Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
My childhood frenemy is now the King of Ramil. And he wants me to be his queen? I'm a small-town librarian. He's the illegitimate son of a royal sheikh. And we meet once a year during the holidays.
I never saw him as a friend. But as a frenemy? Oh yes. So why is he suddenly asking me to marry him? And why is my stupid heart so thrilled about it?
I know I'd be a fool to say yes. But that's what I did.
I married him.
And found out too late that I was not the only queen in his life.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Athrong of well-dressed guests streamed inside the vast, opulent reception hall of the palace, all of them unable to help but marvel at the sheer magnificence of their surroundings. It didn’t matter that many of them weren’t visiting the palace for the first time. It was always an awe-inspiring sight, with its lavish use of gold and marble and the elaborate mosaic artwork embedded on the floors. Everything that could be gilded was gilded, everything that could be sewn with gold thread was sewn so. Majestic columns lined the imposing length of the hallway, and in between them, ancient tapestries alternated with ornately framed mirrors in adorning the walls.
Once in a while, most of the guests would pause before these mirrors, primping and taking selfies, with none of them bothering to check if their reflections were the result of a two-way mirror – which it was. A secret passageway running parallel to the hall afforded the Emir Sheikh and his most trusted vassals to study their guests at leisure, something they rarely cared to do...until tonight.
Time was running out for Khalil Al-Atassi, the newly crowned king of Ramil. If he didn’t find himself a bride tonight –
“At least a hundred eligible women must have walked past us already,” Malik remarked with a frown. “Has not one of them truly met your approval?” Tall, lean, and handsome like his cousins, he was the youngest of the Emir Sheikh’s vassals at twenty-nine but more than equal with them in experience.
“Ease up, Malik,” his older brother murmured. “The king is searching for our future queen, not just any woman.” A powerfully built man, Altair was made more dangerous looking because of the jagged scar on his face. It ran from below his left eyelid all the way down to the edge of his face, a constant reminder – and warning – that before being appointed as Ramil’s Commander of Armed Forces, he had once been the kingdom’s deadliest assassin.
Malik only shrugged. “I think it’s no different when buying a mare. You just look for someone with good lineage, the ability to breed, and how docile and trainable she is.”
“Not everyone enjoys the company of horses the way you do,” Tarif said in amusement. Of the five Al-Atassi sheikhs, only Tarif was of pure Ramil blood, and yet he was also the least bound to the kingdom’s ancient traditions. Instead, he was renowned for championing technological advancements in the kingdom and eliminating the cultural barriers that once isolated Ramil from the rest of the world. Despite all these, however, the media still insisted on portraying Tarif as nothing but a shallow playboy who only happened to be Ramil’s Minister of Foreign Affairs because he was one of the Emir Sheikh’s cousins.
“Considering the fact that our future queen is the only woman Khalil can have sex with for the rest of his life, I’d say he’s earned all the right to take his time in choosing.” There was a slight pause just before Tarif glanced at the Emir Sheikh with a wince. “I don’t envy you at all for that, by the way. The thought of having to fuck just one woman—-”
There was a pause, and then the other sheikhs winced as well.
Khalil only shrugged. “It is what it is.” His kingdom meant the world to him, the only thing that had given him purpose. He was a king first, a hot-blooded man second. As he would unhesitatingly offer his life for Ramil, the need to marry and remain faithful to his future queen was of little consequence to him.
“Exactly what kind of woman are you looking for anyway?” Rayyan, the kingdom’s Minister of Finance, asked bluntly. With ash blond hair and blue-gray eyes, he was the most foreign-looking in the group, but like Tarif, Rayyan’s looks and mixed bloodline were completely deceiving. He was the quintessential Ramilian male, and women to him were either a form of personal property or tools for negotiation.
“I want someone the kingdom would need and be happy with,” the king said simply.
“That automatically rules out eighty percent of tonight’s female guests,” Malik said cynically.
That was true, Khalil thought, which was why he was even willing to search for his future queen outside the kingdom. “A pure Ramilian would have been ideal, but at this point, I’d be willing to settle for someone who at least understands and appreciates our ways.”