Chapter 57

Six Years Later We arrive back at our new palace, built closer to the border between Nur and Sameer, after having been touring the kingdoms for the past few weeks. I all but collapse on the end of my bed. But there is no rest, because Khalid bustles into the room.

“They didn’t bring my toys in yet,” my overly tired and grumpy five year old complains.

I pick him up and sit him beside me on the bed. “I think your father is searching for the trunk now. We had a feeling you would be looking for them. Are you happy to be home?”

“Yes, I missed my own bedroom. I like seeing the kingdoms though. All of them are mine?”

“They are yours to rule,” I correct him. “It is not your right, but a duty. To rule over these lands justly and fairly when the time comes.”

And I hope my people, in both Nur and Sameer feel that I ruled that way. Much has changed in the years since I was crowned. In Nur, the lowered taxes and reparations given from the crown has made life easier for the people again. New businesses arose, and the people seemed altogether happily, pleased.

In Sameer, though there was predictably strong resistance from some, the laws were changed so women regained their rights. The newly appointed council took their positions very seriously and had ideas delivered to me daily on ways to improve their kingdom. Children were reunited with mothers who they were ripped from. Women began pouring into the prestigious schools that Azar had had built for only men. Women opened businesses and took back over the ones that had been taken from them. Women no longer needing to live on a stipend, thrived. Seeing all the changes that had taken place in Sameer was the best part of the tour.

But I am happy to be home, back from the cold and in the autumn that I know.

“Let’s take these traveling clothes off you,” I say to Khalid.

He unties his riding cloak and when it falls into my waiting hands, the marks on his neck come into view. The same as his father, smaller for now. When I gave birth to him and everyone saw his marks, a hush fell over the room, others not knowing how I would react, how they should react. Hamza picked up his son before even I could, holding him up for all to see.

“Good, he has my marks. He’s perfect then,” he proclaimed.

I threw my head back in laughter because I couldn’t have agreed with him more. Tradition had been for Hamzas to be taken away at birth, handed over for training in combat, how to handle what they would feel and see when they touch others, and how to be fair and just. But for the first time in our written history, a Hamza was the child of a Hamza. Who better to train him than his own father?

And even though I know he is a Hamza and will be summoned at some point to fulfill what those marks bring upon him, I named him Khalid anyway. I gave him his own name, so he would know he still had a choice in who he became.

“Khalid,” Hamza calls out, the sounds of his boots coming closer. “Don’t think you’re getting out of training today.”

Khalid’s pleading eyes turn to me, and I quietly laugh. I know how he feels. Hamza began training him with wooden swords a year ago. I train with Widad beside them, learning what it means to be able to use all of my magic for different spells, watching my husband teach my son all the things the only father he ever truly knew taught him. Khalid doesn’t know yet what his marks mean, what responsibility they bring upon him. I will give him as long as I can before he has to feel that weight.

“Run,” I whisper.

And he does, taking off for the door that leads to my sitting room and will have him back in the hallway by the time his father realizes he’s escaped. I hurry to wave my hand and make his riding cloak float behind the chair closest to me. Hamza comes into the room and looks around, not finding our son. His eyes come back to me and narrow suspiciously.

“You wouldn’t, by any chance, have helped Khalid get out of training, would you?”

“How dare you accuse me? You know, sometimes I miss the days when you couldn’t speak until asked to.”

He grins as he walks over to me, helping me to stand from the bed, my pregnant belly making getting up more difficult than it should be.

“No, you don’t. I wasn’t nearly as charming then.”

He kisses me, my arms wrapping around his neck. His lips are patient, lingering. And we have time for them to be. He isn’t called on nearly as much anymore, which I take as a good indicator of how things are in the kingdom. The cells were cleared out long ago, the guilty going back to Sameer for the punishments the council there decided upon, and only one thing was left from the darkness that used to cover Nur. But then Qarun died two years ago, alone, in the dungeon, the way he should have.

The former king was dead, and the people had taken very well to their new one, better than I’d thought they would. Many of them, as it had turned out, had summoned him or knew someone he had helped. When we married weeks after my coronation, there was a great turn out from the people, and Hamza didn’t have to say how much their smiling faces had meant to him. It was there in his eyes.

And right now, in his eyes, is love for me. The love that has never dulled or waned, only ever grown. The love that he has wrapped me in every night and woken me with every morning.

“Your intention has not changed after all this time,” he says low. “I never tire of feeling it every time I hold you.”

“And what are my intentions?”

“To love me.”

A kiss to my right cheek.

“And love me.”

And left cheek.

“And love me.”

Then my lips.

“Forever,” I whisper.

The End.

****

Acknowledgments.

First and foremost, I thank and praise my Lord. Not a single word would have been possible without His Permission.

This book all started with a dream. I dozed off while watching one of my favorite movies, and that movie bled into my sleep, giving me visions of a beautiful woman in a stunning gown, talking to a man who couldn’t speak back. I woke up intent on turning that dream into an idea, on figuring out what that man and woman’s story was. That idea became something I couldn’t get out of my mind until I’d written it down. What I wrote became this book that I’m so immensely proud of. So thank you to the movie Belle, and thank you to dreams.

Thank you to my husband for listening to me talk about this book so much, and never failing to tell me how amazing it sounded each time. I love you always and forever.

Thank you to my kids for letting me have the time I needed to get this book, and everything associated with it, done. You, yes, all six of you, are my whole heart.

Nina, for being the first to set eyes on this story and telling me all the ways I could make it better.

Eli, for the comments that got me through reading so many pages, so many times, and for the support that went beyond editing. Your love for this story means so much to me.

Kristen, for reading blurbs, looking at the cover, and just always being the amazing friend that you are.

Hafsah, for giving me the courage to write these characters unapologetically. To tell their stories the way I wanted, with the names I wanted, looking the way they were always meant to. Keep being an inspiration.

I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I did writing it. Thank you for picking this book over so many others.

About the Author Ari Reavis is a wife and mother of seven. Born in New York and raised in New Jersey, she enjoys staying in, devouring books and watching movies. Her kids are running around, her husband is trying to show her martial arts moves, and she's trying to write. Her day in a nutshell.

She publishes steamy contemporary and fantasy romance. Her books, while filled with love, also deal with issues that affect many, from trauma and abuse, to mental illness and discrimination. With each book, she writes from the heart, because she feels that’s the way to capture the hearts of readers.

Connect with Ari Reavis on her website.