Нина Сингх – Christmas With Her Secret Prince (страница 2)
“I don’t understand,” his father began. “You were going to spend some time with the ladies in consideration. Then you were to make a choice.”
Rayhan nodded. “I’ve spent time with all three of them, correct. They’re all lovely ladies, Father. Very accomplished—all of them stunning and impressive in their own unique way. You have chosen well.”
“They come from three of the most notable and prominent families of our land. You marrying a prominent daughter of Verdovia will go far to address our current problems.”
“Like I said, you have chosen well.”
The king studied him. “Then what appears to be the issue?”
Where to start? First of all, he wasn’t ready to be wedded to any of the ladies in question. In fact, he wasn’t ready to be wedded at all.
But he had a responsibility. Both to his family and to the kingdom.
“Perhaps I shall choose for you,” the king suggested, his annoyance clear as the crisp morning air outside. “You know how important this is. And how urgent. Councilman Riza is preparing a resolution as we speak to propose studying the efficacy and necessity of the royal family’s very existence.”
“You know it won’t go anywhere. He’s just stirring chaos.”
“I despise chaos.” His father blew out a deep breath. “All the more reason to put this plan into action, son.”
The
His father shrugged. “Arranged marriages are quite common around the world. Particularly for a young man of your standing. Global alliances are regularly formed through marriage vows. It’s how your mother and I wedded, as you know. These ladies I have chosen are very well-known and popular in the kingdom.”
Rayhan couldn’t argue the point. There was the talented prima ballerina who had stolen the people’s hearts when she’d first appeared on stage several years ago. Then there was the humanitarian who’d made the recent influx of refugees and their plight her driving cause. And finally, a councilman’s beautiful daughter, who also happened to be an international fashion model.
Amazing ladies. All of whom seemed to be approaching the king’s proposition more as a career opportunity than anything else. Which in blatant terms was technically correct. Of course, the people didn’t know that fact. They just believed their crown prince to be linked to three different ladies, and rumors abounded that he would propose to one of them within weeks. A well-calculated palace publicity stunt.
“As far as being outdated,” the king continued, “have you seen the most popular show in America these days? It involves an eligible bachelor choosing from among several willing ladies. By giving them weekly roses, of all things.” His father barked out a laugh at the idea.
“But this isn’t some reality show,” Rayhan argued. “This is my life.”
“Nevertheless, a royal wedding will distract from this foolishness of Riza’s.”
Rayhan couldn’t very well argue that point either. The whole kingdom was even now in the frenzied midst of preparing for the wedding of the half century, everyone anxious to see which young lady the prince would choose for himself. Combined with the festivities of the holiday season, the level of excitement and celebration throughout the land was almost palpable.
And Rayhan was about to go and douse it all like a wet blanket over a warming fire.
Bah humbug.
Well, so be it. This was his life they were talking about. He wanted to claim one last bit of it. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not this time. But this was a new experience for him. Rayhan had never actually willingly gone against the king’s wishes before. Not for something this important anyway.
“Well, I’ve come to a different decision,” he told his father. Rayhan made sure to look him straight in the eye as he continued, “I’ve decided to wait.”
The king blinked. Several times. Rapidly. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’d like to hold off. I’m not ready to choose a fiancée. Not just yet.”
“You can only postpone for so long, son. The kingdom is waiting for a royal wedding... We have announced your intention to marry. And then there’s your mother.”
Rayhan felt a pang of guilt through his chest at the mention of the queen. She’d given them all quite a scare last year. “Mother is fine now.”
“Still, she needs to slow down. I won’t have her health jeopardized again. Someone needs to help take over some of the queen’s regular duties. Your sisters are much too young.”
“All I’m asking for is some time, Father. Perhaps we can come to a compromise.”
The king leaned toward him, his arms resting on the table. At least he was listening. “What sort of compromise did you have in mind?”
Rayhan cleared his throat and began to tell him.
“Honestly, Mel. If you handle that invitation any more, it’s going to turn into ash in your hands.”
Melinda Osmon startled as her elderly, matronly employer walked by the counter where she sat waiting for her shift to begin. The older woman was right. This had to be at least the fifth or sixth time Mel had taken the stationery out simply to stare at it since it had arrived in her mailbox several days ago.
The Honorable Mayor and Mrs. Spellman request the pleasure of your presence...
“You caught me,” Mel replied, swiftly wiping the moisture off her cheeks.
“Just send in your reply already,” Greta added, her back turned to her as she poured coffee for the customer sitting at the end of the counter. The full breakfast crowd wasn’t due in for another twenty minutes or so. “Then figure out what you’re going to wear.”
Melinda swallowed past the lump in her throat before attempting an answer. “Greta, you know I can’t go this year. It’s just not worth the abject humiliation.”
Greta turned to her so fast that some of the coffee splashed out of her coffeepot. “Come again? What in the world do you have to be humiliated about?”
Not this again. Greta didn’t seem to understand, nor did she want to. How about the fact that Mel hadn’t yet moved on? Unlike her ex-husband. The ex-husband who would be at the same party with his fashionable, svelte and beautiful new fiancée. “Well, for one thing, I’d be going solo. That’s humiliating enough in itself.”
Greta jutted out her chin and snapped her gum loudly. “And why is that? You’re not the one who behaved shamefully and had the affair. That scoundrel you were married to should be the one feeling too ashamed to show his face at some fancy-schmancy party you both used to attend every year when you were man and wife.”
Mel cringed at the unfiltered description.
“Now, you listen to me, young lady—”
Luckily, another customer cleared his throat just then, clearly impatient for a hit of caffeine. Greta humphed and turned away to pour. Mel knew the reprieve would be short-lived. Greta had very strong opinions about how Mel should move along into the next chapter of her life. She also had very strong opinions about Mel’s ex. To say the older woman was outraged on Mel’s behalf was to put it mildly. In fact, the only person who might be even angrier was Greta’s even older sister, Frannie. Not that Mel wasn’t pretty outraged herself. A lot of good that did for her, though. Strong emotions were not going to get her a plus-one to the mayor’s Christmas soiree. And she certainly was nowhere near ready to face the speculation and whispery gossip that was sure to greet her if she set foot in that ballroom alone.
“She’s right, you know,” Frannie announced, sliding into the seat next to Mel. The two sisters owned the Bean Pot Diner on Marine Street in the heart of South Boston. The only place that would hire her when she’d found herself broke, alone and suddenly separated. “I hate to admit when that blabbermouth is right but she sure is about this. You should go to that party and enjoy yourself. Show that no-good, cheating charlatan that you don’t give a damn what he thinks.”
“I don’t think I have it in me, Frannie. Just to show up and then have to stare at Eric and his fiancée having the time of their lives, while I’ll be sitting there all alone.”
“I definitely don’t think you should do that.”
Well, that was a sudden change of position, Melinda thought, eyeing her friend. “So you agree I shouldn’t go?”
“No, that’s not what I said. I think you should go, look ravishing and then confront him about all he put you through. Then demand that he return your money.”
Melinda sighed. She should have seen that argument coming. “First of all, I gave him that money.” Foolishly. The hard-earned money that her dear parents had left her after their deaths. It was supposed to have been an investment in Eric’s future. Their future. She had gladly handed it to him to help him get through dental school. Then it was supposed to be her turn to make some kind of investment in herself while he supported her. Instead, he’d left her for his perky, athletic dental assistant. His much younger, barely-out-of-school dental assistant. And now they happily cared for teeth together during the day, while planning an extravagant wedding in their off-hours. “I gave it to him with no strings attached.”