Special Deliveries: Heir To His Legacy: Heir to a Desert Legacy. Elizabeth Lane
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she imagined it could be essential. That it could be wonderful.
“There’s more to life than duty,” she said.
“Not when you’re royalty, habibti, not then. Because the happiness, the future, of millions of people depend on you. A royal is both the most important person in a country, and the least. For they must give it all in the name of serving the people.”
Her stomach clamped down hard. “I don’t want that for him.”
“It is what he was born for.”
“I know.”
“Then you cannot stand in the way of it.” He looked back down at his paperwork, and she could tell by his posture that he was through with her.
She was through with him, too. For now. She wasn’t letting go of the idea. The certainty that she was asking for the right thing by asking to stay with Aden had only grown when he’d refused her. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was put her head down and soldier on, no matter how hard things were.
No matter how violently the storm raged around her, she knew how to keep herself safe. How to keep herself from going crazy. Even with everything happening in her home growing up she’d gotten perfect grades in school. She’d learned to insulate herself, to go to her mind, to ignore what seemed like impossibilities and find ways to work around them.
The only absolutes were in the scientific world, and she’d made it her business to discover them all. Everything else had room for negotiation.
She turned on her heel and walked out of Sayid’s office. Yes, she was done with him for now. Until she could formulate a plan. And once she did, heaven help the man that thought he could control her, put her in her place as easily as he seemed to think he could.
It had been several hours since his confrontation with Chloe, and Sayid had spent that time going over the news stories that had been written about Aden and the circumstances surrounding his birth. And the stories written about him. The uncertainty, the doubt in his ability to do anything more than use brute force to get results.
Chloe James was hailed as a hero. The woman who had risked the wrath of the remaining royal family in order to ensure the safety of their miracle child.
There was speculation as well of who would be raising the beloved heir. It was rumored, and it was true, that an army of staff and nannies would be on hand to deal with the child. And concern over what sort of influence Sayid would be able to provide. If he would show Aden anything other than the cold stone wall he presented to the media.
He was a symbol of Attar’s strength. Of its unbending attitude to its enemies. And his country knew it. He made such a success of the image that even his own people feared him.
The media wanted a family for their beloved prince. One that would fill the void left by Rashid and Tamara. And one thing they were certain about: Sayid could not fill that void.
But Chloe James could.
Oh, she was no natural mother, anyone could see that. But there was a need there, a fierce protectiveness that was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Even more than that, the nation recognized her as Aden’s savior, and by extension, theirs.
As dark as the loss of Rashid had been, it had been even bleaker still that he was the one left to rule. There were whispers of his incompetence, even throughout the palace. That he was too hard. Too damaged from his years away from the palace, his time as a prisoner of war.
The second son’s duty was to serve the country. Not simply as a soldier, but as the lead military strategist. Second sons were sent away to learn, to cultivate toughness and strength. Second sons could not afford to be treated with softness or affection.
The need for empathy was a necessary trait for a leader, but not for a man of war. A machine of war.
His uncle, the second son of his family, had raised Sayid for most of his life. A man who had seen much war, a man who had lived through things no man should live through. A man who had emerged with his sanity and who had set out to make sure Sayid was strong enough to do the same.
You are a symbol for the country, Sayid. An ideal. An ideal must never be allowed to fail, or everyone who puts faith in it will fail along with it.
So he had become more than a man. And in so doing he had lost his humanity. Something that didn’t bother him anymore. That required feeling. Feeling he didn’t have.
It had been Kalid who had taken that final weakness, that final bit of tenderness inside of him, and given him reason to cut it out of his chest on his own. It had seemed a cruelty then. Pain beyond measure. But the man had been showing him his own weakness, and showing him why it must not be allowed to remain in him.
Look at how your weakness betrays you.
So he had carved all of the emotion, the empathy, the love, the pain, from his chest, leaving it hollow. Leaving himself protected. Leaving others protected.
But Aden was born to be a leader. His requirements were different. His needs were different.
It was not in Sayid to admit weakness, and yet, in this area, there was no circumventing it. He was at a loss to provide love, emotional support, to the future heir of his country.
He picked up one of the newspapers from his desk, the one with Chloe’s picture on the cover, of her standing behind him, a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms.
They were positioned just as the royal family would have been positioned for a press conference, with her to his right, just behind him, the child in her care.
It could not have been posed better if they were trying to make it appear that that was what they were: a family.
His brain began to quickly slot things into place. Turning problems to solutions was a major part of his life, of how he kept people safe. And yes, he had failed in it before, but he had sworn he never would again.
Just a few hours ago, the desire Chloe James felt to stay in Attar was a problem. A slow smile, one that had nothing to do with happiness, curved his lips upward.
He knew just how to make Chloe a solution.
STRATEGY WAS IMPORTANT when it came to doing battle with the enemy. Whether the enemy was a super soldier, hell-bent on destroying you and your people, or a petite redhead with an affinity for whiteboards.
Yes, strategy was always important.
Sayid surveyed the room, lined with heavy wooden bookshelves that were now filled with books pertaining to physics and other sciences. There were work spaces, a large table put there expressly for the purpose of spreading several of the large, shelved books out onto its surface. A desk in the corner with a new laptop docked to a large monitor on it. And whiteboards. Whiteboards, he knew, were a key point in this tactical maneuver.
Where most rooms in the palace spoke of the old world, this one was sleek, modern and filled with every convenience Chloe could ever ask for.
Ultimately, this little show of bribery was just to make things easier. He knew what Chloe would say already. Knew it because she had shown her hand. Had revealed to him just how important staying was to her.
He had followed every rule of combat to the letter. He had found the weakness, he had taken hold of the power, and now he was ready to exploit it.
“You wanted to see me?”
Chloe walked into the room, scanning her surroundings slowly. Her movements were slow. Cautious. Suspicious. Good. Perhaps she was a bit more savvy when it came to protecting herself than he’d given her credit for.
He found it more of an asset than he might have thought. But then, the sheikha of Attar would have to be savvy. Particularly