Page 71 of The Reluctant Queen
“Your office, or here?” she asked, tone clipped.
“This is fine.” He sighed, sinking into one of the wingback chairs.
His mother flapped her hands. “What are you doing back here? You should be arriving in Appven today, tomorrow if there was trouble on the road. What happened?”
“I can’t marry her,” the words escaped in a breath of air.
“You can’t— what? Yes. You can.”
He tensed his jaw.
“Ehmet.Yes,you can. You must. Yusuf has called a referendum. It’s in seven weeks. Seven weeks!” She paced behind the couch.
“I cannot do it. You’re not listening to me. I willnotmarry Lady Tahereh.”
“It’s for the Crown, Ehmet. Youmust.”
He couldn’t do it. He refused. He’d had everything wrong regarding love, what itmeantto be in love, wasting all his time expecting it to come with strings—no, whips and chains—attached. Ehmet now recognized it had been creeping up on him for quite some weeks, and it was no scary beast. It was a playful kitten, or some such creature. He’d felt no rage with Hevva, no horrific jealousy, no boredom, no paranoia. Nothing but joy and maybe a bit of uncertainty, but that was to be expected. He could not marry Lady Tahereh for the sake of Selwas, he could not marry her with Hevva on his mind all the time. He couldn’t do it, come what may. The kingdom would not crumble without Ehmet, but gods knew he was falling apart without Lady Hevva by his side.
“Forget the Crown,” he blurted, losing the plot a bit. “Let him have it! We’ll move to Hewran Hall. Would he take that too? We can all escape to Karova—or something.”
The dowager queen blinked once and narrowed her eyes. She took a steadying breath and ran her hands down her bold magenta skirts. As she shifted from the role of former queen and unofficial advisor to “Mother,” the dowager came around front of the sofa and perched upon its seat.
He blinked.
“Why?” Her voice was soft.
Ehmet knew it was tearing her up inside to remain calm when the royal succession in Selwas was up for debate, but he appreciated the gesture. Although, he could see her feet kicking around beneath her dress, shuffling on the rug and swishing her silk skirts, pacing in place. She waited for his answer, recognizing the significance of the situation, because nothing, absolutelynothingcame between Ehmet and his duty. Until now.
He rubbed roughly at the back of his neck, pressing his fingertips into the tense muscles. With his eyes squeezed closed, he confessed, “I am in love with the Countess of Kabuvirib.”
“What? Oh . . . oh! Of course. In my solarium,really?”
His brows pinched and he cocked his head. Whatever she’d heard, she’d certainly misunderstood. In the royal salon at the symposium? That deserved a “really.” Or in the guest room in the west wing, “really?” wouldalso be relevant there.
“I spoke with the lady the second night of the house party, and in passing throughout, but that was our main conversation. I should have realized when she abruptly departed. But she sent a missive explaining there was an issue to tend to at home. I heard about her heroics at the symposium, too. Not to mention the way she gushed about the town, but perhaps her words were more about you, and I missed it in the moment. She loves Rohilavol, Ehmet. She loves herpeople. She lovesyourpeople.”
“I know,” his words rushed out ahead of a tightening in his throat when he learned his mother liked the lady. It didn’t change his opinion of Hevva either way, but it was quite nice to know.
“Why didn’t you say thisbeforetelling me to broker a marriage contract?” The dowager bounced to her feet.
“What?”
She paced back and forth between the sofa and low table. “Ehmet, why didn’t you tell me this? How long?”
He shrugged, feeling slightly foolish under his mother’s scrutiny. “About a month. I...we can’t marry.”
“Why not?” She eyed him curiously as if she couldn’t believe she’d birthed such an otherwise well-rounded fool.
“Why not?!” Ehmet boomed as he leapt to his feet and began an anxious course around the room. Having encroached on her territory, his mother sat back down with a huff. “Why not? Because Uncle Yusuf has called a bloody vote to determine the validity ofmycrown! That’s what caused all of this! Even if she does ever forgive me for the engagement to Tahereh—and other things—we cannot marry, or she will lose her votes and Yusuf will become King.”
“Oh, psh.” The dowager made a dismissive gesture with her fingers and Ehmet saw red.
“What the fuck, Mum?Youare the one who told me that I needed to marry Lady Tahereh to placate Yusuf and his allies.Youare the one who planned that blasted house party, the one that allowed Yusuf to garner those final votes through blackmail, or bribes, or whatever he is doing.”
“Youare an adult!” she shot back. “Not once did you express concern. I have heard you say before that you never wanted love in amarriage—I figured you took after Vahit in that regard!”
“What?” His fatherlovedhis mother, or so he claimed.
