The door opened, and he stepped inside.
He looked terrible. Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his eyes, and there was a tightness to his jaw that spoke of sleepless nights and clenched teeth.
Good.
It was delicious to see him suffering, but it was not enough.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
But first, she must exercise caution and patience.
“Your Highness.” She let her voice come out soft. Subdued. “I was half convinced you wouldn’t visit me.”
Mik’hail knew better than to react to the words. Unlike Aurora, who only saw the goodness in her sister, he had always seen Aretha for the woman she was. She was just like him, imperfect, ruthless, and dangerous when crossed.
He studied his former betrothed. “How are you feeling?” She looked weak, but he wasn’t buying it. He had a feeling there was more to her disappearance, and he wanted to make sure that she was not a threat to his kingdom.
Aretha made a show of forcing herself to meet the sheikh’s gaze. “I’m sure you already know the answer to that. And besides...” She swallowed hard. “I think I should be the one asking you.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m sorry, Mik’hail.” Aretha’s voice was quiet. Gentle. The voice of a woman who had nothing to hide. “I’m not blind. I know you’ve always had a soft spot for her.”
Mik’hail’s jaw clenched. A soft spot? That was the understatement of the century. A phrase that failed to capture even a fraction of how much Aurora mattered to him. How much she had always mattered to him, from the very first moment she had curtsied in the throne room and called him akh with that teasing twinkle in her eyes.
But he should have known she was too young for him.
Should have known the novelty would wear off eventually.
Should have known better than to believe a girl like her could ever truly want a man like him.
“When I regained my memories,” she continued softly, “I realized that life was too short to stand between you. I wanted you both to be happy, even if it meant stepping aside.”
Mik’hail decided he had heard enough about Aurora. The sooner he forgot her, the better. And that could only happen if anything and anyone connected to her—her own sister and his former betrothed included—was out of the picture.
He opened his mouth to tell Aretha the real reason he had come here—to inform her that arrangements were being made for her return to Suneria, that their betrothal was permanently dissolved, that he never wanted to see her face again—
But then she spoke again.
“I just didn’t expect she’d back out.”
Mik’hail paused.
Back out?
That was a curious choice of word for a girl who had dropped him for being too old.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Aretha added, her eyes downcast. “I know how much it must have hurt.”
He took a closer look at her this time. Aretha looked fragile and delicately beautiful in her hospital gown, propped up against crisp white pillows like a porcelain doll. But he also knew her well enough to recognize that her appearance was meticulously planned to the last detail. The artful drape of her dark hair. The pale pink of her lips. Even the way she had positioned herself against the pillows—it was all calculated to make her look as sympathetic as possible.
“Indeed,” he heard himself say slowly. “Her reason for backing out surprised me.”
Aretha nodded, her expression full of sisterly concern.
“I even asked her to reconsider.”
Aretha jerked. She couldn’t help it. The words caught her so off guard that her body reacted before her mind could stop it. The sheikh had asked Aurora toreconsider?
