When Imani had returned to Zamibia, she arrived with one of Wasim’s personal messengers, who hand-delivered the marriage contract to her parents. The negotiation had begun, listing details such as which country she and Wasim would reside in and their rights and responsibilities during the course of the marriage. It also included what Wasim would offer as her bridal gift, ormahr, valued in the millions and delivered over the course of several weeks after thenikahwas signed.
Once the marriage contract was signed, Imani and Wasim were officially married, but Barrakeschi culture included a forty-day period between the signing and the announcement of the marriage to the world in a wedding ceremony. In keeping with tradition, she would remain separate from her husband and would stay in Zamibia during that period instead of moving into The Grand White Palace with him.
Imani sat in the living room of her father’s apartment, pretending not to notice that Kofi was staring her. Her cousin was a suspicious man and saw her as his little sister, and she was certain they’d have a private conversation soon.
Until then, she listened to her father and mother’s excited chatter as they reviewed the document. Benu had been hesitant at first, unaccustomed to the idea of a marriage contract, but Prince Kehinde had expressed no hesitation.
He was excited about her becoming the queen of a nation and that she would be the one to unite the two countries, which could prove profitable for generations to come. Their natural resources would be shared. Their militaries would learn from and support each other. Travel between both countries would become even easier, allowing the smooth flow of ideas and innovations, goods and services, and a mingling of cultures.
At the end of the conversation, Imani left the room and went to her personal suite in her father’s living quarters. She didn’t pay attention to the opulent room that had been hers for years. She sat down in front of the window, propped her feet on a table, and stared out at the grounds. Numb.
She was being treated as nothing more than a commodity in this whole transaction. Her worst nightmare had come true. Under different circumstances she would have been happy about this marriage. But she didn’t only want marriage. She wanted love and respect, too.
One out of three isn’t bad, she thought bitterly.
At the loud sound of rapping knuckles, she swung her head toward the door. “Come in.”
Kofi entered, striding across the carpeted floor, his concerned gaze trapping hers. He looked particularly well-groomed today because earlier he’d received a haircut and his circle beard had been freshly trimmed.
“Hi, Kofi. To what do I owe this visit?” Imani put as much of an upbeat sound in her voice as she could and went the extra mile of smiling.
“What is going on?”
“What do you mean?” She stood and put a confused frown on her face, though she knew exactly what he meant.
“You’re really going to marry Wasim?”
“You’ve known that was a possibility for some time. Since before King Khalid passed.”
His eyes scoured her features. “I want to be happy for you, but this doesn’t feel right to me. Your entire relationship hasn’t felt right from the beginning, but I held my tongue.”
“What do you think? That Wasim seduced me?” Imani asked, purposely making light of the situation with a slight smirk.
Kofi did not see the humor in the situation and his face remained serious. “Granted, I noticed there was an attraction between the two of you, but you’ve dated a number of men over the years, and though I realize they haven’t been love matches, not once did you ever mention Wasim as a potential husband. This feels more like an arranged marriage, and I distinctly remember you telling me you wanted to marry for love.”
Momentarily, she turned her back to him, allowing time for her to think of an answer. When she turned to him, her face was schooled into neutral lines that didn’t gave away an inkling of the emotional turmoil she suffered under.
“As you pointed out, none of my previous relationships were love matches. In this case, I know Wasim. I know Barrakesch. An alliance between our countries makes sense, and I will be a part of it.”
He shook his head. “None of this makes sense. An alliance, perhaps. But not with you.”
“Then who? You don’t have any sisters, and I’m my father’s only daughter.”
He still looked doubtful. She hadn’t convinced him. He took slow steps over to where she stood and looked down into her face. His eyebrows lowered into a deep V over his eyes. “Are you sure? If you don’t want to do this…”
“Are you crazy? How can I not? It will be my greatest accomplishment. Wasim and I will go down in history.”
Kofi rested his hands on her shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. Then he spoke in his quiet, intense way. “This is more than history. This is more than an accomplishment, Imani. You remember how miserable my first wife, Azireh, was when we married? I don’t want the same fate for you.”
Royal liaisons were often built around practicality instead of love, and his first marriage had been such a union, which ended in disaster.
“I won’t kill myself, if that’s what you’re worried about. Your marriage was arranged, and Azireh was in love with someone else. I am not.”
“There is no one else you love and wish to marry?”
That question she could answer honestly. “No, there isn’t.”
He nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer, and dropped his hands from her shoulders. “If you ever change your mind about going down in history, will you let me know?”
