“Would you like to add anything else, Jazmina?” Rodrick asks.
To be honest, I barely read everything, trusting the judgment of the attorneys my brother hired. Even more than Kaled, they know all the terms of the marriage, including a likely ending, for which we have not set a deadline.
“Um . . .no, my fiancé. I think everything is settled.”
“There’s one item missing,” one of my lawyers intervenes. “It is a requirement of the duke that Your Highness agrees, Princess Jazmina. Please read page seven carefully.”
I open the contract expecting to see another property or even a joke. It would be very typical of Rodrick to include something like that.
Instead, I’m completely blindsided by what’s written.
Under no circumstances shall there be children from the aforementioned union.
I read it three times, but the words don’t change.
Under no circumstances shall there be children from the aforementioned union.
My throat tightens, and I can barely breathe without showing any emotion.
What I’m holding isn’t just a clause—it’s the certainty of the end, and more than that, of emotional distance. Children represent indissoluble bonds, even if the couple is no longer together. Rodrick’s decision not to want them before we’ve even shared a home says a lot.
I smooth the page to calm myself, and only when I feel composed enough to play the role of the indifferent princess do I turn to the man who spoke to me with the fakest smile in the world.
“I completely agree.”
Chapter 37
“I apologize once again for not coming in person to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage, Your Excellency,” I say as I’m ending the call to my future father-in-law.
The conversation was easier than I expected. Although he gave me not-so-subtle warnings that he’ll be watching closely how I treat the one he called his favorite girl, the former sheikh showed no opposition to Jazmina marrying me instead of one of the princes she was supposedly destined for.
Deep down, I think both he and Kaled understand her nature. My fiancée was not born to bow her head to anyone, and trapping her in that kind of marriage would only make her miserable.
I remember what she said the day we got engaged.
The marriage can last until one of us falls in love.
How could that even happen when we’ll be sleeping in the same bed, sharing our lives?
I can’t see myself wanting another woman as long as I have Jazmina beside me every night.
Still, the opposite might be true.
There will come a time when—even if she doesn’t fall in love with another man—she’ll want something I can’t give her: a family.
She tried to hide it well when she read the clause excluding children from our contract, but I saw the tremor in her hand when she picked up the pen to sign.
I stand up and walk to the window of my office.
She didn’t bring it up with me, but I know she was shaken. She’s just too proud to admit it.
Am I playing fair by bringing her into a relationship based solely on physical attraction? Because that, we have in abundance.
But even with doubts crowding my mind, I know I won’t give up being with her for as long as it lasts. Jazmina has slipped—without my even realizing it—so deeply under my skin that every time we meet, I crave more time by her side.
I’ve been careful not to be alone with her. I’m not used to waiting when pleasure is on the line, but out of respect for how she was raised, I will.
I have no idea how her mind works, but even if she seems quite advanced, marrying as a virgin is likely a rule she feels bound to respect.