“I’ve always thought you hated me,” she said quietly, moving a little closer so their conversation wouldn’t carry on the desert winds to any of the tribes people.
He kept his focus on the dancers.
“But you had no reason to hate me, did you?”
“You were marrying my brother,” he said cryptically. “And I could never understand why.”
“So you acted like you hated me?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. She lifted a fingertip to it without thinking, and his head turned slowly to hers. “I have acted as I felt,” he said simply, confusing her, because maybe she was wrong. Maybe the desire was all on her. Maybe she’d craved him for many, many years, and he’d simply resented her.
“You are a beautiful, intelligent American woman with the world at her feet. You have considerable personal fortune at your disposal, so I know you did not agree to this marriage for wealth. Why? What would make a young person decide to turn her back on her own culture and exist in the servitude of another?”
“You think this is servitude?” She asked quietly.
“It is not freedom.”
Her heart twisted. “You hate this, don’t you? Being Sheikh.”
“It is an honour,” he clipped.
“But one you could do without.”
He shook his head. “There is no sense discussing hypotheticals. The crown is Addan’s. I am simply minding it for our child. A caretaker.”
“Don’t do that,” she said, leaning forward of her body’s own volition. “Don’t diminish what you bring to this. Addan always said you were a natural leader. That you should have been the first born.”
Malik compressed his lips, and looked away. “Addan didn’t wish to rule.”
“No,” Sophia’s smile was wistful. “I know.”
Malik was quiet for a long moment. “He wanted to study. Philosophy.”
“He was a terrible philosopher though,” Sophia giggled. “He could never tell his Plato from his Ptolemy…”
Malik was still. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Kindness and goodness were his philosophies,” she said, softening, sobering. “But Malik? He was right. Between the two of you, yours is the temperament more given to ruling. And I think you know that. I think you’ve always known it. Is that why you stayed away so much? So as not to crowd him?”
Malik’s jaw tightened. “I believe we’ve discussed how I feel about you psychoanalyzing me.”
“I’m just trying to make sense of everything,” she promised.
“There is no sense that can be made of his death.” He turned to face her, and now there was a strength and determination in his expression. “Why did you agree to this marriage? Why did your mother consent?”
“My mother?” Sophia pulled a face. “My mother had very little interest in what Arabella or I did. She was just glad we were off her hands.”
“But your father actively willed this. He negotiated with my father for this event.”
“Yes,” Sophia nodded thoughtfully.
“But you were only young when he died. There was no compulsion on you to go through with it.”
“He wanted it,” she said quietly. “Your father told me again and again how they had discussed this union, imagining me on the throne.”
“I see,” Malik nodded, his brain almost visibly cogitating this development.
“I don’t think I really made a conscious decision. It just felt… right.”