of the iceberg, and it didn’t help at all that Harper’s court tutor was adamant that she would not only become familiar but proficient with them as well.

In the other part of the palace, the sheikh continued to receive daily reports on Harper’s activities, and reading it had become his private source of enjoyment. Her impressive progress in engaging in political and economic discussions he already expected, but what pleased the sheikh the most was how Harper never voiced a complaint to him even when her court tutor meted out punishments like she was no different from an ordinary pupil.

The day before the wedding, Harper made her first official appearance outside the palace as the sheikh’s future wife and queen. It was to be a quick visit to the American embassy, and rather than Khalil, she would have Sheikh Altair as her escort.

It was a test, of course, and Harper knew and accepted this.

The sheikh called her while she and Altair were still on the road. “Nervous?” he asked.

“To the point of throwing up,” she said shortly.

“Is there anything I do to ease your anxiety?”

Only one thing came to mind.Maybe an hour of making out?Her face turned red, and she coughed. “Nothing.”

“But it seemed that you’ve already thought of something.”

“Nope.” Shit. Why did her voice sound so squeaky?

“I do not believe you,” the sheikh said huskily. “Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell. Okay?” She heard him start to speak, but this time she didn’t let him. One quick press of a button, and the call had ended.

“Did you just hang up on Khalil?” Sheikh Altair, who was seated across her in the limousine, asked her curiously.

Harper grimaced. “Kinda?” But she had no choice. Khalil would’ve seduced the truth out of her if she hadn’t.

“You know he will not let you get away with that.”

“Yup.” Her tone was half-glum, half-resigned, and Altair smiled. Most women would have been downright terrified, but Harper Griffiths was once again proving herself different from the rest.If she could be this brave with the king, Altair thought,then she should have no problem dealing with the rest of the world.

And Altair was right.

Although Harper’s knees threatened to buckle when it was finally her turn to address the crowd at the embassy, she only allowed herself a quick prayer and several deep breaths before she began with her speech. A small part of Harper expected herself to choke and stammer, but the words flowed out smoothly. And as she gazed at the deployed soldiers in front of her, men who willingly risked their lives for love of country, she remembered her own father, and it was in that moment the words she had merely been reading from a piece of paper became words that came from her heart.

The time you spend away from your loved ones alone makes each and every one of you a hero. The world may not know this, or they may forget it is so, but we won’t. We will always remember, and we thank you for this. Our future is made safer and brighter because of you.

A resounding applause followed the end of Harper’s speech, and she flashed an awkward smile before quickly turning away to blink back tears. God, but why was she so quick to cry these days? Either there was something wrong with Ramil’s air or it was an inevitable occupational hazard of being queen.

“You did good,” Altair said as they headed out of the embassy.

“Hmph.”

Altair smiled. Although he hadn’t spent as much time with Harper as Khalil had over the years, he was not unfamiliar with her contrary ways, and this, he knew, was simply her way of hiding her embarrassment.

When they got back to the palace, the first thing she saw was the Emir Sheikh, waiting for her by the steps. He was dressed in a whitethobe, his dark hair covered by his headdress, and oh, how her heart raced at the sight of him.

As soon as she stepped out of the car, the sheikh opened his arms, and she flew into his embrace like a homing bird.

“You made me proud today, my Harper.”

“Hmph.”