Harper's small studio apartment sat three blocks from Club Envy, halfway between the nightclub and her medical school campus. The aged brick walls, uneven hardwood floors, and exposed electrical conduits spoke of the building's history, its quaint, unassuming charm.
At least, that's how Harper tried to think of it. In truth, it was all she could afford. A not so great apartment in a not so great part of town.
It was fine. For now. But not an ideal place to raise a child.
Especially not a child who might someday rule a nation.
She stepped out of the bathroom, relieved she could still fit into her favorite sweatpants, and secured her hair in a messy bun. Zaid stood at the sink in her tiny, utilitarian kitchen, posture stiff, as though the muscles in his broad shoulders didn't know how to relax. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows as he dabbed at his coat with a damp cloth.
"Sorry about your coat," Harper said, curling up on her hand-me-down sofa. "The morning sickness sneaks up on me sometimes."
"There's no need to apologize," Zaid said. "It is a more or less anticipated response when proposing one help stabilize the line of succession."
Harper's stomach swam in circles, nerves this time. "That wasn't all you proposed."
"We have much to discuss. Drink this." Zaid handed her a mug of hot tea, then turned to the chair she had been using as a laundry basket. He scooped up the pile of dirty clothes, dropped them on top of an overflowing hamper by the door, and took a seat. "I couldn't find any cream or sugar."
"It's fine, thanks." Harper stared into her tea, trying to hide her embarrassment. Zaid had money, more than she could possibly imagine. It was evident not only in the way he dressed, but in his posturing, the way he carried himself, as though he wasn't sitting in some worn out thrift store armchair, but seated on a gilded throne. She felt immeasurably lesser in his presence.
"You don't keep a lot of food on hand," Zaid said.
"I don't spend a lot of time here. I grab breakfast on my way to class, have lunch in the sandwich shop near the library, and I get all the leftovers I can eat at the club." She set her mug on the stack of science textbooks serving as a makeshift side table, and tucked her legs beneath her. "So...marriage. That's..."
She blew out a breath, making a whooshing sound.
Marriage had never been one of her top priorities. Graduating from college...finding a good medical school...getting into the best teaching hospital...becoming a doctor...climbing out of the poverty in which she'd been brought up... Those had been her goals. That had always been the plan.
But she wasn't even sure there was a plan anymore. After her epic waitress-fail tonight at the club, her chances of still having a job were nil. And if she didn't find a replacement job in the next few days, she would soon be out of a place to live, too. Unless she could somehow scrounge up enough money for next month's rent.
She didn't know what happened after that. She was officially out of options. Otherwise she would never have entertained a proposal like the one Zaid had offered.
"It's the only logical solution," Zaid said. "Marriage will legitimize the child."
"I thought you wanted the child...taken care of." She couldn't bring herself to use the clinical terminology. Couldn't bring herself to even think it.
"The child you care carrying is heir to the throne of Gulzar, even above me," Zaid said. "That makes him a threat, a pawn that could be used against me. Against my country."
Harper, unable to wrap her mind around what Zaid was saying, burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. "It's a baby," she said. "A baby that isn't even born yet. How great of a threat could he be?"
"Babies grow into children and children into adults," Zaid said. "My father was only sixteen when he assumed the throne. It isn't a stretch to imagine that under the right circumstances, with the right influence, your child may wish to stake a claim."
"Well, rest assured, I have no current plans to usurp a desert kingdom."
"But you cannot make the same claim about your future husband," Zaid said. "How can you be sure you won't be taken in by someone who holds political aspirations?"
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly the marrying type," Harper said. "My life is school and work and the occasional reality TV binge. The only potential suitor on the horizon is the one sitting in my living room. And his prospects are not looking good."
"Things change."
Harper shook her head. "Not this. Not for me."
She'd lived in a constant state of upheaval as the men in her mother's life moved in and out of her life. She hadn't been able to circumvent it as a child, but she was an adult now, finally able to grasp onto the control she'd craved growing up.
But there was a freedom in Zaid's proposal she found appealing, despite her better judgment. He could offer stability, the kind of financial and emotional security she had longed for growing up. Precisely the thing she wished she could give to a child.
Her mother had done her best, worked as many hours, as many jobs, as it had taken to make ends meet, but rarely had it been enough. In the end, the worry had drained her of as much life as the alcohol had.
Taking Zaid up on his offer would spare her that worry. Spare her child that worry.
But at what cost?
"What's in it for you?" she asked him. "Or do you honestly expect me to believe your offer of marriage is some sincere, noble gesture?"
"You're welcome to believe whatever helps you sleep at night," Zaid said. "While I admit, my interest in this is predominantly political, the child is all that remains of my family. It is my duty. Not to mention, lending the child my name will allow me to rule my country free of the tediousness of future claims, not to mention mitigate the possibility of political scandal."
"There has to be another way."
"There is not."
Harper pressed her palms to her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. It was all too much. Too soon. Too...everything. She hadn't even gotten used to the idea of being a mother yet, let alone being a wife.
Or, for that matter, a queen.
She dragged a hand down her face, refusing to fall apart in front of him. Refusing to fall apart, period. "What happens if I say yes?"
"Then you will come to Gulzar with me. After that, I imagine there will be some sort of announcement, perhaps a party. Probably more than one."
"Gulzar...With you..."
"I can't very well rule a nation from five thousand miles away."
"But...Gulzar..."
"I assure you, with the exception of fast food and reality television, Gulzar can offer you just as much as Boston."
Harper hugged her knees to her chest and held on tightly. "I have a job...school...residency..."
"I wasn't aware Boston had a monopoly on teaching hospitals."
"It doesn't," she conceded. Though it seemed a pointless consideration. She could barely stay awake for a soapy nighttime drama, let alone a thirty-six hour shift.
"Then I will let my head of security know to begin expediting the paperwork needed to ensure your relocation goes smoothly," Zaid said.
Harper put her hands up. "Whoa. Wait a second. I haven't agreed to anything yet. I need time. To think. To...digest."
"Time isn't a luxury we can afford at present," Zaid said. "It took my head of security less than a day to find you. It's only a matter of time before others follow suit."
Harper's blood ran cold, panic coursing through her where before there had just been adrenaline and shock. "You think someone would come after a...a baby?"
"Not a baby," Zaid said. "A king."
"Maybe," she said. "Babies come in two different flavors, you know. There's a fifty percent chance it's a girl."
"You don't think women can pose a threat to a country?"
"Not if they're excluded from the line of succession."
"Women can be just as much of a threat, regardless of their position," Zaid said. "The fact that we are having this conversation proves as much. Though I admit, a girl would simplify the situation exponentially. Unfortunately, we haven't the luxury of waiting to find out the degree of threat this child poses. If we are to be married, it must be soon, before your...condition can no longer be denied."
Her condition.
He spoke of it as though she had ingested some bad shellfish rather than created a tiny living person. Though she couldn't blame him. She wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of carrying on the Carillo family tradition of single motherhood.
It had been a mistake. Sleeping with Matthias. Letting her guard down. She'd known it as it was happening, but she hadn't been able to stop herself.
Tightness cinched her chest. She wanted to go back to when life was simple, before she had heard of Gulzar, before she had foolishly fallen into bed with Matthias, allowed him to feed on her insecurities. Back to when things made sense.
But she was alone in this. Completely, heartbreakingly alone.
And she was tired. Tired of feeling as though every waking moment was spent holding the world together, terrified that at any minute, she would slip and everything would break apart.
No one understood. No one at all.
Except maybe Zaid.
He had watched as, one by one, his family had been taken from him. Now he was all that remained. There was no one else left.
No one but the child she carried.
How many times had she been through this? How many of her mother's boyfriends had promised to care for her as if she were their own blood, only to disappear when her mother's addiction became too much for them, leaving her to clean up the mess?
She had hated her mother for that. Hated her for not being able to take care of herself. For not being able to take care of her family.
And then, when she’d died, Harper had hated her for that, too.
But what choice did she have? She couldn't provide for her child on her own, not even under the best of circumstances. And if there was any chance of a threat to his safety...
Well, it was a no-brainer. There was nothing she wouldn't do to mitigate that threat. Nothing at all.
Not even this.
“I get that this…sham of a marriage is a temporary fix for you. But I can't let you into my child's life, unless I know you're going to stay there. Not for a year, or two, or ten, but always. If you're serious about claiming this child, being a father, I need to know you're in it for life."
"I am not in the habit of doing things halfway."
Resistance crept into her chest and settled there, stealing her voice, challenging her nerve. She pushed it down and held it there until it burned itself out, leaving in its wake a tightness in her throat that threatened to squeeze off precious oxygen.
She swallowed.
"Then I'll do it," she said, forcing out the words before she could think better of it. "I'll marry you."