Once Upon A Time
THERE WAS A STRONGand handsome sheikh who was betrothed since birth. The girl he was promised to marry was alluring and exotic, passionate and intelligent. She was a woman certainly fit to be the sheikh’s bride and a queen in the future. The sheikh thought so, too, until the day his betrothed’s family came to his kingdom, and he met her.
His betrothed’s sister.
****
“YOUR HIGHNESS, THEYare here.” Aretha touched his back, and Mik’hail turned immediately, curling an arm around her waist so they could present a united front.
The day had arrived that his betrothed’s family was to come live with them in his palace, and the sheikh was genuinely looking forward to welcoming Aretha’s kin.
Her parents were the first ones he saw, a distinguished-looking couple he had heard only good things about. Lord Richard had known the late king, Mik’hail’s father, during their years in Eton, and it was because of the two men’s friendship that their children’s betrothal had come to be.
“Please.” The sheikh shook his head when Lord Richard was about to bow, and Lady Elizabeth had already raised her skirts to curtsy. “Formalities are not needed.” Instead, Mik’hail stepped down from the dais to shake hands with Aretha’s father and bowed in greeting to his future mother-in-law. “We are to be a family, after all.”
The words put the older couple at ease, and with a smile, Lady Elizabeth said, “May I present my younger daughter, Lady Aurora?” She stepped back and drew a girl forward—
And in that second, the sheikh’s life was turned upside down.
The girl was tall where her sister was dainty, and slender where her sister was buxom. Her hair was the shade of the sun, her eyes blue gray like stormy skies.
Dipping into a curtsy, the girl said sweetly, “Thank you for the welcome,akh.” She was clearly teasing him, the twinkle in her eyes unmistakable.
It had his lips twitching, but the rest of her family was horrified.
“Aurora!”Aretha’s tone was sharp with disapproval while their father sighed and their mother gasped.
Straightening, the girl said with cheeky innocence, “What?” She glanced at the sheikh. “You don’t mind, do you, Your Highness?” Her voice, even mischievous, was low and husky, and the sound of it did something strange to his chest.
Mik’hail slowly shook his head.
No, he did not mind.
In fact, he had a feeling that whatever this girl did, he would not mind at all, and that, the sheikh thought grimly, was the problem.
****
THE SHEIKH WAS ENCHANTED. He strove to hide it, even denying the truth to himself. But each day, the feelings became deeper, and it did not help that Aretha and he had begun to quarrel as well. Although they had never spoken about it, the sheikh suspected that Aretha was aware of his interest and considered it a personal slight. He saw it in the way she so jealously guarded him whenever Aurora was around, saw it with the way she would take out her anger and insecurities on her sister...like now.
Aurora had just entered the dining hall when Aretha started shrieking.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
The younger girl froze.
“Did I not teach you how to walk? To do it like a lady instead of galloping and stomping like a horse?” Aretha gestured to the sheikh furiously. “Do you want everyone to think that the sheikh is marrying into a family of Thoroughbreds?” She wanted to say more but was forced to swallow the rest of her words when she saw the sheikh turning her way with cold, dark eyes.
“Enough of that, milady.” The words, albeit softly spoken, were clearly a command. “You know it doesn’t matter to me. I do not insist on formalities with your family.”
Aretha’s lips tightened. “Don’t spoil her, Your Highness. You’re only making it worse. She needs to remember these things so she won’t mess up at our wedding.”
When the sheikh was about to retort, Aurora said hastily, “She’s right, Your Highness. Let me try it again.” Hurrying back to the doors, Aurora took care not to let her usual exuberance show as she retraced her steps, and she walked with such grace this time that she was unaware of how elegant she appeared, more so than Aretha could have ever aspired.
Aurora turned to her sister upon reaching her chair. “Is that okay, Aretha?” There was no note of sarcasm in her tone. It was clear in her hopeful expression that she only yearned for the older woman’s approval.
“It’s passable.” Aretha’s voice was clipped, but the envious resentment in her gaze betrayed her true feelings.
Aurora, however, appeared oblivious to her sister’s animosity and simply shrugged as she took her seat, saying cheerfully, “I’ll be sure to improve in time.”
