His mother’s eyes widened, catching enough light in the dim room to shine a clear amethyst. “Oh, no. No. Nothing like that.” Her eyes went a bit misty before she continued. “No. He said yes without hesitation... He was about to have a daughter—she was due just after you—and he said he hoped anyone would do the same for his wife. And, of course, he was a soldier through and through, always ready to answer the call ‘for the good of Cyrano.’” She smiled at the memory.
The echo of the same words he’d heard in Mina’s voice pierced Zayn’s heart like a poisoned dart. Then his mother shook her head, as if the images were a fog.
“No. It was your father who took it further,” she continued.
“What?”
“That man.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, irritated still, even thirty-six years later. “He offered the man anything under the sun—insisted he chose a gift when he initially refused. He even had the gall to remind him to think of his growing family. It was that that did it, really.”
“Did what?”
“Gave him the idea to ask for your hand in marriage.”
Zayn would have laughed at her turn of phrase if farcical history had not been the stuff of his destiny.
“After your father had all but commanded him to ask for something, and then reminded him of his coming daughter, he threw out the idea of marriage. I think he was joking, really, but once the words were out things snowballed.”
“What do you mean, ‘things snowballed’?” Zayn’s didn’t bother to hide his irritation when he spoke.
“I was out of it after the transfusion. Ajit was out of it too. Your father was out of his mind with relief that both you and I had made it through the procedure alive. He needed a grand gesture to show his gratitude. One thing led to another and you were betrothed.”
“You make it sound like a one-night stand,” he observed drily.
The Queen snorted, continuing, “Your father regretted it before we even left the hospital. So much so that he went back to Ajit—and you know how much pride he had.”
As usual, his mother was siding with his father, but her statement, could not go unremarked upon. “I should think so. He was a great proponent for choice and true love, after all.”
His mother lifted her eyebrow. “You’re emoting rather loudly, dear.”
He scoffed. “I’d say I have the right.”
“This side of you is all your father.”
He ignored that. “You were saying...? He felt bad?”
“He swallowesd his pride and went back to Ajit to amend the agreement. They added a clause.If neither child should find love before they turn thirty-five, the two shall be joined...It was a small addition, but we all felt it would do the job.”
Zayn didn’t try to hide his exasperation. “This is all absolutely absurd, you do realize? You were real monarchs, you know—not fairy tale characters.”
She chuckled. “I was on a lot of drugs at the time. And your father... He would have done anything for us.”
The look on her face said she was momentarily lost, caught up in the memory of the man she’d loved more than any other soul save the son who stood before her. She came back, though.
“Besides, thirty-five seemed like plenty of time—eons away at the time. Of course, it all flew by faster than we could ever have realized...”
Watching his mother, knowing he was about to lose her to the pull of sorrow, as he had so many times since his father had died, he made his voice bitter when he said, “I should have known.”
“Should have known what?” she asked, reluctantly drawn back from the pull of his father’s memory.
“I should have known that his unhealthy attachments were at the root of all this.”
An edge came to her voice as she lifted her eyebrow to say, “Excuse me?”
“I should have expected this entire fiasco had its roots in Dad’s obsessive love.”
His mother gasped. “Zayn Darius d’Argonia. How dare you speak of your father like that?”
“My father put love before his duty to the nation time and time again. When he decided to let the prime minister handle public hearings two days a week so the two of you could spend quality time together. When he postponed the national exposition because your due date approached... And this—sacrificing my future, not to mention the fate of the nation, just to say thank you.” Disgust dripped from his words.