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The cleric turned to Niesha. Her heart lurched frantically.
Her fingers began to tremble, then her whole body was seized by vicious little earthquakes that just wouldn’t stop.
‘Repeat your vows,’ Zufar instructed with a grave whisper. ‘Repeat them now.’
Niesha swallowed painfully, forcing her dry throat to work. She opened her mouth, and with a sense of wild surrealism said, ‘I, Niesha Zalwani, take you, Zufar al Khalia, to be my husband.’
Shock waves rippled through the crowd, echoed outside the palace as the true identity of the bride was revealed. Through it all, Zufar kept his gaze fixed, haughty, regal and straight-ahead.
‘Proceed,’ he commanded the cloaked cleric.
To his credit, the old man did not hesitate. He recited reams of archaic, binding words.
And a mere half an hour later, Niesha was officially wed to the King of Khalia.
CHAPTER THREE (#ufb50758e-86d0-5dad-b860-4652cecbf0ed)
A THREE-MINUTE STATEMENT was issued by the official press secretary on behalf of Sheikh Zufar al Khalia immediately following the ceremony. That was all it took for the strange tale of the swapped bride to turn the atmosphere from scandalised confusion into roars of elation.
By the time Niesha stood beside Zufar’s side on the royal balcony above the Imperial Ceremonial Room, the whole kingdom was in a romantic frenzy. Social media went into meltdown at the idea that the King had followed his heart and married the bride of his choosing rather than the one arranged for him. The media, searching for dissenting views, had only been met with romantic sighs and tales about star-crossed lovers.
The little Niesha managed to catch only added to the surrealism of the whole thing.
A five-minute lesson in wedding protocol instead of the usual weeks of tutoring was all she’d been granted in between leaving the wedding ceremony and arriving on the balcony.
She was to stand to the right of her new husband, not the left. Her arm was never to rise above shoulder level when she waved to the crowd. And while she was allowed to show her teeth when she smiled, her demeanour should not in any way exhibit raucousness. Terse instructions whizzed through her brain, the dos and don’ts of being the new Queen streaking like lightning across her senses.
‘Look straight ahead and smile,’ Zufar instructed calmly. ‘I believe this is the moment when you should go to your happy place and think positive thoughts.’
With everything that had unfolded in the last few hours, Niesha was terrifyingly close to succumbing to hysteria. Lately, her happy place had been curling up with a book beside the fire in her tiny bedsit on the borders of the palace grounds. Oh, how she wished she were there now. Anywhere but here, where a million eyes gawked shamelessly, and the guests of honour who were no longer bothering to keep their voices down openly speculated as to how she had come to be in these particular shoes.
‘My happy place?’ she murmured. ‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea.’
Even though she’d kept her voice low, he heard her, and cast her a brief but hard glance.
‘Why not?’ he enquired. ‘Isn’t that what women do when they wish to escape their troubles?’ There was a bitter undertone that pulled her up short but his face displayed the same neutral mask he’d worn since the moment they were announced as husband and wife, and had turned to face their honoured guests.
‘I’m not sure I know what you mean,’ Niesha said.
‘That’s not important right now. All I care about is that you do not project anything other than utter bliss to find yourself in this position. Remember, the whole world is watching.’
He probably believed he was helping. This was his way of supporting her through an impossible situation. All Niesha could take in at that moment was the pounding of her heart and the boisterous jubilation of the crowd as they waved their flags and screamed congratulations across the royal park where they were gathered.
‘Do your best. That is all I ask,’ Zufar muttered. ‘It would please me greatly if you did it now, however. The others are joining us.’
That was all the warning she had before the doors behind them parted and the rest of his extended family flooded onto the balcony to join them.
Galila slid into place beside her, while his brother, Malak, took his position next to Zufar. Aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews slotted into their allotted positions and acknowledged the crowd with regal waves and salutes honed into place since childhood.
While each and every one of them cast lingering looks her way.
Niesha felt thankful, for the briefest moment, that Zufar had kept her by his side. One bold relative had attempted to pry out the reason behind his last-minute change in brides. Zufar had responded with a stern rebuke for him to mind his own business.
‘I will call a family gathering as soon as I have a moment to spare. But do not hold your breath. I intend to be occupied for a while with my new bride.’
His uncle had retreated with his chastised tail between his legs, while Niesha was left blushing furiously. Word had quickly spread that Sheikh Zufar was not to be questioned on the subject of his bride. Not today at least.
‘I suppose congratulations are in order,’ Galila murmured.
‘Thank you,’ Niesha replied.
‘I would love to know how this interesting outcome transpired,’ Galila continued. ‘I mean, I left you a maidservant. Two hours later, you’re my sister-in-law. Not that I don’t love a riveting story, but this—’
‘Watch it, Galila,’ Zufar warned beneath his breath, his hands positioned strategically in front of his face as he waved.
Galila easily maintained her graceful smile as she looked at her brother. ‘What?’ she asked softly. ‘So sue me if I’m dying to know what happened. One minute I was attempting to locate your elusive bride-to-be and the next I seem to have acquired a new sister-in-law altogether. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I’d slipped and fallen into a reality TV show.’
‘Enough,’ Zufar growled. ‘Don’t forget there are lip-readers out there. If there’s discussion to be had, we will get to it later. For now, remember where you are.’
Beside him, his brother Malak snorted under his breath. ‘If you wanted us to behave, brother, you shouldn’t have offered us this salacious piece of adventure on your wedding day. If you’re trying to get into the history books, then bravo. No one will forget this day in a hurry.’
The only hint that Zufar wasn’t in complete control of his emotions was the small tic that throbbed at his temple. He continued to wave and acknowledge the crowd, and even at one point slid his hand around the Niesha’s waist as the royal military jets flew overhead.
Niesha was thankful for the deafening roar of the jet engines, as it swallowed the gasp that travelled through her body when his hand settled on the curve of her waist. Besides the moment when he’d helped her off the floor, and the moment he’d slid the wedding ring onto her finger, Zufar hadn’t touched her.
She’d been very thankful for that, she told herself, despite the humiliating stone lodged in her stomach when he’d lifted her veils and promptly stepped away without executing the customary newly-wed altar kiss.
But now, with his touch searing through the folds of the wedding gown right into her skin, Niesha couldn’t suppress the tingles that swarmed her body. The smile she’d pinned to her face froze as her every sense homed in on the sensation evoked by his touch. It was as if his hand were charged with a unique voltage that zinged through her bloodstream, firing up little explosions of fireworks. A handful of seconds passed, then more, and then all sense of time and space disappeared as Zufar looked down into her eyes.
Tawny-gold eyes seared right into her soul, as if he intended to possess her every thought. Somewhere in the distance the royal jets performed acrobatic loops, and then started their return journey. She knew it was only a matter of moments before millions of confetti pieces would be tossed from the sky and showered upon them.
It was the moment the crowd had been waiting for.
The moment when the King kissed his new Queen.
Never in her wildest dreams had she believed it would be her. Above that, never in her wildest dreams had she believed that a man like Zufar would be staring down at her with that intense look in his eyes.
It was all an act, she repeated to herself. But her hammering heart and the frenzied little cyclones whirling through her veins dared to suggest otherwise. His hand steered her to face him, an insistent move that told her that there was no getting away from this. Zufar, the man she’d harboured silly dreams about in her teenage years, was about to kiss her.
Far above her head, a gigantic burst of blues and golds rained from the sky. Niesha paid little attention. Every single cell in her body was focused on the head slowly lowering towards hers, the hand grasping her waist, and the firm, insistent tug as he pulled her close.
‘Relax,’ he breathed, his voice holding warning as well as rough reassurance.
But Niesha wasn’t reassured. How many women dreamed that their very first kiss would be witnessed by millions, if not billions of people across the world? What if she got it wrong? What if she made a complete fool of herself, more than she had before this whole debacle started? And what if—
‘Niesha,’ Zufar murmured again, his warning deeper this time.
‘I’m trying,’ she whispered back fiercely.
‘Try harder. You look as if you are heading for the gallows instead of your first kiss with your new husband. Is kissing me such a daunting prospect?’ he drawled.
‘Maybe it is. Have you considered that it may be the last thing I want?’
His eyes widened a touch with surprise at the spark of defiance in her voice.
Tawny-gold eyes gleamed an instant before the first shower of confetti drifted past her. Another landed on her cheek.
About to brush it away, she froze when he murmured, ‘Stop.’
He captured her free hand, the one not holding the bouquet, and laid it gently on his chest. And then, with a suave move, he brushed the tiny gold piece of tinsel from her cheek. Expecting his hand to return to her waist, Niesha gave a little gasp as his fingers stroked her jaw and then drifted to her neck.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She’d seen more than a few royal first kisses, had dreamed many years ago of how it would feel to be the recipient of one, just like any other girl her age.
Those embraces had been chaste, the exchanged gazes nowhere near this intense.
Zufar was breaking protocol.
But, of course, she couldn’t question his actions. Not without risking her lips being read. So she stood before him, attempting not to tremble out of her skin as sure fingers drew down her neck to rest lightly on her collarbone. His thumb gently tilted her chin upward, causing her shiver to intensify.
‘How you tremble so, little one,’ Zufar murmured.
She opened her mouth—to say what, she would never know. Because in that moment Zufar closed the gap between them and sealed his lips on hers.
The roar and the call of trumpets were for this staged show, Niesha knew. But every sound intensified the thrill and sizzle in her blood the moment Zufar kissed her. She wasn’t sure why she closed her eyes, but it felt like the right thing to do. Perhaps because she was more than a little drugged from the effect of his mouth on hers.
It was like nothing she’d ever experienced in her life. Heat and magic and earth-shaking desire surged through her body, flowing from his lips right through to her very toes. He swallowed her tiny squeak of shocked delight as he deepened the kiss. His hand didn’t move from her throat but the one at her waist dug deeper, searing his fingers onto her skin. That tiny moan escaped again. The crowd roared louder. All through it Zufar continued to kiss her, his tongue swiping across her bottom lip, weakening her knees so she sagged against him.
He caught her easily, held onto her as he continued to gently ravage her mouth.
‘Enough, you two,’ Galila said with a chuckle. ‘There are children watching. Let’s not turn this into an X-rated show.’
With a muted grunt, Zufar lifted his head. His face reflected a hint of surprise, then irritated bewilderment. Both were quickly masked a moment later.
If it had been anyone else, she would’ve believed he was experiencing the same sensations cascading through her body, but his eyes studied her with piercing speculation that added apprehension to her already jangled emotions.
What was he thinking?
As if he caught the silent question, his hand dropped from her throat, and he faced the crowd. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth, as if he was acknowledging that he’d just shared a special moment with every citizen in his kingdom, and millions more around the world. A second later, he looked down at her, his eyes telling her that she needed to also acknowledge the crowd.
Blushing fiercely, Niesha faced the crowd again. In unison, they waved, smiled, waved some more. All the while, her senses spun.
Her first kiss.
Was this how everyone felt? She was drowning in sensation, as if the whole world had tilted and taken a different course that would never be the same again. Because how could anything else compare to this?
She wasn’t a romantic. Childish, fairy-tale feelings had been beaten out of her by years of hard work and the reality that only a lucky few found their happily-ever-after, most of them in the books she treasured. She was old enough to accept that those foolish daydreams needed to be set aside the moment she closed the book.
So what she was experiencing now was nothing short of a daydream she needed to put behind her as soon as possible.
This was temporary. She was a stand-in.
Come tomorrow she’d be back in her beige uniform, fluffing pillows and refilling shampoo bottles in bathrooms in the east wing.
The thought froze the smile on her face, even as she continued to wave to the crowd.
After an excruciating half-hour, with one final wave, Zufar steered her away from the balcony. They re-entered the small anteroom serving as a holding place before, but that was now a path that led to the banqueting hall where the formal wedding reception was being held.
‘You did well,’ Zufar stated as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
Despite the tersely murmured statement, a bubble of warmth speared through the sizzling shock that hadn’t entirely left her.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, pleased that she hadn’t completely let him down.
‘Of course, you could do with smiling a little bit more,’ he added.
The bubble burst. ‘I can’t smile on command,’ she replied.
‘You are the Queen now. You have to learn how.’
‘But I am not, though, am I?’
‘That ring on your finger, my dear, is all the evidence you need.’
‘You know what I mean, Your Highness.’
‘Do I?’ Zufar murmured even as he nodded to a guest bowing as they passed.
‘Of course you do,’ Niesha muttered fiercely. Why was he pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about? ‘I’m not your Queen. This was temporary. You said so yourself.’
His body tensed, then a muscle rippled in his jaw. ‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he said.
A spurt of apprehension turned into full-blown alarm. ‘What is there to talk about, Your Highness?’
‘You calling me Your Highness, for starters. I’m your husband now. You are allowed to address me as Zufar.’
Her footsteps faltered. For as long as she could remember, he’d always been Sheikh Zufar, or Crown Prince Zufar. Not even in her dreams had she addressed him by his given name alone. It felt...huge. As if she were taking a leap into thin air. Niesha started to shake her head.
Somehow, she had to bring this back to reality, back under her control.
‘You also need to stop shaking your head at every little disagreement. As my new bride, you’re supposed to be glowing and blushing with happiness, not wearing an expression as if you’ve been led into the devil’s own playpen.’
‘You know why I am acting this way. I don’t know why you’re pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about. You said this was temporary.’
‘Did I?’
Her mouth parted in a stunned O.
‘Remember where you are,’ he warned. ‘Do you really think this is the right time for this discussion?’
