The Sheik’s Expecting Bride by Erin Snihur
9
Hasna’s gaze keeps drifting from Mahdi to the wooden doors before her.
“This cannot be happening,” she murmurs, mostly to herself, as she begins pacing once more before the doors. Inside her uncle’s study two men are deciding her child’s fate and without even knowing it.
Feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous, Hasna begins playing with the fabric of her hijab. As she slows her pacing to meet Mahdi’s concerned glare, she raises an eyebrow pointedly at him for him to say what is so clearly written across his face.
Mahdi finally offers, “Perhaps you should have told the sheik the truth about why you came looking for Nashat. If you had, none of this would be happening.”
Hasna scoffs in frustration and shakes her head, swallowing the bile rising up her throat that threatens to escape.
“I can’t tell him the truth, not after what we both promised: to forget that night ever happened. He’s going in a completely different direction than I am. What can I bring to the table?”
Mahdi scoffs and runs a hand over his closely shorn hair as he sighs and mutters, “This is madness. You will have his heir.”
Hasna shakes her head, thinking her friend doesn’t understand, and swipes away the bead of sweat that threatens to leak out from underneath her hijab.
“That’s not good enough. Any number of his suitors will be bringing land, money, and economic growth to the marital discussion table. All I would be bringing is his child, born out of wedlock on a night that was built on lies.”
“Should we tell Bandar that you are unwell and cannot meet with Sadi el-Salahuddin?”
Hasna shakes her head, recalling the moment Uncle Bandar came to her at breakfast that morning and informed her that Sadi el-Salahuddin would be visiting to begin discussions regarding their impending marriage. Tensing at the sound of the older man’s name, her fiancé, Hasna shivers with disgust.
Since the gala in Musat, Sadi had been spending more and more time on her uncle’s estate. This was done mostly under the pretense of business that he had with her uncle, but Hasna knew the truth. All that vile man wanted was her, or rather, what she could give him physically. Something she never wanted to give another man.
You gave into Kamran pretty willingly, a teasing voice pipes up at the back of her mind. Shivering at the memory of spending that night with Kamran, Hasna flushes red and inwardly argues back, That will never happen again.
As her hand comes to rest on her flat stomach, Hasna inwardly groans. If I must marry this man to protect my child then I will, even if it means marrying a man in his late fifties. The best way to describe the man her uncle was pressuring her to marry was as a hardened criminal who uses his oil businesses as a way to exploit those around him.
A week ago, Hasna had been sitting down and having dinner with Kamran, discussing their night together that had to be forgotten. In that moment, Hasna had never felt more at peace internally, at least not since before her parents’ deaths.
Was it possible that the mere presence of Kamran infused in her the courage and bravado to stand up to her uncle?Stopping in her pacing, Hasna glares at the doors of the study.
“Perhaps I should confront Uncle Bandar about my inheritance?” Hasna whispers for only Mahdi to hear.
Mahdi nods slowly and murmurs, “You won’t have access to it unless...”
Hasna interrupts with a gut-clenching whisper, “Unless I marry.”
“With the money from your inheritance, you and the child could live a moderate lifestyle. Perhaps even in the Jazah Mountains,” Mahdi murmurs and glances at the door. They both tense up at the sound of deep chuckles and cheers being had by Uncle Bandar and Sadi.
Hasna shivers at the sound of her uncle’s footsteps getting closer and closer to the study doors, no doubt about to open them so that he might thrust her into Sadi’s cruel control and be done with her. Finally rid of the familial burden, as he has always wanted and always vocally mentioned.
Her eyes blur with tears at the mere thought as they begin to run down her face. Suddenly, a pain stabs through her skull. Hasna brushes her palm against her forehead, wincing when the feeling of her high temperature warms her skin.
When was the last time you ate, you fool? You’re eating for two, you know!
Feeling her ankles and knees begin to buckle, Hasna nearly falls to the ground. Luckily, Mahdi seems to sense this and jumps to attention in time to grab her before she falls flat on her face.
“Hasna?” Mahdi cries out, his voice sounding distant and muffled as if she were underwater, drowning like her parents did all those years ago. Hasna knows this couldn’t be possible. She hasn’t gone in the water since that fateful day; even a shower or bath makes her feel claustrophobic.
“Are you sure you’re okay…”
Before Mahdi can finish his question, bile rises up in her throat and she gags on it. Scrambling out of his arms, Hasna aims for the potted vase that stands as a decoration in the hallway. Throwing up her meager stomach contents, Hasna ignores Mahdi as he calls out her name.
At that same moment, she can hear the sound of the study doors opening and her uncle’s growls. His growls of confusion grow as he steps out of the private room.
“What in Allah’s name is going on here?”
Before Hasna can apologize to her uncle, Mahdi catches her as she collapses to her knees. The last thing she hears is her name being called. None of the voices are the ones she truly wishes to hear call her name…
Sheik Kamran al-Rafiq.
* * *
An hourafter her fainting spell, Hasna finds herself sitting against the headboard and under the covers of her bed. She does not dare speak. She can only simply stare straight ahead, across the bedroom towards the doors where her family’s personal physician is explaining her prognosis.
The doctor’s words, while quite soft and clinical, still reach her ears as her uncle swings her furious glances every few seconds.
The doctor’s hands shake slightly as he glances between Hasna and her red-faced uncle. Hasna’s ears perk up when the doctor murmurs, “Your niece is possibly only a month long, Mister al-Noor. The test is not the only test we can complete if you were to escort your niece to my office. We can complete a blood test to confirm and even measure her HCG levels.”
“No thank you, Doctor, we shall deal with this…” Uncle Bandar’s glare intensifies and lands on her as he hisses the last word, “discreetly.”
As the doctor departs the room, Uncle Bandar steps back inside and glares at Mahdi. Her guard watches with his hawk-like eyes from the corner of the room as his arms cross over his bulky chest.
“You are dismissed,” Uncle Bandar hisses, tensing up as he, too, matches Mahdi’s position with his arms crossed across his chest.
To her shock, Mahdi seems as if he is about to argue when she shoots him pleading glance, not wanting her only friend to get into trouble. When Hasna shoots him another pleading glance, she forcefully shakes her head.
“I’ll be waiting outside if you need anything,” Mahdi murmurs pointedly to her before finally leveling one last glare in Uncle Bandar’s direction.
Following behind him, Uncle Bandar closes the door with a flick of his wrist and grumbles, “Impertinent man. I should just fire him.”
Spinning around to face her, Uncle Bandar growls lowly, “I hope you are happy now. Sadi el-Salahuddin might have been able to overlook your complete lack of respect towards our culture or to your family’s heritage, but now that you have brought this shame upon your family with your sin…”
Hasna opens her mouth and interrupts quickly before his insults can continue, “Uncle, I mean no disrespect, but I’m not sure Sadi was the right match…”
“Your thoughts on the issue did not matter,” he growls and takes another step towards her bed as she pulls the blanket tighter around her slim form.
“Now tell me, Hasna, who has ruined my chance at retaking my rightful place among the elites?”
Cringing, Hasna bites her bottom lip and whispers, “It was a one-time occurrence. It doesn’t matter who…”
Fists clenching together, Uncle Bandar hisses, “You will tell me the truth, Hasna, or so help me, your child will be born on the street.”
Then his eyes turn sharp. “Unless you prefer to end this torrid affair once and for all.” At the confused look on her face, Uncle Bandar grins evily. “I can have the good doctor remove the problem.”
Hand instinctively protecting her stomach, Hasna whispers, “I won’t let you kill my child.”
“Then tell me who the father is, Hasna, or has your mother’s whorish behavior leeched into you as well? From beyond the grave?”
Hasna struggles to sit up straighter as she glares back at her insulting uncle. “My mother was no whore.”
“She was,” Uncle Bandar exclaims. “She lured your father, my brother, away and ruined any chance at my taking the Jazah throne.”
“Father saved our people from destitution and starvation. The people of Jazah are better off being citizens of Nilan,” Hasna protests.
“We shall see,” Uncle Bandar mutters conspiratorially, “Now, tell me who is the father of your illegitimate child.”
When she doesn’t answer right away, Uncle Bandar marches to the doors of her bedroom and rests one hand on the doorknob.
“The doctor gave me the timeline of conception, you foolish girl. Do you think that I cannot find out myself?” When she keeps silent, Uncle Bandar scoffs, “I’m assuming it happened the night of that infernal gala in Musat, when you did not return with a suitor at hand.”
Crossing his arms, Uncle Bandar’s eyes squint. “Or perhaps you did find someone and the suitor found you just as repulsive, with a complete lack of class and morals.”
“Uncle, you cannot talk to me like that.” Hasna raises her chin, but her bottom lip wobbles as his grin turns devilish.
“Yes, I can, child. Until you are under the protection of your husband, I control all of your assets and inheritances. Now, tell me who the father is, Hasna,” he repeats, his fists shaking as he clenches them tightly in her direction. Hasna winces, fearing that they might land against her cheek, or worse, her unprotected stomach.
Shoulders drooping, Hasna caresses her stomach. Her mind drifts to Kamran. He had always been so kind to her, before his major lie. He did not deserve her uncle’s schemes.
Whispering softly, Hasna shakes her head and manages to come up with a lie, “It was an American diplomat. I do not know his real name, but it doesn’t matter. He’s married.”
Glancing up into her uncle’s hard and icy eyes, Hasna cringes and whispers, “I will do anything, Uncle, but please do not harm my child.”
Uncle Bandar hisses under his breath, “You will do exactly as I say when I say it and until I can clean up your mess, you shall remain confined to your quarters until your wedding day.”
Wedding day?