In civilized countries, a witness must confirm the signature."
Rasyn didn't flinch, or even show irritation at the implied insult. "Abbas clings to the old ways in some things. The marriage is legal here. Nothing else matters."
Libby went numb. Nothing else matters. Other countries didn't matter. Prince Hani's opinion didn't matter. Neither did an insignificant little thing like her consent.
Even through the haze that dulled her senses, Libby noticed the veins in Imaran's neck popping out. "Cousin, are you insane? Why would you marry her? She is nothing. And she will cost you everything."
To her surprise, it was Prince Hani who spoke. "Can't you guess? He loves her. I would have done no less for my Sanurah."
"Then you understand," Rasyn said.
From the tightness of his lips, Imaran didn't. He glared at her with an evil-eyed stare.
"I would speak to your wife," Prince Hani said.
Rasyn hesitated for a moment, then moved aside. She found herself looking up into Prince Hani's face. Lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes, lending him an ageless wisdom. Close up, she also saw deep purple circles, a sign that sleep hadn't been easy for him lately. Concern for his wife seemed to weigh him down.
All was her fault. "I'm sorry," she said.
Bracing herself, she closed her eyes and raised her wrists in front of her, offering them for the click of chilly metal handcuffs.
But it didn't come. Instead, she felt herself being pulled into Prince Hani's embrace. The air whooshed out of her lungs, leaving her breathless and confused.
It was a second before she could breathe again. "Your Highness?"
The prince kept his hands on her shoulders. His jaw tightened, as if he were trying his best to swallow back some undignified emotion. "Hafida, you must call me 'idd' now—'grandfather'."
He heard a hiss, like air being sucked in through clenched teeth. Imaran. His face was petrified in a blank mask.
But it was Rasyn's expression that surprised her; there was something dark and disapproving in his black gaze. What had she done wrong?
"I don't understand," she said.
Prince Hani took her hand in both of his. His strong and gentle grip reassured her. "Then I will explain. The best doctors in Damali tell me that if my Sanurah had taken a single sip of that soup, she would be dead now. I am far from angry. For the service you've given me, I consider you a granddaughter. Anything I own is yours. And all the world will know it."
Libby struggled to process this new information.
His Highness twitched one finger, and the burly guard reached into his jacket—straight for the threatening bulge there. Instead of a weapon, he removed a velvet box.
Prince Hani snapped it open. Fiery jewels winked with dancing light. Scarlet rubies mingled with ice-white diamonds on a heavy-looking necklace and matching drop earrings. They would make any woman look truly regal.
Her mind reeled as he pressed the jewels into her stiff fingers.
"These are for me?"
"This is only the beginning of my gifts to you, hafida."
"I can't take these." She thrust the box back at him, noticing that her hands shook with the effort. "All I did was stand up too quickly. It was an accident."
Prince Hani gripped her shoulders, making her straighten. "It was the hand of heaven." His dark eyes gleamed with emotion. "Just as it was the hand of heaven that led you to your husband."
She looked over her shoulder at the man who was now her husband—at least within the borders of Abbas. For an instant, she imagined she caught an angry scowl on his handsome face—but then it was gone, replaced by the charming smile she knew so well.
Chapter Eleven
Blood thrummed in Rasyn's ears. Pacing his apartment showed weakness, but agitation kept him active. He told himself that Prince Hani's opinion didn't change Parliament's law. His marriage still freed him from the threat of the succession. His gift to Imaran.
The door to his apartment creaked. He didn’t have to face the door to sense who was there. Imaran was off entertaining the Prince of Damali, so it could only be one person.
As if he would have mistaken her rose-tinted scent anyway.
A deep breath stilled him. He was married to her now. She'd just escaped an evil fate. He was supposed to be happy about this, he reminded himself.
"Love." The pet name reminded him of happier times. Yesterday, in fact, when everyone disliked his fiancée and regretted their engagement.
Libby didn't meet his gaze, but faced the marble fireplace instead. Her arms were tucked