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critically injured, and you say...sorry?”

      Even now that she knew Farooq was safe, the horror still reverberated in her bones. She’d never known such desperation, not even when she’d been held hostage and thought she’d die a violent death.

      Fury seethed inside of her. “Don’t you know what you did to me? As I thought of beautiful, vital Farooq lying broken, struggling for his life, how I wept as I thought how much he had to live for, as I thought of Carmen losing her soul mate, of Mennah growing up without her father.... You’re a monstrous pig, Kamal!”

      Kamal winced. “I said he was injured but that he was stable. I wanted you here, but didn’t want to scare you more than necessary. How am I responsible for your exaggerations?”

      “How? How?” She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. “How does Aliyah bear you?”

      Kamal had the temerity to flash her that wolfish grin of his. “I never ask. I just wallow in the miracle of her, and that she thinks I’m the best thing that ever walked the earth.”

      “Then Aliyah, although she looks sane, is clearly deranged. Or under a spell....”

      “It’s called love.” Kamal raised his hands before she exploded again. “I am sorry. But you said you’d never set foot here again, and I knew you wouldn’t come unless you thought one of us was dying.”

      “I know you’re ruthless and manipulative and a dozen other inhuman adjectives but...argh! Whatever you needed to drag me here for, you could have tried telling me the truth first!”

      Kamal smirked. “Aih, and when that didn’t work, I would have tried the lie next. I would have ordered you to come, but knowing you, you would have probably renounced your Judarian citizenship just so I’d stop being your king. If you weren’t that intractable I wouldn’t have had to lie, and you wouldn’t have had those harrowing sixteen hours.”

      “So it’s now my fault? You—you humongous, malignant rat! What could possibly be enough reason for you to drag me back here with this terrible lie?”

      “Just that Judar is about to go to war.”

      She shot back up to her feet. “Kaffa, Kamal...enough. I’m already here. So stop lying.”

      His face was suddenly grim. “No lie this time.” He put his hand on her shoulder, gently pressed her down to the couch, coming down beside her this time. “It’s a long story.”

      She gaped at him as he recounted it, plunging deeper into a surreal scape with every word.

      But wars did erupt over far less, especially in their region. This was real.

      When he was done, she exhaled. “You can’t even consider war over oil rights, no matter how massive. Aren’t you the wizard of diplomacy who peacefully resolves conflicts to every side’s benefit?”

      “Seems you’re not familiar with King Hassan.” A scoff almost escaped her. Oh, she was so very familiar with King Hassan. “Some people are immune to diplomacy.”

      “And you’re not posturing and allowing your council to egg you on with hand-me-down rivalries and vendettas?”

      It was Kamal’s turn to scoff. “Give me some credit, Jala. I care nothing about any of this bull. I don’t have an inflamed ego and don’t borrow others’ enmities.”

      “Yet you’re letting someone who has and does drag you down to his level, when you should contain him and his petty aggressions.” She exhaled her exasperation. “No wonder I did everything I could to get out of this godforsaken region and had to be told my oldest brother was dying to set foot here again. All this feudal backwardness is just...nauseating. You’d think nothing ever changed since the eleventh century!”

      “War over oil rights is very twenty-first century.”

      “Congratulations to all of you, then, for your leap into modern warfare. I hope you’ll enjoy deploying long-range missiles and playing high-tech war games.” She muttered something about monkeys under her breath. “I still don’t get why you conned me back here. You want me to have a front row seat with you lunkheads when the war begins?”

      He reached for her hand, his eyes cajoling. Uh-oh.

      “You actually play the lead role in averting this catastrophe.”

      “What could I possibly have to do with resolving your political conflicts?”

      “Everything really. Only you can stop the war now, by marrying an Aal Ghaanem prince.”

      “What?”

      “Only a blood-mixing union will end hostilities and forge a long-lasting alliance.”

      She snatched her hand from his grasp, erupting to her feet. “Did I say you were stuck in the eleventh century? You’ve just stumbled five more centuries backward. Not so good seeing you, Kamal. And don’t expect to lay eyes on me for a long while. Certainly never in Judar again.”

      Kamal gave her that unfazed glance that made her want to shriek at the top of her lungs. “It’s this or war. The war you know full well would come at an unthinkable price to everyone in Judar—and in Saraya and Jareer, too.”

      Wincing at the terrible images his words smeared across her imagination, she gritted out, “Let’s say for argument’s sake that I don’t think you’re all insane to be still dabbling in marriages of state to settle political disputes. The Aal Masoods have many princesses who’re just right for the role of political bride. In fact, some have been born and bred for the role. So how are any of you foolish enough to consider me—aka the Prodigal Princess?”

      Lethal steel came into Kamal’s eyes. “Others’ opinions are irrelevant. You’re the princess of Judar. Only your blood could end centuries of enmity and forge an unbreakable alliance. So it’s not a choice. You are getting married to the Aal Ghaanem prince.”

      “Wow. If you wore a crown, I’d think it got too tight on your swelling head and gave you brain damage. Anyway, if you think you can sacrifice me at the altar of your tribal reconciliations, you’re suffering from serious delusions.”

      “We all offer sacrifices when our kingdom needs us.”

      “What sacrifices?” She coughed a furious chuckle. “To remain married to Carmen, Farooq tossed his crown-prince rank to Shehab when our kingdom needed him. Shehab did the same with you, to marry Farah. You grabbed the rank and sacrifice only because it got you Aliyah in the bargain. You’re all living in ecstatic-ever-afters because you did exactly what you wanted and never sacrificed a thing for ‘our kingdom.’”

      “Farooq and Shehab had the option of passing on their duty. I didn’t, like you don’t now. And I thought it was a sacrifice when I accepted my duty.”

      “No, you didn’t. You knew nothing less than another threat of war would get Aliyah to say good-morning to you again. You pounced on the ‘duty’ that would make her your queen and pretended to hate your ‘fate.’” At his raised eyebrows, she smirked. “I can figure things out pretty good, ya akhi al azeez. So spare me the sacrifice speech, brother dear. You’re out of your mind if you think you can sway me into this by appealing to my patriotism.”

      “Then it will be your steep humanitarian inclinations. You’ve been in war zones. You know that once war starts, there’s no stopping the chain reaction that harvests lives in its path. As a woman who lives to alleviate the suffering of others, and who can stop this nightmarish scenario, you’ll do anything to abort it, even if you abhor Judar and the whole region. And the very idea of marriage.”

      The terrible knowledge that he was right, if there was no other choice, seeped into her marrow. “So now what? You’ll line up Aal Ghaanem princes and I’ll pick the least offensive one? And the one I pick would just accept being sacrificed for his kingdom’s peace and prosperity?”

      “If a man considers marrying you a sacrifice, he must be devoid of even a drop of

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