Page 46 of Tall, Royal Hater
I wasn’t sure where the man had gone when he’d left the room—probably to start planning the fucking wedding they’d announced a half hour ago—but Mother was sitting on the sofa facing me while I walked back and forth before the TV. My nerves were strumming violently, not with any particular emotion, just one big, jumbled mess.
“You’re making me dizzy, Shehryar,” she said with a sigh.
I stopped abruptly, hands on my hips, and swung around to her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She straightened her spine, painting the picture of stern confidence. “I did. Several times.”
“No, Mum. You didn’t. You never once said you planned to marry Prince Arsh during our visit.”
The piercing pale-green eyes I’d inherited from her held a motherly look of authority, but it was softened by her gentle smile. “Because it wasn’t planned. It was an impulsive decision we made the day we found out the draft act had been approved.” Mum hitched her chin as I gaped. “But Sher, I am engaged to Arsh. We were going to marry one day, why not sooner rather than later?”
I could only shake my head in disbelief and frustration. We’d had this conversation so many times in the past nine months. There was no point repeating my worries, because she knew already, and I knew what she’d argue in return. That wasn’t what this conversation was about, though.
“Why not later?” I said, throwing a hand out. “Why the sudden rush to marry him when you’ve been waiting for four years anyway?”
A bittersweet smile touched her eyes and lips. “Because I have been alone for more than twenty-five years, Shehryar. And while I have been happy with my life and shared some moments with a few men, I have not had someone to love and to love me back.” Her faraway expression warmed with affection. “I have that now. I have Arsh. And I do not want to waste more time than I already have without him. So, yes, there is a rush, my dearest Sher. I want to marry him just as much as I want my next breath.”
Guilt stomped across my rib cage as I stared at my mother.
No doubt there’d been countless moments when she’d wanted a partner, a husband, someone to lean on and support her in every way they could. Someone to protect her. Because as muchas I’d tried to be my mum’s protection as her son, it wasn’t the same at all.
I tried to pretend otherwise, but Prince Arsh was that person, and it probably seemed like I was trying to drag my mum away from the happiness and love she had with him. I saw it too, that’s why I felt guilty for acting as the villain with my concern.
But my unease was real and valid. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have held on to it for so long.
I dragged both hands through my hair, growing irritated with the way it kept falling over my temples and the curve of my ears. The longer look suited me, but right then it was pissing me off. “Mum…” I sighed heavily, dropping my hands to my sides. “What happens when the world finds out you married him in secret before the act was passed?”
“A valid concern, but who in attendance will tell the world?” She nodded her head to the side in consideration. “And in the case that it does find out, it is only a private ceremony, not a registry.”
“And what of everything else? What happens when your engagement is officially announced and people start digging into our past?” Anger knotted my brows tightly. “What about Father’s family? What happens when they find out? What if they try to twist the story against you?”
Mother pinched her brows together. “And what of it all? Do I put everyone else before my happiness? Because if that is what you are suggesting, Shehryar, then I’m disappointed.”
I shook my head, striding towards her. I crouched down and pressed my hands to her knees. “No, Mum. It’s not about that. I just…I don’t want anyone to target or criticise you more than you have already dealt with.” I squeezed her knees lightly. “I want you to be happy. I just don’t ever want that to be at the expense of the respect you receive. Especially as a result of Father’s family.”
She cupped my cheek with a lovingly tender hand and pressed a long second kiss to my forehead. “I know. But it won’t be.” A slight flicker darted across her face, but it was gone before I deciphered it. “And your father’s family won’t say anything. He won’t let them.”
I scowled in disagreement. “The only person he knows how to defend is himself.”
“Yes, but in this case—”
Anger surged through me, sending me upright with it. “Why are you defending him?”
Mother let out a steady breath. “Your father knows about me and Arsh.”
Cold caution crystallised in my muscles as her words echoed in my ears. “What?”
“Your father knows that I am engaged to Arsh,” Mother repeated, looking me right in the eyes.
I recoiled a step, part in shocked rage, and partly to look at Mum clearly. “What? How? Why?”
“I told him. When he last contacted me.”
Fury was too soft of a word to describe the chaos that broke loose inside me.
“When?” I snarled, my vision clouded in red. “How? Has he been harassing you? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? What did he say? The fucking bastard, I’ll—”
“Sher—”
