The Defiant Princess (2 page)

The king swivelled his chair so he could face his son. “Of course. Everything is political. Everything is about wealth. Still, they're bringing heavy pressure to bear. A Council delegation arrived at our palace this morning demanding an audience. I'm certain they will be pressing for my approval to set a date for the wedding.”

“Lalita cannot be used as a sacrificial lamb,” he declared as he moved to face his father from across the great expanse of mahogany. “I won't allow her to marry Hamil!”

“I'm in complete agreement with you.”

“Damn Mustaf to hell!” Khalid cursed.

King Hassan picked up a paperweight from his desk and turned it around in his fingers. “Ours is a wealthy kingdom, Khalid. I'm ageing and you're unmarried. Should anything happen to you …”

“Lalita would inherit the throne,” Khalid finished. He raised one hand to his forehead. “Mustaf hasn't been able to win the wars on our border. He wants control of Turastan through marriage into our family. Now with Hazim's death, he views us as more vulnerable.”

Mustaf's thirst for power knew no limits.

“This issue has been a cause of great concern for me. Mustaf threatens our country's water supply, your sister's happiness, and our safety. Should Hamil marry Lalita he would have unlimited access to our palace. Lalita is second in line to the throne now. Should anything happen to you and I, she would be queen. Hamil has the same nature as his father. He would dominate Lalita and rule our nation. Lalita would become nothing more than his puppet.”

The king was right. Lalita was far too gentle in her nature to stand up to a bastard like Hamil. Somehow, they must find a way to stop Mustaf and his son.

“You think this is part of a far-reaching, elaborate plot,” Khalid said. It might sound fanciful to an outsider but to anyone who knew Mustaf and his son, it rang true.

“We must consider all the angles,” his father said. “You know I believe Mustaf capable of murder. If he could attack you and I from within our own palace and his son assumed power, our people would doubtless face the same hardships that the Rhajians now endure.”

“We can't give into his demands, yet if he carries out his threat to block our water supply this will mean a full-scale war between our countries.”

The king replaced the paperweight on the desk. There was a considerable pause before he responded. “You recall Hazim was betrothed to Akram's daughter?”

Khalid did. The betrothal between the Crown Prince of Turastan and the Crown Princess of Rhajia had been arranged by their fathers at the princess' birth, as Hassan and Akram had been as close as brothers.

“Of course. Princess Sabihah Faraq.” Khalid shrugged. “She disappeared when she was eight years old.”

“The daughter of my dearest friend,” the king inserted on a heavy sigh.

Khalid remembered the vivacious child who'd inherited the blonde hair and blue eyes of her Swedish mother. He'd met her briefly in his early teens.

“Her death was a tragedy, but I don't understand why you speak of it now.”

Holding his son's gaze, the king stated quietly, “Her body was never found.”

Khalid ignored his growing impatience and willed himself to sit back down. They should be discussing how to thwart Mustaf's plans, not dredging up the past. “That's hardly surprising. I was told she and her parents were visiting a Bedouin camp and she wandered away just before a severe sandstorm hit. There would have been little hope of recovering her body in the desert. Why do you bring this up now?”

His father's features were hard. “Her disappearance was staged.”

“What?” Khalid's head jerked back a little as he stared at his father.

“The whole royal family was in danger. Akram had heard whispers that Mustaf was making plans to seize the throne. Although he had no conclusive evidence, he took steps to protect his daughter. Thank God he did. A week after Sabihah's disappearance, her parents were assassinated.”

Kahlid knew that. “What happened to the princess?”

The ruler of Turastan focused on his aged fingers steepled on the polished surface of the desk. “Akram was a wonderful man. A wise leader who brokered stability and peace in our region. But, as you know, his brother was always vastly different. Mustaf was a military commander who thrived on conflict. He didn't approve of the peace plans or of the alliances formed.”

“I know all this,” Khalid cut through his father's reminiscing, needing him to get to the point. “I know everyone suspects Mustaf was behind the assassination of his brother. Tell me what happened to the princess.”

“She was taken away—hidden for her own safety.”

Khalid stood and glared at his father. “Have you known this all along?”

His father nodded. “I was one of the few people who knew of the plan.”

“And you've never thought to mention it before now?” Khalid spoke through teeth clamped tight with barely restrained anger.

“The fewer people who knew, the better,” King Hassan said without apology.

“Did Hazim know?”

“No,” the king denied immediately. “Sabihah had to be protected from Mustaf. It was safer for her this way.”

Although he was furious at having been denied the information, Khalid saw the truth of his father's words. An individual capable of killing his brother to attain the ultimate power he craved would not hesitate to search for and kill a child. For a moment, he gripped the edge of the desk as the enormous ramifications of the king's announcement hit home.

Princess Sabihah was the rightful heir to the Rhajian throne.

“Where the hell is she?”

“Safe.”

“Why do you allow Mustaf to rule when Sabihah should be crowned as Queen?”

The king stood. “Khalid—”

“This animosity between our countries could've been ended years ago!” He turned away as he released a hiss of frustration. He couldn't begin to fathom his father's inaction.

“You forget, she was only a child and in need of protection.”

Spinning back on his heel, he was all aggression as he said, “That child has grown up and she should have deposed Mustaf long ago. Damn it! I can't believe you've sat on this. I don't understand why you've allowed Mustaf to rule—why you allowed Hazim to marry Barika when his marriage to Sabihah could've put an end to the hostilities between our two countries.”

For a moment, they both simply stood in the emotionally-charged room, eyes locked. Somewhat shocked at his own outburst, Khalid realised it was the first time he'd ever opposed his father so vehemently.

His father turned away first, walking slowly around the desk as he broke the silence. “Sabihah was taken to London in secret. Her nanny—supposedly dismissed for allowing the princess to wander off into the desert alone—was actually charged with her care. In the event of a successful assassination attempt on the king and queen, she was told to protect the princess.” He made a gesture of resignation with his hands. “Apart from Sabihah's parents and the nanny, the only other person who knew her exact location was the head of Rhajian security. He was killed during the assassination. I tried to find them but they vanished so well it was like they never existed. I didn't know whether they were alive or dead. I stopped searching soon afterwards in case word of my investigations reached Mustaf and placed Sabihah in danger.”

“You said she was safe, but for all you know she may well be dead.” Disappointment made Khalid bite out each word.

“A couple of weeks ago, just before Mustaf issued his ultimatum, I received a phone call from our ambassador in Australia.' The king returned to the desk and perched himself on the corner. “He told me of an incident there that made headline news.”

Khalid suppressed a groan as he wondered where this new topic of conversation was leading.

“A young school teacher was on a field trip with her class. There was an accident and the bus caught fire. The teacher managed to get all the children out safely then went back into the flames to help the injured driver out.”

“Please Father, get to the point. What does an Australian bus accident have to do with our current difficulties?”

“Our ambassador was struck by the physical appearance of the young woman. He said she could be the double of the former Queen of Rhajia.”

Khalid frowned. “What are you suggesting? We go to this school teacher and have her pretend to be the lost Princess Sabihah?”

“Son, you should know me better than that,” his father admonished. “I would never stoop to such deceit.”

Khalid gave a slight bow. “I apologise, Father. I can see no other relevance to this.”

“The teacher's name was Sabrina St. George. Sabihah's nanny was Helen St. George.” An excited light entered his eyes and the weary, worried expression he'd worn was replaced by hope as he stood once more. “I decided to make investigations. As I suspected, the young school teacher does not need to pretend to be Princess Sabihah, for she is indeed the lost princess.”

“No.” Khalid shook his head in disbelief. “After all these years you've found her?”

“Fortunately, yes. She's alive and well in Australia. Apparently the nanny thought that was the safest place for her. Sabihah is now teaching in an outback school.”

“But, why hasn't she—?”

“She has no idea of her true identity.”

“What?” The king's tale grew increasingly baffling.

“The queen wanted her daughter to have a new identity. To be kept far out of Mustaf's reach. Her former nanny assumed the role of her aunt, and the truth was kept from Sabihah for her own safety.”

“That's ridiculous. She's living a lie!”

“I agree, my son.” The king nodded, eyes alight with determination. “It was King Akram's wish that his daughter return to Rhajia when the time was right and I could assure her safety. He wanted her to claim her rightful place on the throne.”

As Khalid sat, his mind raced. “You're positive it's her?”

“Without doubt.” He smiled. “It's Princess Sabihah. Not only is she the image of her mother, but she's still living with her former nanny. For the good of both our countries she must return to Rhajia as soon as possible.”

Khalid ran the fingers of one hand through his hair as he tried to absorb all the information. “You want her to come back and depose Mustaf but you said she doesn't know who she is?”

“I've spoken with Helen St. George.” He made a sound of disgust. “She was unhelpful, refusing to cooperate and tell Sabihah the truth. It's up to you to go to Australia and tell the princess who she is. You must inform her of her responsibilities and bring her back here so we can prepare her for her new life.”

Thoughts chased each other through Khalid's brain at a million miles an hour
.

“It seems like the obvious solution. But we're talking about a princess raised as a commoner in a foreign country,” he objected. “A princess with no affinity for her people.”

“She will learn these things.”

Khalid grew increasingly exasperated. The more he thought about his father's expectations the less workable they seemed. “You may have confirmed her identity, but how do you know she'll want to come back to assume the throne?”

“She's the Princess of Rhajia!” A royal fist struck the desk. “She must do her duty to her people. She must honour her father's memory and his wishes.”

“I agree that would solve our problems. But we can't force her to accept her birthright.” Khalid said. “Worse still, what if she wants to for all the wrong reasons?”

“You either bring back Princess Sabihah or we face war.”

Khalid groaned. “Father, either way this may end in war. Mustaf won't give up the throne without a fight.”

“The council will support the coronation of the rightful ruler. Akram was very popular in the council.”

“That didn't stop him from being killed,” Khalid pointed out.

King Hassan resumed his seat behind the desk. “I have renewed investigations into Akram's death.”

“Why? Do you really think you can prove Mustaf's guilt after so much time has elapsed?”

“There are some in Mustaf's inner circle who are disillusioned and may help once a new ruler is clearly identified.”

Khalid doubted any would come forward after so many years.

“It would be better to have Mustaf behind bars once Sabihah is queen,” his father said. “I need to build a case against him so that he doesn't pose a threat to her rule.”

Khalid leaned forward. “So the first thing is to get Sabihah to rule Rhajia and to depose Mustaf. But, placing a crown on her head won't be the end of Rhajia's problems. Sabihah won't know anything about ruling a country.”

“She will need strong guidance,” the king agreed. He picked up a folder from his desk. “You must leave immediately, and in secret. Bring her back as soon as possible.”

“That's a tall order.”

The king glanced away from Khalid. “We have been born into positions of power. With power comes responsibility. We must do our duty, and so must she. You will make her realise this. We must all do what's right for the people of our country and put their needs ahead of our own.”

Khalid's jaw clenched tight. With sudden clarity he recalled his father telling him earlier his future would be affected. “What exactly aren't you telling me?”

Their eyes locked as the king told him, “Sabihah was betrothed to the Crown Prince of Turastan.”

“Yes, but Hazim is dead.”

The king nodded. “You are the new Crown Prince.”

Khalid felt his jaw slacken and his eyes widen as king's meaning hit home.

“Sabihah is now your betrothed.”

Five words delivered by King Hassan with devastating simplicity. Words that rocked Khalid's world off its axis.