“Will my brothers scold me?” Zara asked, her voice small, sulking in the chair.
“For what?” I asked, watching the hairdresser snip away at her roughly cut hair.
I had called the best hairdresser in Azmia, offering a bonus if she would cut the Princess’s hair in her room and keep it a secret. I was sure Zain wouldn’t want rumors about Zara spreading across like a wildfire.
“For disappointing them,” she answered.
“They are not disappointed in you, Zara. You are their little sister. You could never disappoint Zain or Khalid. They got a little mad because they thought they couldn’t protect you, and that you are hurt because of their carelessness.”
“I don’t want them to be angry because of me, Nasrin,” she muttered. “How do I make them not mad? Khalid won’t even look at me.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I squeezed her hand. “I asked Zain to talk to you after dinner and bring Khalid with him. You can resolve any conflict by communicating, Zara. I am sure your brothers will understand or at least try to understand and do anything to help you because they care about you.”
She nodded and gave me a small smile. Even though it was not her full dimpled smile, it was still better than the frown.
The hairdresser stepped back, removing the cloth from Zara’s neck and brushing away the stray hair. As Zara had chopped her hair very unevenly, the hairdresser gave her a pixie bob. Her chocolate-colored hair was slicked back and a fringe with short hair framed her elfish face, bringing out her sharp bone structure.
“Do you like it, Princess?” The hairdresser asked with a meek voice, afraid of her rejection.
Zara grinned at her and bowed her head. “I love it, thank you so much!”
I smiled at her, playing with her hair, seeing it from all the different angles. Zara is going to break many hearts in the future. When the hairdresser was paid in full with a tip, she left, leaving Zara and me alone in her room.
“Can I ask why you were so sad and angry that you chopped your hair?” I said.
“I wasn’t angry at myself, even though I was stupid. I was angry at… at someone,” she grumbled.
I hummed. “Was that someone a male?”
Zara stared at me with wide eyes. “Please don’t tell my brothers or they will kill me. Or worse, they will kill him.”
“They will not kill him, Zara,” I chuckled. “I assure you they know even they can’t protect you from love and heartbreak.”
She gave me a smile and hugged me. “I am so glad you are here, Nasrin. Thank you for marrying my brother.”
I was touched by her words. Hugging her back, I whispered, “I am glad too.”
* * *
“Is she okay?” Zain asked me as soon as I entered the room.
His hair was damp, and he was wearing clean clothes, smelling of mint and jasmine. Did he use my body wash? It made me smile.
“She is. I promised her that you and Khalid will talk to her after dinner. Please listen to what she has to say before making any assumptions.”
“I will. Did she mention what happened?”
“I believe your sister got her heart broken.”
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I should have let Zara tell him that because as soon as I finished my sentence, Zain’s face turned from confused to shocked to anger.
“How dare someone break my little sister—”
I walked past him, “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“What do you mean? Someone had the audacity to break my sister’s heart and—”
“Zain,” I said. “Are you hearing yourself? Yes, you are a sultan and yes, she is the Princess of Azmia, but that doesn’t mean you or Khalid could protect her from being in love, getting heartbroken and growing up.”
He looked wounded and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Zain was pouting. “But… she is my sister.”
“And she will always be your sister, Zain. Give her the freedom and allow herself to love someone. Let her learn things on her own and maybe guide her with the heartbreak.”
Zain looked at me for a moment, processing my words and nodding to himself. Averting his eyes from the floor to me, he covered the distance in a few steps and claimed my lips with his. I gasped in surprise, closing my eyes and kissing him back, his hand warm against my cheek.
“I don’t know what I would do without you, Nasrin,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
“If she was my sister, you’d do the same, Zain. If not more. You don’t need to thank me for it. You are my husband.”
His coal eyes burned at hearing my words, his hand lowering to my waist, not caring that I was covered in sand. “Say that again,” he commanded, his voice like velvet, making my toes curl into the Egyptian rug.
“You are my husband,” I whispered.
He kissed me again, our kiss scorching, his gentle yet firm touch igniting shivers all over my body. That kiss was different from the ones we shared in the desert. They were sweet and tender. But that kiss was passionate and wild and raw.
As if he wanted to undress me right there and fuck me on the floor over the rug.
I whined when Zain pulled away. I heard the knocking on the door. He kissed the corner of my lips, “We should continue this later.”
I agreed too quickly, “Yes, we should.”
Zain’s eyes were dark and clouded when he took a step back. “Go take a shower and I will make arrangements for our dinner.”
The way he said it, I knew it was more of a command than anything. Biting my lip, I turned and rushed to the en suite bathroom to take a shower. After all, who was I to deny his majesty’s command?
After getting ready in comfortable clothes and letting my wet hair loose, I stepped out to see Zain talking to someone on the phone. A vein was popping out of his neck as he paced back and forth around the room.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, peering at him when he furiously ended the call, glaring at his phone.
Zain looked at me, his furrowed brows relaxing once he saw my worried expression. “Nothing you need to worry about. Khalid is being a stubborn ass, that is all.”
“Sit, let me help you with it,” he said, making me sit on the stool in front of the dresser. Taking a soft towel, he gently patted my wet hair and ran a comb through it. It reminded me of the day we got engaged, how he had dried my body with a towel after the bath.
I smiled at our reflection, wondering how I could have ever thought so low of him before. He was nothing like the rumors that I had heard in Maahnoor. Zain was a stern and just ruler, but around his family, he was sweet and kind.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Ask away, Sultana.”
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Why didn’t you sleep with anyone? You are a sultan. I am sure you must have had lines of beautiful people wanting to warm your bed, Zain.”
He met my eyes through the reflection, his jaw clenched. “I didn’t care about beautiful people wanting to sleep with me. I was twenty when I became a sultan, the youngest that anyone has ever been. I had a tremendous responsibility on my shoulders and still have. I didn’t think it was right for me to go to parties and have casual sex. So, I didn’t.”
Turning me around, he bent on his knees and held my hands, his thumb caressing the emerald ring on my left ring finger. “I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t have sex until I felt confident in my position to take care of that person, whoever it may be. Sex is not something that I value and I thought I didn’t care about it… until I saw you. I thought I would forget you after that night in the club, but after seeing you in the library, in the gardens, I knew I couldn’t. I saw your honey eyes when you glared at me for forcing you to choose me and not that sheikh as a husband. I knew I had to marry you.”
I chuckled and cupped his cheeks, the stubble grazing my palms. “That’s very romantic, Sultan.” He kissed my palm, and I added, “But I don’t want you to feel pressured about it. I am happy and content when you are with me.”
“So am I,” he whispered, leaning closer to kiss me. I closed my eyes, breathing in his musky male scent, the jasmine of my body wash. He had to pull away when someone knocked on the door.
I refrained from whining, glaring at the door. Zain chuckled and tapped my nose as he stood up, “It must be our dinner.”