The waiting area inside the Royal Medical Centre maternity wing was nothing like the pictures in the brochure. There were no smiling, happy soon-to-be families filling the fake wood chairs. No fresh flowers brightening the reception area. No warmth whatsoever. Even the coffee, which Zaid had only gotten to keep himself busy, was cold and sterile, much like the space itself.
Alim's doing, as he had insisted on vacating all but necessary personnel prior to their arrival. The few who remained had been required to submit to background checks and sign confidentiality agreements, all of which Alim had personally vetted. Now was not the time to alert the frenzied media to the existence of a royal baby.
One of the few nurses manning the floor ushered them into an exam room and began collecting Harper's vital signs.
"You don't have to stay," Harper said to Zaid, pushing up the sleeve of her tunic to better accommodate the blood pressure cuff. "I'm a big girl. I can see the doctor by myself."
Zaid shook his head. "That is out of the question."
"It's a routine checkup. Thousands of women have them every day. I promise, if anything interesting happens–"
"There is nothing routine about the child you are carrying," Zaid said. "And it has been well-established that you and I have very different ideas about what constitutes interesting."
He had been waiting for this appointment all week, ever since he'd first felt that tiny flutter of movement. Had wanted to make sure everything was okay. With Harper. With the baby.
Which was ludicrous, since he had no reason to believe otherwise. Harper seemed no more tired than usual, and in fact her mood had improved significantly since the wedding. She had gone almost two weeks now without terminating a member of her staff, the longest streak by far.
But the wedding had not eased the anxiety that had been building in his chest since the day of the press conference. Since the day it became clear to him what would happen to his world should anything happen to Harper or the baby. It would crumble, as sure as if someone had crushed it beneath their heel. And he would crumble with it. Would have no choice, no control over the matter.
And that was unacceptable to him.
“Is it true that this place has a genome lab?” Harper asked.
Zaid shook his head. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Well, you should, considering you paid for it.”
“Funds for the hospital’s research come from an independent foundation set up in my family name,” Zaid said. “All I do is sign the checks.”
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you took a more active interest. I’ve been reading online, and there’s a lot of groundbreaking work happening here. A lot of good could come out of these research projects. When we’re done here, do you think it would be okay if we looked around a while?”
“You want to tour the hospital?”
“Apparently I’m a board member now. Might as well familiarize myself with the place.”
“You said you didn’t want a hand-out.”
“You said it wasn’t a hand-out.”
“Perhaps you can discuss it with the other board members at the gala tomorrow night,” Zaid said. “I’m sure someone will be happy to show you around.”
Harper disrobed and changed into the pink hospital gown left for her by the nurse, then settled in on the hospital bed, taking small comfort in the sheet draped over her lap, providing her with the barest modicum of privacy.
The exam room door slid open, and Dr. Rousan, a small, middle-aged woman with dark hair streaked with gray, walked over and introduced herself.
"I understand this has been a busy week for you, so we'll make this quick.” She referred to Harper’s chart. "Are you experiencing any pain? Dizziness?"
"No."
"Morning sickness?"
Harper shook her head. "Not for a while now."
"Good," Dr. Rousan said. "Go ahead and lie down on the table and we'll get started."
Harper rested her head on the exam room pillow and stared at the ceiling, counting tiles to keep her mind occupied. She winced at the cold of the ultrasound gel, involuntarily gripping the sheet in a tight fist.
She had nothing to be afraid of. Her vitals were good. Her pregnancy so far had been textbook normal. And she knew of nothing in her family history that could cause a complication.
But she had barely made it to the halfway point. There were still several weeks to go before she could relax. Before the chances that her child could live without her, outweighed the chances he could not.
As a doctor, she thrived on statistics, on numbers in general. Relied on them to reveal what was going on inside, on the most basic level. But as a mother, she found no comfort in them. Any chance that something might be wrong with her son or daughter, no matter how small, was terrifying.
The warmth of Zaid’s hand on hers flooded through her, loosening her hold on the sheet. She closed her eyes and gripped his fingers tightly. She wanted to curl into the palm of his hand and stay cocooned there, where it felt warm and safe.
"There we go," Dr. Rousan said, pulling Harper's focus away from the feel of Zaid’s hand on hers, toward the small mostly-black ultrasound screen. She pointed to a series of white lines as they flickered in a steady rhythm. "There's the heartbeat."
Harper tightened her grip on Zaid's hand, needing to hold onto something. To be grounded in the moment. She felt impossibly light, consumed by an intoxicating levity, as though she had been hypnotized by the image on the screen.
Dr. Rousan continued. "Everything looks good. She appears, by all accounts, to be quite healthy."
Harper let out a burst of laughter. "She? The baby is a girl?"
Dr. Rousan wheeled the ultrasound machine out of the way, and wiped the ultrasound gel from Harper's stomach. "You didn't know?"
Harper shook her head. "This is the first appointment I've had since I left the States."
"Then I am sorry to have ruined the surprise."
"Don't be." Harper pulled her hand away from Zaid and pushed herself into a sitting position. "It's good news. Great news, actually."
The best news she'd had in a while.
A girl.
A baby girl that could be hers, all hers. A baby girl who wouldn't have the weight of Gulzar thrust upon her, who wouldn't grow up bearing the shadow of an entire kingdom.
She exhaled finally, as though she had been holding her breath for months. Preparing herself for the worst. But now each breath came easily, slow and measured.
A girl.
Dr. Rousan excused herself so Harper could get dressed, and Zaid stood, relaxing against the closed door. “I take it you are pleased with this news."
Harper shrugged into her wrap tunic, tying it closed on the side. "Of course I'm pleased. You heard Dr. Rousan. She's perfect. Strong and healthy."
"And a girl."
His chest stung as though it had been ripped open, exposing parts of him it had taken decades to bury. An unbearable rawness that shocked him cold.
His mind had been focused on the possibility of a male child, an heir who might someday vie for the throne. Protecting the monarchy, that was his primary objective. Never once had he seriously considered what may happen should the child be a girl.
Which is how he now found himself without a plan. Without the leverage he needed to control the situation. To entice Harper into staying with him, raising her daughter in Gulzar.
Not that he should care. From its inception, their marriage had never been intended as a love match. And by all accounts of logic, Harper was right. Having a girl made things easier.
So why did he feel as though he had been sucked beneath the surface of a raging ocean, unable to fight against it, unable to take the breath he so desperately needed.
Dr. Rousan was waiting on them in the small reception area when they exited the exam room. She referred to Harper's chart. "I would like to see you again in four weeks." She turned to Zaid. "Will you be joining us then, as well?"
Harper chimed in. "I'm sure Sheikh Zaid has more important things to do than accompany me to my pre-natal appointments."
Zaid cut his eyes to her. "Sheikh Zaid can speak for himself. And he insists on attending every appointment."
"Excellent," Dr. Rousan said. She turned to Harper. "I will see you both then."
They followed the stretch of hallway to the elevators, neither of them saying anything until the doors dinged open.
Zaid pressed the button for the ground level, and Harper turned to him studying him closely. “You’re not happy about this. The baby being a girl, I mean.”
“It does pose certain complications,” Zaid said. “The most obvious of which is that a girl cannot rule.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“For the fate of my country, it is a bad thing. A potentially disastrous thing.”
Harper gave a small, humorless laugh. “So what are you saying? That now you want me to give you a son?”
“Logic dictates as much, since you are my wife.”
“Yeah, on paper.”
“On paper, and in oath,” Zaid said. “And regardless of the circumstances, I have made you a promise to be faithful. I will not break it.”
“What about the promise you made about not asking me to do something I don’t want to do?”
“You don’t want other children?”
Harper blanched. “I don’t know. Someday. Maybe.”
“I need an heir to rule, Harper. This isn’t new information.”
“I hate to break it to you, but my womb is a bit occupied at the moment.”
“So we’ll wait a year.”
Or five. “There are other optons. Surrogacy—“
“You are my wife, not some surrogate,” Zaid said, dragging a hand through his hair. “Gulzar is conservative. The people here will never accept a child born from another woman as a ruling monarch. The child has to come from you.”
She stared at him, mouth agape, for a long moment. His heart thundered against his sternum, pumping adrenaline through his body, engaging his fight or flight response.
Was it unfair what he was asking? He needed to father a legitimate heir to continue his family legacy, and now that he and Harper were married…Well, the logistics were pretty straightforward. Surely she would see that, in time.
And if she didn’t? Well, he would find another way to keep her in Gulzar. To keep her from leaving and taking the child away.
The doors dinged open and he put a hand on the small of her back as he guided her down the hallway to the security detail at the front entrance. She tensed under his touch, a coldness that clung to his skin, ached in his chest.
But it made no difference. He had come too far to lose everything again.