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growled. "She's your fiancée, for heaven's sake! Why can't you even say her name?"

Because things would get personal, Altair thought, and everything would change after that.

The accusation in Yara's eyes spoke volumes. She believed him guilty of neglecting the princess, and it was true. But if she believed staying away from the princess came easy to him...

Every night he would call her, and every night she would answer at the first ring.

Every night he would wonder if the time would ever come when she'd tell him she wanted out, but every time she answered his call, the princess' voice was just like it always was.

Soft. Clear. Melodic. And most of all, it was a voice that loved without having to express anything in words. And its sound gutted him to the core.

Altair wasn't even sure how it happened. Phone calls were all the contact they had between them. It had gone on for months, yes, but they were just fucking phone calls, and it wasn't as if they had spoken of anything of import.

And yet...

She had still gotten under his skin somehow.

And he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her then.

Yara was torn between anger and confusion at the sheikh's continued silence. "She's a good person, alshaykh—-"

"I know that," Altair heard himself say, but whether this was true or not...he wasn't yet prepared to know.

"Then why are you doing this? You must know it's hurting her—-"

"I'm doing this for her," Altair finally forced himself to say. "She's been sheltered her entire life, Yara. Who's to know if she's truly infatuated with me?"

Yara's anger slowly faded.

"With me out of the picture, it should be easier for her to know and understand if her feelings for me are real."

"And if it's not?"

"Then we'll end up with a political marriage of convenience."

"And if it is?"

"Then..."

The sheikh pulled a drawer open, and Yara's eyes widened when she saw what Altair had retrieved to show her. An engagement ring, even if it had the biggest diamond winking back at her, would still have been trash in her sight.

But this...

This heart-shaped locket was famous among Ramilians as they knew it to be an heirloom of the royal family.

Yara quickly bent her head down to offer a bow of heartfelt apology. "Khalis aietidhar, alshaykh." My sincerest apologies, sheikh. "I should've known better than to question your actions towards the princess."

"You only spoke out of concern," Altair said quietly. "I can never fault you for that." And that much was true...since he was the one lying through his teeth, and Yara had actually been right to suspect his motives.

Many mistakenly believed that Altair prized his honor above all else, but what he truly cared most about was life. Hadwin, his own father, was dead because of him, but the rest of his family was still alive. If lying to the princess or even Yara, for that matter, was the key to unmasking their faceless enemy and uncovering the plot against the throne...

"Since you're already here, there is another matter I wish to discuss with you."

"Of course, alshaykh."

The sheikh began to speak, and Yara couldn't help but frown as she listened to her cousin's additional request.

"You want me to spy on the princess," Yara said finally. "That's basically what you're asking for, isn't it?"

"Nem." Yes. The answer didn't seem enough, with Yara still frowning, and in truth, he expected as much. "There is still something that bothers you?"

"You're asking me to do this...because you care for the princess. It's not because you don't trust her and she's just bait to get her father to talk. Right?"

The sheikh simply looked at her, and Yara could only smile weakly. Right, right. This was Altair Al-Atassi, after all. He didn't fight dirty like all the others did, Yara reminded herself. He was the most honorable man in the kingdom, and she was just being her usual paranoid self.

Chapter Five

Dear Mama,

I wrote to Papa again. It's been eight months since I last saw or heard from him. Will you visit him in his dreams, just to see if he's okay?

SAFIYA PUT HER PEN down as soon as she was done writing and closed her eyes in prayer. After a moment, she carefully tore the letter into pieces before standing up and throwing the scraps into the fireplace.

While baring her heart on paper was entirely therapeutic, she also knew that her innermost feelings could only be a hindrance in her position, and it was times like this...

Deep breaths, Safiya.

Deep, deep breaths.

It wasn't as if the sheikh hadn't given her a choice. He had asked her if she wished to enter university, and it had been her choice to say yes. But then—-

How was she supposed to have known that the sheikh would not care to visit her while she was in Mushriq?

Surely she hadn't been foolish in thinking he would visit her, even just once?

It was rare for her to feel sad and irritated, but oh, when she thought of the six months that had gone by, and all she had gotten from the sheikh were perfunctory calls that made her heart race and ache all at the same time—-

You have become greedy, Safiya!

The thought popped out of nowhere, and Safiya's fists clenched involuntarily. She had become greedy, hadn't she? It wasn't so long ago when she had been living in her small and barren room in Farigha, her every move monitored and restricted. And now here she was, her life as pampered as the princesses she only used to read about—-

I'm sorry, Mama. I'm sorry, God.

Safiya only left the library once she was done praying all fifteen decades of the rosary as an act of repentance. From there, she went straight to the university's elegantly furnished dining hall, and Safiya saw that her friends were already at their usual table.

Just like always, Aurora was flirting over the phone with the Crown Prince of Layla, and Safiya almost found herself smiling at the cooing tone her flaxen-haired friend

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