Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 251(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
“Actually...” Jennifer’s tone was of polite amusement. “It’s the cornerstone of my platform.” The words were spoken in such a way that made the queen appear uninformed, and the other women in their growing crowd shifted uneasily on their feet. “I even spoke of this recently when CNN invited me to speak about Arab women.” She paused, a look of embarrassment on her face. “Or don’t you guys have CNN here?”
Harper refused to be sidetracked, saying simply, “We have it.”
And when it became clear that was all that the queen had to say, Jennifer’s smile became brittle.
Harper waited patiently, knowing the other woman was the type to want to say the last word.
And she was right.
After a moment, Jennifer started to speak, and Harper immediately cut her off, saying, “I’m glad to hear you believe in the same things, Jennifer. I guess that means you may have only misunderstood Kyria’s stance earlier.”
Jennifer frowned. “I—-”
But Harper, still smiling, cut the other woman off again. “You, as someone who believes in the importance of not imposing our own beliefs on others, should understand more than most people that her choice to wear an abaya must be respected, whatever her reason is.”
Silence.
“Unless of course you believe that her choice of clothing is harmful to others?” Harper paused. “I grew up in America as well, but perhaps it’s changed in the short time I’ve been gone. Is it different now? Are women’s clothes considered a murderous weapon – or was that you just being catty?”
Jennifer’s face turned red with rage, and she snarled, “How nice. Just because you’re a queen, you think can say such things to anyone—-”
Harper let her eyes go wide, saying with all earnest innocence, “Oh, but you’re mistaken. It’s because I truly believe in equality that I’m saying this. I may be a queen, but I’m a woman first. I have every right to be a bitch when I see someone being unfairly attacked—-”
“It’s not my fault if she can’t defend her own position, is it?” Jennifer retorted. “And you coming to her rescue is exactly why people think women are weak—-”
“And it’s people like you that make everyone think feminists are all idiots and bitches combined,” Harper snapped.
The AFK’s faces turned stony, all three of them recognizing the signs of the queen’s anger. Once her temper was riled, there was no stopping it—-
And they were right.
“Feminism isn’t about men versus women,” Harper growled. “If you really understood feminism, then your first priority is to find a way for women to help each other up and not pull each other down. It’s certainly not for one woman to belittle another woman – and wasn’t that what you were doing to Kyria?”
Do you get that now, you ninny, Harper wanted to yell at Jennifer’s face, but caught herself in time and instead stopped to inhale deeply, realizing too late that she hadn’t even paused to breathe in her entire tirade. And she was shaking too, dammit. She only shook this much when she was really angry, and this Jennifer woman was definitely—-
A sound interrupted her thoughts.
Clapping?
A moment later, and the applause became thunderous.
Holy shit.
Harper gaped.
She had lost her temper, and they were clapping for it?
As Jennifer stormed out of the scene, Kyria rushed to the queen, eyes glowing with admiration. “You were so great, Your Majesty.”
Harper cringed. “I was such a hothead, you mean.”
“Because you were angry for me,” the younger girl said loyally.
“I was, but I should have remembered to be more...” Queenly? But that had occurred to her earlier already, hadn’t it? She had thought about the right thing to do, thought about why she would do it and whom she would do it for—-
Don’t do it for me.
And in the end—-
She had done it for Kyria. For people who needed protecting. For people like the kingdom of Ramil—-
Oh.
Her head immediately snapped, her gaze wildly searching the crowd—-
And finally, her eyes met the sheikh’s.
And he was smiling.
Do you understand it now, wife?
She wanted to laugh and cry, wanted to wrap her arms around him as much as she wanted to throttle him. Damn him. He could have simply told her straight that he wanted her to be a queen who would put the people’s needs before everything else, but no—-
Damn sheikh.
Even knowing she could hate him for it, had hated him a little for it, the sheikh had not taken the easy way out—-
Damn sheikh.
Because he had trusted her more than trusted herself, had trusted Harper to discover for herself the queen that she could and should be—-
Damn sheikh.
And so he had not spoken a word and let her hate him instead.
Damn sheikh.
But oh, how she loved this sheikh—-
How could she not, when now all his actions made sense—-
And they were the actions of a man who loved her more than he loved himself.