his eyes in a stinging gaze. "You're still making excuses for him."
He couldn't hold back the words any longer. "You're still holding him accountable for his father's actions."
"No, I'm holding him accountable for his own. You think of him as you did when you were children. Something happened to him between then and now. He grew into a selfish man with a sense of entitlement, Rasyn. I bear some responsibility for that. I didn’t watch over him as I should have. It's time for you to open your eyes to what he is. He's not suitable to rule."
"And I am? I'll remind you that I was willing to do just about anything to get out of that responsibility. Including ruining—" He caught himself before saying something stupid.
"Ruining her life?" Anwar leaned forward, the crisp hospital sheets of his bed falling off his chest as he did so. "You were doing so for the best of reasons. My regret is that I did not listen to your reasons before this. I seem to have a lot of regrets lately. Don’t let the same thing happen to you, Rasyn. You care for her."
"I love her." He'd realized it in the limo on the ride back from Damali. It had been coming on so gradually that he hadn't been able to identify what had put him over the edge. Somehow, over the past weeks, her presence, her kindness and her unpretending enthusiasm for life had become necessary to his happiness. Now it looked like happiness was now beyond his reach. "But it's over."
"It's not over. Go, get her back."
Rasyn shook his head.
"You've been an ass, nephew. But surely there's something you can say—"
Rasyn cut him off and stood. "I won't talk her into something that she doesn't want. The one good thing that I did in all of this was that night in Damali when I told her the truth. I will love her all my life, but I will never persuade her to do anything again."
***
When Rasyn emerged from his uncle's sick room, he called to one of his guards. "Get me the prince of Damali on the phone."
The man gave a slight bow and began to... do whatever it was that meant Rasyn would be speaking to Prince Hani shortly. With a start, Rasyn realized he had no clue what that was.
"Wait." The guard froze on the spot. "What's your name?"
The guard hesitated. "Latif, Your Highness."
"Latif," Rasyn repeated. "You've guarded my back for several years and I doubt I've ever thanked you for it. I want you to know that I deeply appreciate what you do."
Latif's chest puffed out a couple of inches. "There is no need, sir."
But to Rasyn, it seemed that there was.
***
"I will not send her to you." There was no mistaking the ice in Prince Hani's tone, even over the phone line.
"I need to see her one last time. To set her free from me."
His Highness' laugh was mirthless. "The last time? I doubt it. She rules the country that neighbors yours. You'll see her at diplomatic events for the rest of your life."
He couldn’t hold back the well of curses that bubbled up inside him. It was true. And it was torture. For the rest of his life, the woman he loved would sit across from him, always present, forever divided.
"I only wanted what was best for Imaran. Libby would have benefited. She would never have had to serve anyone again."
Prince Hani's rich laugh reached through the phone lines. "If you think that royalty aren't servants, you should try even harder to stay off the throne. I pity your subjects. As for me, every day I think of the common people and how I can make their lives better."
The prince continued. "You seem to think that your subjects are the people who attend fancy receptions. I assure you that those are an insignificant minority. Most of the people in your country work hard simply to put food on their tables. Abbas is a country of farmers and shopkeepers. The third highest source of employment in your country is tourism. You, Rasyn al Jabar, are the king of servants."
The king of servants. He fought a desire to pound his head against the marble top of the telephone table.
He looked up into the mirror on the wall. His own black eyes looked back at him, dull and vacant above purple, sleepless circles. Had those eyes ever really seen anything around him? He'd thought his cousin would appreciate his