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THE WEEKS FOLLOWINGtheir return to the kingdom were frenetic, not only for the sheikh but Ramil’s new queen as well. Aside from her ongoing lessons with the court tutor, Harper was now expected and made to appear in various functions as a bona fide member of the royal family. In a few instances, she would be accompanied by one of the sheikh’s cousins: Altair for military affairs, Tarif where foreign dignitaries are concerned, Rayyan during economic conferences, and Malik when addressing the scientific and educational sectors. More often than not, however, it was just Harper facing the public while her security triumvirate stood in stoic vigilance from backstage, and it was during these instances that Harper would experience the greatest trouble.

Court members who had treated her with the utmost courtesy would then show their true colors whenever they chanced upon Harper minus the company of one of the sheikhs. They would arrive late for meetings, snigger at her botched accent when she spoke Rami, and loudly uttered snide remarks the moment she turned her back.

For the most part, Harper was able to shrug this off, thinking it wasn’t that much different from her high school days. Her bodyguards, however, were a different matter. As the sheikh had promised, the AFK had become accustomed to her cranky ways and was now very much protective of their queen. These days, the three didn’t hesitate at all in speaking their mind with her, and most of it involved reprimanding Harper for being too nice.

It is not right for a queen to be so accommodating of everyone’s wishes, Your Majesty.

You must assert yourself more, Your Majesty – remind them that such disrespectful treatment is punishable by our laws.

Our king must be made aware of these transgressions. Protecting such foul creatures will only encourage them to continue with their shameful ways.

To all of these Harper only nodded, with a large part of her believing the AFK was simply making a huge fuss out of nothing. It was only to be expected that the most traditional members of the sheikh’s government would treat her with scorn and suspicion. She was a foreigner, and even worse – she was neither an extremely rich or drop-dead gorgeous foreigner. In the eyes of most people, she was a woman completely undeserving of the sheikh, where her only good point was her filial relation with one of the kingdom’s present-day heroes.

But other than that, she brought nothing to the table. Harper knew this, accepted this, and it was why she was determined to earn the trust and respect of the sheikh’s officials on her own. No matter what it took, she would be the kind of queen the kingdom of Ramil could be proud of and maybe – just maybe – the sheikh would stop avoiding Harper like she had become his greatest mistake.

Even without the sheikh saying a word, Harper knew that something had changed between them. Ever since their return from Contini, the sheikh had noticeably cooled towards her, but every time she would attempt to ask him what was wrong or talk about what was bothering would him, the sheikh would only gaze at her with polite interest. And then he would lie—-

There is nothing wrong.

I’m merely busy.

You must be imagining things.

And if the lies weren’t enough, he would simply shut her up by making love to her. He would literally fuck her to exhaustion, and by the time she woke up, it was morning, and he was gone, his day always starting earlier than hers.

The first week, Harper had let it go, thinking that perhaps in time the sheikh would confide in her. But when his subtle cold-shoulder treatment continued, she had found herself frustrated, which in turn eventually led to Harper flying into a rage.

Stop with the bullshit! Are you a coward? Just tell me what’s wrong!

A part of her had been appalled at her words, but the other half of her was desperately hoping that they would be the key to unlocking his indifference. But instead, the opposite happened. The sheikh had walked out on her and slept elsewhere in the palace. When they had met for breakfast the next day, he didn’t tell her where he had slept, and she had been too proud to ask. When night fell, Harper lay in the dark, her eyes stinging, her heart shriveled.

What did she do if he still didn’t come?

What should she do?

What could she do?

The questions tormented her, and its answers only came to her just when she was about to lose all hope. It was past midnight when the door to their chamber quietly opened and the sheikh had entered. She had held her breath, watching him undress in the shadows, and when he had joined her in bed—-

She had not even hesitated, hadn’t even tried to think of what she was doing.

Harper had simply rolled towards him, and it was as if the sheikh had already known what she’d do, with his powerful arms immediately closing around her like he had only been waiting for her to come home.

She had started to speak, but he hadn’t let her, instead capturing her mouth with his while his fingers ripped her clothes away. She had gasped in surprise, but passion soon swept her away, and she willingly gave herself up to his touch. Their lovemaking was fast and furious, silent and rough. It was as wonderful as it had always been, maybe even more so after spending one night apart, and when he had come inside of her, his powerful body shuddering above hers, it really had felt like they were okay.

And she would have believed they were okay, had wanted so dreadfully to believe that – if not for the tears that had silently tracked down her cheeks.

In the shelter of the sheikh’s arms, her despair swallowed by the darkness of their chamber, Harper had prayed with all her heart.One day, one day, let him be proud of her. Let him notice what she was doing. Let him...love her.

Her heart whispered this every night, not knowing that it was asking something that God had already granted.

****

CONTRARY TO HARPER’Sknowledge, the sheikh did know what she had been up to the past few weeks. The sheikh knew every little thing she did, was aware of every slight done to her, and had committed the name of every individual who had dared treat his queen with anything less than the utmost respect to memory. Moreover, he was not alone in such observations, with his cousins reporting to him in separate occasions about the disturbing rumors that had reached their offices. The issue had even grown so that in one of his closed-door meetings with the other sheikhs, Altair had again brought up the topic, asking in his typical take-action fashion about the Emir Sheikh’s plans for addressing the situation.

“It is not the proper time for me to interfere,” Khalil answered calmly. “There are things she must do on her own or she can never be the queen that the kingdom needs.”

Tarif shook his head, murmuring, “You are a surprisingly hard man, brother.”