Royals: A Dutiful Princess. Leanne Banks
right. I’m not.’
‘So if there’s any little service I can offer you, at that time and that time only, I will be sure to bow.’
For once in his life he broke eye contact first. If any other woman had looked at him the way Jazz had so briefly looked at him, he would have anticipated a very different outcome to this evening. High time for a reminder that when it came to the mating game, Jazz was so innocent she didn’t know the rules.
But he couldn’t ignore her for long. ‘You look good, Jazz. Life is obviously treating you well.’
‘Very well, thank you,’ she said primly. ‘You look good too.’
He huffed with amusement. ‘There’s no need for you to be polite with me.’
As Jazz’s eyes clouded with concern, he warned, ‘Don’t get into it. This is a party, remember?’
‘A party in your honour, Tyr, so I’m afraid you have to accept that people care about you. I don’t suppose anyone knows how to behave around you when you’ve been away for so long.’
He sat back. He liked this new Jazz. She was as much of a challenge beneath that prim exterior as she had ever been, but he liked the wild child from the past better. This new version of Jazz was a tightly strung instrument that only played to Jazz’s self-imposed restrictive tune.
‘It might help if you talked about things that matter to you, Tyr, like the ideals you were fighting for.’
‘Like what?’ He tensed. She had hit a nerve. It was Jazz that had the problem, not him.
‘Like freedom, Tyr,’ Jazz said calmly.
‘Freedom?’ He laughed incredulously as he stared at her. ‘And what do you know about that?’
‘What do you mean?’ she protested. ‘I’m free.’
‘Are you, Jazz?’
She couldn’t meet his eyes, and then she whispered, ‘You always represented freedom to me, Tyr.’
‘I did?’ An invisible hand grabbed his heart. Years of feeling nothing had hit the buffers tonight, he realised, and all thanks to Jazz Kareshi.
‘You’ve always done what you wanted, Tyr,’ she explained. ‘You could go where you wanted, do what you wanted to do, when you wanted to.’
‘You can too,’ he insisted, staring hard into Jazz’s eyes. ‘This is the twenty-first century.’
‘Not in Kareshi.’ Jazz smiled. ‘And we should stop talking like this before someone takes a photograph of us having this conversation.’
‘Britt wouldn’t allow the paparazzi within a hundred miles of here,’ he reassured her as Jazz flashed an anxious gaze around.
‘Please don’t tease me, Tyr.’ There was real concern in her voice. ‘You’ve got no idea what it’s like for Sharif in Kareshi. He’s doing everything he can to help our people, but a strident minority still continues to rail against progress. I’m doing all I can to reassure that section of our society.’
‘Public opinion will do that,’ he argued. ‘Sacrificing yourself will hardly be noticed in the grand scheme of things, but your life will have been ruined—and all by you.’
‘And if I want to do this?’
When he remained silent, Jazz shook her head. ‘I should have known you wouldn’t understand. You’re too like Sharif. He says I’m going too far.’
‘Well, aren’t you?’ he cut in.
‘The two of you are as close as brothers,’ Jazz said, ignoring his comment. ‘You can both do as you like, when you like, and you take that right for granted, but life isn’t like that for me, Tyr. I’m a royal princess of Kareshi and I have a duty to uphold certain standards.’
‘And what does that entail?’ His heart was sinking even as he asked the question, because he knew Jazz’s answer would involve more sacrifice, more confinement, more restrictions. Basically a smaller life for Jazz, and, knowing her as he did, that felt like a tragic waste of life to him.
‘I’ll just have to see what the future holds,’ she said. ‘Sharif has been approached by the Emir of Qadar.’
He had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.
‘It would be a great match for me, Tyr. Our two countries share a boundary.’
‘A match?’ He looked at her disbelievingly. ‘As in marriage?’
Jazz blushed. ‘This is only the start of negotiations.’
He raised a brow. ‘So you’re a bargaining counter now?’
‘Of course not. Sharif would never marry me off to someone I couldn’t get along with.’
‘Get along with?’ He spat out the words like something nasty in his mouth. ‘Aren’t you supposed to love the person you marry?’
‘Love?’ Briefly, Jazz seemed bewildered by the concept. ‘I don’t even know him.’
‘Do you think this is wise?’
‘I’ve seen him.’
‘You’ve seen him?’ he repeated. ‘Oh, well, that’s all right, then.’
‘Don’t mock me, Tyr. This is our way in Kareshi.’
‘Freedom to love should be everyone’s way in every country of the world.’
‘But Sharif has already broken with tradition by allowing me to pursue a career, and sometimes you have to be content. I agree that by staying in Kareshi I could achieve a lot, but if by marrying the emir I can take some of the burden off Sharif’s shoulders—’
‘Sharif’s a grown man,’ he cut in, having heard enough. ‘Sharif is a proven ruler. What about your life, Jazz? What about you?’
‘Me?’
He didn’t know which of them was surprised more by his passionate outburst.
‘Kareshi is my life,’ Jazz insisted. ‘Anything I can do to help my country I’ll do gladly.’
‘You’re repeating yourself, Jazz,’ he said. ‘And if you really want to help your country, why not stay in Kareshi and work?’
‘But the emir... I agreed Sharif could meet with him.’
‘And you can stop him doing that in a few words.’ He fixed Jazz with a stare, which she avoided.
Heaving a sigh, she glanced around, presumably to see if anyone had noticed this heated discussion. ‘I don’t want to stop him,’ she admitted, leaning close. ‘If my marriage to the emir will benefit Kareshi, then that’s good enough for me.’
‘What you’ve just suggested is outrageous.’ He sat back. Subject closed.
‘Fine words, Tyr, but you weren’t born into the royal family of Kareshi. You’re free to do anything you want and I’m not. It’s that simple.’
‘Nothing is ever that simple.’ As he should know.
Grinding his jaw with frustration, he had to remind himself that this was a party, and that it was better for them both to calm down. At least for now.
THERE WAS NO more chance to speak as Britt and Sharif had returned to sit at the table. In spite of his lifelong friendship with Sharif, he couldn’t believe his friend was going along with Jazz’s crazy idea, or that neither of them could talk Jazz out of the narrow path she had chosen to follow.
‘Stop seething, Tyr.’
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