The Sultan's Virgin Bride: A story of lust, loyalty and passionate resentment. (2 page)

And then, she looked at her groom; at the exact moment he looked at her. Their eyes met, his grey, hers brown. Inside her body, blood gushed like a torrent, pounding so loudly she could hear it in her ears. His expression was inscrutable, but his eyes. Oh, his eyes were so expressive. They seemed to dance with thoughts and feelings – only she didn’t understand. It might take her years to truly understand his nuances. Delicious anticipation zipped through her. Getting to know him was a prospect she was joyous to have on her horizon.

Unlike western ceremonies, theirs did not conclude with a romantic kiss. But they touched. For the first time, it was more than an accidental brush. His fingers reached down and took hold of hers, and before the assembled guests, he lifted the back of her hand to his mouth. As he pressed a chaste kiss against the skin on the back of her hand, signalling to all present that she was his, his eyes held hers. And Eleanor thought she’d died and gone to heaven. If one small kiss on her hand could evince such a rush of feeling, what would it be like to be in his arms? And without hundreds of people watching?

She smiled up at him, a smile so full of wide-eyed innocence and trust that a normal man would have been powerless to resist her sweet entreaty. But he was no normal man. He was a ruler. Born to a long line of rulers. He turned away with a cold lack of response, and led her from the marble and gold wing of the palace. With each step, Eleanor couldn’t help thinking that she was moving into her future, and with Aki by her side.

* * *

“How do you feel, now that it’s over?” Katherine had taken her first opportunity to grab her daughter in a quiet moment. The party was in full swing. Eleanor had not really known what to expect, but if she’d been forced to describe what she anticipated, she would have said a staid, stately affair. And while it was certainly stately, the reception was anything but staid. One of Talina’s pop stars had taken to the stage and was singing a number of hits, while the younger guests danced the night away. Attendees were drinking fine champagne and the air of convivial excitement showed little sign of abating.

Eleanor did not need champagne though. Her insides were zipping with the certainty that soon, in a matter of hours at most, she and Aki would truly become married. A twenty four year old virgin, she had come to assume that she simply had no sex drive. She had not found it at all difficult to abstain from sex with Arnaud, despite the fact that he was physically attractive. If anything, she had felt a philosophical detachment about the whole thing. An academic curiosity, perhaps, but no bone-melting ache to be possessed by her then-fiancé.

But with Aki… one look and her insides seemed to slick with moist anticipation. Her whole body seemed to quiver when he came near, and she found it increasingly difficult not to throw herself into his arms.

“Happy,” she answered with a smile. “And relieved I did not trip, as I walked that long aisle.”

Katherine’s eyes was watery. “You were perfect. So beautiful. I was very proud of you, my darling.”

Eleanor put an arm around her mum’s waist. “You know, before I married Aki, I was a PhD student in International Law. That should make you more proud than the fact I married the Sultan of Talina.”

“Of course.” Katherine squeezed her daughter’s waist affectionately and simultaneously rolled her blue eyes. “Honestly, you’re such a stickler for this feminist business.”

“It’s not a ‘business’, mother, it’s an imperative on all women.”

“And that fits in with you marrying a stranger how, exactly?”

Eleanor’s smile was beatific. “Because I
chose
to marry him. Feminism is about choice. I was not forced to marry Aki. I was not paid to do so. And I am in no way uncomfortable with what lies ahead.”

“Good. Because I think your husband has the potential to be a difficult man.”

Eleanor put her head on her mother’s shoulder, and through the crush of people, she could make out Jak, and a rigid Michelle by his side. They were locked in conversation with a stuffy looking pair of men. In the midst of the celebrations, their group was sombre. 

“I would say that, of your two sons-in-law, my husband will prove the least difficult.”

She felt Katherine stiffen beside her. “Yes. I think you are right.” Together they watched as Jak spoke with all the appearance of civility that they had, at one time, thought to be true.

“Nothing good comes of marrying a man at twenty years of age,” Katherine muttered with a disapproving shake of her head.

“Excuse me, Mrs Rami, would you care to dance?” Nasir seemed to have completely shelved his concerns about the authenticity of Eleanor’s marriage. His face was beaming with happiness and pride. As he led his wife towards the dance floor, Eleanor heard him say, “I never thought I would get to bring you home, my darling. To show you all the things about Talina that make it so special. This is the happiest night of my life.”

And Eleanor’s heart soared. She had done it. Somehow, she had fixed a great sadness in her beloved father’s life. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked fiercely. She didn’t want to be seen to be crying. She dipped her head forward and cut a path through the room easily. Amazingly, unlike most other weddings she’d been to, no one stopped the bride to speak to her. She was not just any bride though. She was royal, now. Queen of a powerful country.

The palace was, as one would expect, enormous. Built on the back of the wealth of the silk traders, it sprawled for over an acre. White marble that glistened in the sun and glowed in the moonlight stretched four stories tall. And atop the walls were dozens of cupolas, some marble, some gold, some copper. Eleanor wasn’t sure she’d ever get to understand the layout of the palace completely, but becoming familiar with her new country was a task she was looking forward to. One of her attendants made to follow her but Eleanor shook her head. “I just need a moment, please.”

“Madam, my duty is to accompany you…”

“No,” she shook her head and smiled disarmingly. “I am in the palace. Security guards are everywhere. If you wait here, I’ll come back in ten minutes.”

The attendant seemed to prevaricate, then finally nodded uncertainly.

“Excellent. Thank you.”

Ellie swished through the long, wide, deserted hallway. The artwork on the walls was stunning; impressionist masterpieces down one side, and ancient Talinese tapestries on the other.

Her feet made no sound on the floor, as her flat shoes had a soft leather sole.

Half way down the corridor, she took an arch to the left, and then another to the right. She knew she was in the private wing now, because she remembered the portraits on the walls. She slowed her speed, and then stopped completely, to look at the gold framed, life-sized painting of Aki’s grandfather Amos. The man who had exiled her father.

He had died four years earlier. Long enough in the past to no longer feel animosity towards him; and yet she did. Hadn’t he realised that Nasir had no interest in pressing his right to the crown? Nasir was the last person in the world who would let ego and a need for power control him.

She stepped closer to the painting. Amos had been a large man, in stature. Similar to Aki. The same dark eyes stared down at her now from beneath beetled brows. She shivered. These eyes, in this face, seemed capable of great cruelty. She moved away quickly. Somewhere along here was the room she’d used to get ready in hours earlier.

She approached the door and then stopped walking. Voices drifted from across the hallway. Recognising Aki’s, she edged closer. It had not been her intention to eavesdrop. More of an instinctive curiosity. And had she not heard her name mentioned, she would have stepped away again swiftly. Craning against closed doors to catch whispered conversations was definitely not Eleanor’s style.

“Eleanor is not a bride I would have chosen for myself, and you know it.”

Was it possible for a heart to explode and yet for a person to remain breathing? She gulped and leaned a little closer.

Ryan’s thick Australian accent was unmistakable. “You hardly know her.”

“I know enough,” he muttered darkly.

“Yeah? Like what?”

She heard Aki’s heavy exhalation. “I know that she is motivated by a love of wealth and prestige. I know that she is dumb – for how blindly she walked into this union.”

“You both walked blindly into this marriage.”

Aki was obviously offended. “I do not walk blindly into anything, Ryan. I researched my bride. I researched her family. Not that I needed to. The Rami claim to the throne has made them well known to me. At none of our meetings did she so much as address me. Not a single question. How can I be married to someone so insipid? How can my country have such a weak-minded fool as its Queen?”

The color had drained completely from Eleanor’s face. She had to lean against the wall for support.

“I thought you said she’s some legal genius?”

He snorted. “A PhD student. Probably attained on the weight of her father’s wealth and name alone. Academic achievements do not equate to real world intelligence..”

Eleanor pressed a hand against her ribcage, to stop her heart from aching the way it was. It didn’t work.

“So why did you marry her then? You had all the choices in the world at your feet. Why her?”

“You know the answer to that,” Aki responded shortly. “The threat of those loyal to her family – to her father’s right to rule – would continue to undermine me as it did my grandfather. Without me taking this step, the country would be forever divided. Now? The two families that descended from the throne of our first desert King are one again. The issue is forever and finally put to rest.”

There was silence, except for the sound of liquid being tipped into glass. She would have guessed he was a scotch man, but she didn’t know. Apparently she didn’t know
anything
about her husband at all.

“Does
she
know that’s why you married her?”

“Unless she’s even more stupid than I give her credit for, then I presume so.” Perhaps Ryan scowled at him, for Aki’s tone was verging on defensive when he spoke again. “If she had asked me why, I would have told her. If she’d said to me, ‘Why have you come to my home and put this suggestion forward’. But she didn’t.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That it made sense. And it does. But I vow to you, Ryan, I will hate every minute I am forced to pretend an interest in my bride.”

“You married her for tactical reasons. I get it. So why did
she
marry
you
?”

“Obviously to remove the shame from her father’s shoulders.”

The sound of ice against the sides of glasses. Eleanor guessed that they were drinking. “That shows that she is of a loyal character, then.”

“Self-serving, more like. And yes, loyal too. Loyal to her father. Yet another person I must tolerate who carries an allegiance to a man who would never be King.”

Ryan swore, and his colorful language was something that Eleanor approved of. In fact, she wished she could belt out a few choice phrases in that moment. “None of that is this woman’s fault.”

“She is barely a woman,” he grunted. “A girl. An ignorant, foolish, American child-bride.”

Eleanor felt like a part of her was dying.

“She’s twenty four. A mere decade younger than you.”

“But sheltered and spoiled all her life, she might as well be fourteen.”

Ryan knew that when Aki had made a decision, he was generally intractable. He tried a different approach with his old friend. “At least she’s nice to look at.”

Eleanor’s stomach was in knots.

“Yes. She’s attractive, I suppose.”

“Attractive, you
suppose
?” Ryan mimicked his words back to him. “She’s hot. Why would you even argue that point?”

“I don’t know if I can find a woman desirable who is so averse to using her brain. A woman who’s willing to marry a stranger to placate her father. The idea of taking her to my bed is… arduous. She will no doubt be as unimaginative and bland as her lack of brain-power and spine leads me to believe.”

Ryan’s laugh was filled with surprise. “You cannot start a marriage with such a low opinion of your wife.”

“She deserves nothing else from me.” A sound of frustration. “We will have a marriage in the bedroom, because we must. But she will never be my equal. She will never be of interest to me. She is simply a pawn in a game of power. Controlling her by marriage is far easier than having her out there where I cannot keep even an eye on her activities.” He expelled a sigh of annoyance. “She is the daughter of a man I have always despised. Her very existence has been a thorn in my side since she was born, as her sister’s was before her. Without marrying her, she would have been a focus for anyone who wanted to create tension in my government.”

“Even in America?”

“Especially in America. Don’t you see? She was simply a faceless figurehead – a name that they could cling to. What if she married and had a son? What if I had no children? No. I had to control her bloodline, though it gives me no pleasure to contemplate the fact that my heir will also be of the Rami family. The very idea of pretending that I don’t loathe her is anathema to me.”