6/24/15: Hello you fabulous readers! I'm sorry for the delay, this time I blame the characters! I realized today that this story is a year and a half in the making! AHHH! I know I said this awhile back, but officially, we only have about 4 more chapters to go (for reals).

No warnings about this chapter. There are a few words in Arabic, but they have been explained before and are easy to infer. I actually really like this chapter, and I hope you do to :D

I wake up the next morning and don't feel very rested. It's unfortunate, given that we have rehearsal for the succession ceremony today, but I couldn't stop thinking about what Mel said. He lost what very well could have been his soulmate, and his life hasn't been the same since. He went through so much heartache, and he carries it with him on the daily. It certainly explains a lot, and I feel like I know him even better now. That is one good thing to come out of his words, because aside from that, they just depress me. I know what he wants me to do, and I know what I probably should do. And yet, I can't do it. I can't do it because it wouldn't change anything. I may be doomed have this a lifelong heartache as well, but I try to hope that time will make it better.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

"Come in."

Alvah walks in. I smile, a genuine smile. It's good to see him, and we didn't talk at the tea. He smiles as well, but it's solemn, almost similar to how he looked when the damage was learned of this yesterday. I stand up. "Hi Alvah."

"Good morning, ya amar. It's a big day for you."

I close the distance between us. "It's a big day for all of us." I wonder if the crown has been found. "The crown?"

He shakes his head, but he doesn't look concerned. "The search continues, security has tightened even further, but no luck. Just a head's up, they may search your room later…not because of the original accusations against you, but because everyone is under suspicion now."

I nod. That only makes sense, and they have to be thorough. "Of course."

He suddenly lets out a chuckle. "It's funny to think that you came to us over a crime you didn't commit." His face is still solemn, but his eyes dance with the innate playfulness that has always made him shine. "It's not nice to say, but I'm grateful to the clumsy bugger that robbed you. Had it been any other two people on earth, who knows how this would have turned out?"

It's weird to hear that anyone would be grateful for a crime, and I would have disagreed in the beginning, but things are way different now. "Indeed. Well, maybe it could have gone better if someone else found it." I can't get over all the bad things that happened yesterday, and I'm sure it's going to play into this ceremony.

Alvah raises an eyebrow. "It also could have gone worse." He crosses his arms. "You're not staying anymore, are you?"

My eyes widen. I forgot he thought that. "Alvah, I never was. Why would you think that?"

The playfulness in his eyes disappears again. He's looking deep into my eyes. He doesn't blink and looks so serious that my cracked heart feels like it's breaking further. "It felt like it was suppose to be that way."

Crack crack crack. "Alvah…" I don't know how to continue. It's so sweet, and it makes the fact that I'm leaving tomorrow even more difficult than it already was. Stay. The idea plays out like the ending to a beautiful fairytale. But, well…we all know this is real life. I hope my eyes aren't shiny. I say the first thing that comes to mind. "My job, my family, my friends-"

He nods. "No, I know. Still, it feels like you belong here."

I'm suddenly very frustrated. I throw my hands in the air like Mel did. "I don't, okay? I never did."

His eyes go wide. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just hoped-" He stops and shakes his head. "Forget it. I don't want to make you madder."

I put my hands on my hips, ready to just scream, but I don't. Nobody deserves to feel what I'm feeling, even if I can't stand the feelings anymore. It's not right to unload on him, especially not him. My hands fall away. "I'm not mad. I'm…well, I'm sad." My head dips. This day just started, and it's only going to get harder. Much to my dismay, tears are already forming.

"Oh, hey." Alvah says, and I'm immediately enveloped in his arms. "Hey. I'm sorry."

I bury my face in his shoulder like I did yesterday. The same hurts return, only there's more on the list now than there was yesterday. I don't want to cry, I really don't, but it comes anyway. This man is going to get so tired of my tears soaking his shirt.

I feel him pat my back. "You don't have to hold back this time; cry all you want."

I do. I cry for this kingdom. I cry for this country. I cry for those that lost their lives. I cry for the unrest. For Mel's pain. For having to leave. For Abla's plight. For losing what I never had. I sob so hard I can't see, or breathe, and I start gasping for air. As I do, my nose runs. I'm a hot mess, and I'm ruining Alvah's shirt. I choke back a few sobs, trying to regain my breath, and I peek up at Alvah. He's looking right at me, and he looks sad. "Are you alright?"

I nod weakly, coughing as the final emotional sobs leave me. One arm leaves my back and he wipes away my tears gently. "It's a lot."

I breath deeply and swallow back the last of my tears. "Yes, yes it is." I look at the darkened, damp cloth against his shoulder. "I'm sorry about that."

To my surprise, he lets out a half hearted chuckle. "It's nothing to worry about. Whatever you need, I'm happy to provide. Is there anything else I can do for you, ya amar?"

I look back up at him, and then I rest my head against his damp shoulder. I'm not going to fight anymore; I'm just going to relax and let it be. Maybe I might be able to enjoy my final moments here if I do. "Sing to me."

He seems to hold me more tightly. "Of course." His chest gives out a slight vibration, and that beautiful, silky singing voice follows. He's singing in Arabic, and I haven't the faintest idea what he's saying, but it's soothing me into the happy state I once felt so often in this palace.

It's later now, and I feel much better. Alvah sang to me for awhile, and then left to prepare for the ceremony rehearsal. I should be doing the same, but it's not until this afternoon, and I still don't feel like being surrounded by people. I also hate to say it, but I still don't know who to pick. I thought it would get easier with time, but instead, it got harder. With the crown still gone, it seems futile, because the coronation can't happen even if the succession can. It seems odd, but I do as I'm told.

Do as I'm told, I think, blowing on my hair. I've become so obedient. I guess those charm lessons, no matter how far fetched they may have been, must have done some good. I chuckle to myself at the memories of them. I had claimed I'd do my best, for duty and just to prove I could, but I actually got more out of them than I ever imagined. I wish I had thought about that more than I had about Lambert.

Ah, Lambert. My super serious, little blonde haired angel. I blow on my hair again. Why the hell did I just think that? My? Mine? As if he ever belonged to me. And angel? Oh, I know he's no angel…

Memories sting my mind. They continue to sting as they drip down toward my cracked heart, but unlike yesterday, I don't want it to stop. I don't know if it was my sob fest or what, but it's easier to think about him now (not easy, but easier). I had wished we were strangers, hoping it would be a better situation if we had never met, and it seems silly to have wanted that. We had a lot of good times together, and…well…

I abruptly stop. I feel incredibly weak, like I might drop at any second. I take a deep breath and run to sit at my vanity. I take a few more deep breaths, and as I do, I look in the mirror. My reflection looks at me critically. Easier, but not easy, indeed. My positive spin is fading. This went from absolutely devastating to a miserable misfortune. It's better, but only a little, and a little isn't enough. I'm not getting over this anytime soon.

I frown, and my reflection shows a sadness deeper than I thought I felt. I shake my head. No. No man is worth this. Snap out of it. I bear my teeth and feel like snarling. Snap out of it!

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

The face in the mirror blanks out. Saved by the knock. "Come in."

I don't even look up as the door opens; it's most likely Ivan. I keep staring at my reflection as subtle footsteps pad across my carpet. Maybe I still need to talk. Maybe I should talk to Ivan? But, what is there left to say? Still nothing. I'm just impatient. I sigh and scoot my chair back. "Ivan-"

I stop and gasp. As I scooted back, I finally looked at the figure heading towards me. It's not Ivan, not even close. "I…I…um…sorry, I thought you were someone else." I silently cringe at my response as I try to take in the figure in front of me. It's Lambert's mom, and for the life of me, I can't figure out why she's here. Her goddess-like presence is just as enchanting as it was yesterday, and I can't figure out how to save myself from the inevitable embarrassment about to rain upon me.

To my surprise, she just smiles warmly. "There's no reason to apologize, and certainly not for comparing me to Ivan. He's lovely, isn't he?"

I can't seem to return the smile, and I can't seem to comprehend what she just said. "Oh, I, uh, um…yes."

I stare at her outfit. Another swanky pant suit, this one slate grey. It makes her blue eyes pop, and they shine finer than the pearls she has on again. I begin to miss the necklace Jun gave me, though I highly doubt I could ever wear pearls as well as this goddess does. I find myself wondering about her age again. She has to be at least 50, but like Tamir, she has aged well and time seems to treat her like a fine wine instead of a human being.

A graceful laugh comes from her glossed lips. "I suppose I should explain my presence, or at least formally introduce myself. With everything that happened yesterday, I realized I didn't even tell you my name."

My eyes go wide, and I scramble out of my seat. "Oh yes!" I exclaim, instantly dipping into a curtsey. "I'm so sorry! I should have asked yesterday!" I keep my head dipped as I rise back up. I'm so intimidated it's ridiculous.

I hear more graceful laughter. "Young lady, do I make you nervous?"

She noticed. I keep my head down and give a quick nod. She laughs again. "Raise your head up, please."

Slowly, I do. She's still smiling, and she's looking into my eyes. Heaven forbid she can see my soul right now, because she'd probably U-Turn right out of here. She holds out her hand. "Much better. Now then, I'm Jolene."

Jolene. It suits her. I take her hand, trying to keep my own from shaking. "It continues to be a pleasure." I mutter, shaking her hand. It feels odd to shake hands with this woman, like I should be on my hands and knees kissing her shoes, but if this meeting is going to succeed at all, I just have to take her lead. Otherwise, I'll be falling over myself even more and she'll definitely U-Turn out.

Our hands release, and she suddenly looks serious. I see so much of Lambert in her that I can't help but gasp. I wonder if that is why I'm so enchanted by her, and why I can't get it together. Even if not, the gasp was pretty rude, but she doesn't skip a beat. "I know this seems out of nowhere, and I apologize if I have disrupted your schedule, but I couldn't continue on today without talking to you."

I nod, like I know what she's talking about. Her serious look stays, and she crosses her arms. "I cannot thank you enough for saving my boy. That was a scary situation that nobody knew how to react to, but you did, and you have my eternal gratitude."

Dumbfounded, I shake my head. "It was pure instinct." And for the most part, it was.

"It was a good instinct, apparently one even stronger than a mother's." She keeps her arms crossed, and slowly smiles. "That's mostly why I'm here."

Huh? I know I look confused. "You're here because of instinct?"

"Mostly," she says, crossing her arms. "Do you have a dress yet for the succession ceremony?"

Surprise grips my stomach. I wasn't expecting her to ask that (not like I really knew what to expect, but certainly not that), and I realize that I have no idea what I'm wearing tomorrow. Oh crap…that's a problem! This is a big deal, why am I only thinking about this now? "Um…"

"I see," she says. I see a quick twinkle flit through her eyes; it's the same twinkle Lambert gets when he has a wicked intent. I'm now even more nervous. She smiles. "Well, why don't I take you to the palace seamstress? She's more talented than Dior and Versace combined, and her team will create you something beautiful."

What? "What?"

"Everyone of her dresses is one of a kind. She even created the attire the princes will be wearing for the ceremony."

An exclusive designer dress? Made just for me? Oh my… "Um, that's very kind, but the rehearsal is this afternoon-"

"Right, and you still have a few hours. That is more than enough time to be fitted, measured, and get it all worked out."

What? Is this really happening? If it is, why didn't Ivan mention it? "I'm sure Ivan already-"

"Ivan won't mind. Come with me."

She motions to the door and starts walking. My mind is still spinning, but I follow. Really, what else can I do? And I can't say I'm not intrigued…

"Hmmm, I don't know…" Jolene says, rubbing a piece of forest green silk between her fingers. "Green suits you, but I feel like we are missing something."

My mind continues to spin. First, I can't get over the fact that I'm talking to Lambert's mom. Second, I can't get over the fact that she brought me here to this wonderland of fabric. Finally, I can't believe that I'm about to have a one of a kind dress made just for me. We flew down the hall (or rather, Jolene kind of swiftly floated, and I clomped around trying to catch up with her) and before I could ask where were going exactly, I realized we were down the King's hall and in front of a room I didn't see during my oiled up escape. She opened the doors, and I instantly felt like Cinderella.

We are surrounded by pale pink walls trimmed with white. Paintings of ladies in elegant dresses line the walls, along with shelves and shelves of chic fabrics. White tables filled with accessories, threads and sewing machines, a mannequin by every table, it reminds me a little of Project Runway (only much more elegant). My favorite part are the circular, gold platforms by each wall, and each one is surrounded by mirrors. The seamstresses are buzzy around like little bees, and I half expect blue birds and mice to pop up and start helping them.

I think we are probably close to the harem rooms, but I haven't been able to ask. I still can't believe this woman is a member of the harem. I look at the fabric swatches she is holding. There's also plum, sky blue, black, silver, and some shade of orange I've never seen before. "Are you sure this is okay?" It seems wrong, and despite my best efforts, I'm still nervous. I also don't get why Ivan never mentioned anything like this before.

"I wouldn't have invited you here otherwise." she says, her eyes still on the forest green silk. "I don't know…" She looks away. "Adeela, could you come here, please?"

A sleek, tall woman comes out of nowhere. She's wearing a suit, of sorts, that is an insane mint green. She has on too much matching eyeshadow, and gold Wayfarer style glasses. Describing it sounds terrible, but this woman is rockin' it. Oh, this has to be the designer!

"Naam?" she asks, full of attention. Jolene says a few things in Arabic and holds out the swatches. Adeela looks at them, peers at me over her Wayfarers, and suddenly grabs my hand.

"Whoa!" I gasp, really surprised as she drags me towards one of the gold platforms. Before I can say more, Adeela pushes me on top of the platform, calls to a seamstress, then starts scribbling on her sketchbook. I stare at the wide eyed girl in the many mirrors in front of me, and then I look at Jolene. "Jolene?"

Jolene is looking me up and down; she seems to be deep in thought. "Layers…form fitting…mermaid cut? With pearls? Diamonds? Some rose gold?" she mutters, walking slowly around the platform as a seamstress approaches with a measuring tape.

"Jolene!" I say a little louder, slightly overwhelmed as the seamstress motions for me to put my arms out to the side. Jolene looks at me. "Yes, dear?"

Dear?! "Jolene, why are you doing this?"

"You need a dress." she says simply, watching the seamstress measure my arm length.

"Yes, but, I have so many clothes, and Ivan would have taken care of this, so why?"

She let out an airy chuckle. "Ivan pick your dress? For such a momentous occasion?"

I remember the red nightmare he made me wear my first night here. It appears some kind of reputation precedes him. "Well, okay I see your point, but are you specifically doing this for me?"

Jolene gets pensive again while the seamstress takes more measurements. "Is it so strange that I'd want to do something nice for you? Besides, I'd like to get to know you."

Really? "Why me?"

She chuckles again. "That's a funny question now, isn't it?"

I think for a moment, and I guess it is. "Okay, maybe. So…um…" I really don't know what to say. She hasn't asked me anything, and I don't really know what to offer up. I still don't know what to make of this situation. The seamstress scurries off towards the fabrics. Jolene watches her do so and then looks back at me, smiling. "Why wouldn't I want to get to the girl that gave my boy life?"

I feel a blush coming on, so I look away. That has me looking in the mirror, my blush now amplified by seven. My eyes meet hers in the mirror, and she smiles more. This causes me to blush more. Why can't I get myself together? I keep looking at her in the mirror. "Because maybe I'm reckless? Bad luck? A terrible person?" I've felt like all these things time and again here, so maybe that actually is me. Maybe I'm not the confident lady I set out to be, maybe-

"I doubt you are any of the things you just mentioned, call that instinct as well." Jolene says, watching two seamstresses speak with Adeela over a few rolls of fabric. "I think you're too hard on yourself."

I'm still looking in the mirror. I can see the fabric scene unfold as well. "You don't know the half of it."

She looks back at me, until she realizes I'm still looking in the mirror, and then she meets my eyes in the mirror. "I have an idea, but you are share…if you like."

You meet a guy's mom for the first time, and you imagine it going any number of ways, but you never imagine this. I look at Jolene. I feel like I can trust her; not just because she's Lambert's mom, but because I can just sense it. "Alright, but this is going to be very frank." So I tell her. I recap everything, leaving out a few juicy details of course, and though it all sounds crazy, I know it to be true. What a month!

When I finish, she looks back at Adeela. Adeela is showing the seamstresses a sketch, and one is draping a mannequin with fabric, like they are trying colors out. Jolene looks like she's still processing everything, but I don't see any hints of judgement on her face. I'm surprised, because I am judging myself. Then again, I'm not as much of a lady as she is. She looks back at me. "You're right; that is a lot, and that is not easy."

Again, I'm surprised. Overall, this has been a charmed experience, and so many people would see it that way. The fact that she understands…wow. "Thank you."

"Of course." Her eyes meet mine. Just like Lambert, she is not an easy read, and I can't begin guess what she is about to say. "Do you want my opinion, or do you still want me to stop?"

What have I got to lose? "Tell me what you think, please."

She doesn't look away. "Everything we are given, Allah gives us for a reason. It's not always obvious, but it will be shown to us when we need it most. When people come into our lives, that's when it's hardest to see. Are they here for a moment, a season, or a lifetime? We may hope for it to be certain things, like we know what's best for us, but it's not up to us."

She looks up towards the ceiling for a moment, and then back at me. "I could be wrong, but I get the feeling you originally thought this was just a mistake. You got mixed up in something bad, and ultimately ended up here. You probably started thinking of yourself as your duty, like my son does, and that when it ended you'd leave and everything would go back to normal."

"What we fail to think about is that nothing is ever the same once someone new comes into your life. No matter their time with you or impact on you, your life has changed. I know you've realized that. You've probably also realized that your being here hasn't just changed you, it has changed all of those around you as well. It certainly has changed my son."

I close my eyes. She noticed, and she felt the need to tell me. This means she must have some strong feelings about this. I don't know what to do with this information. It's sweet, and she's right, but I don't know what to do with it. There is nothing to be done, there is nothing that can be done. The hopes I had this morning are dashed.

"No one here knows, including me, but I can't look past this feeling I have that you and my boy need each other. Right now, and beyond."

I cringe, and I can't bring myself to open my eyes. Why? Why?! "Jolene…" I trail off, not really knowing what to say. Why would she tell me that?

"You know how I said I might have an idea of what you are going through?"

I nod, eyes still closed. I feel her stand closer to me, and I hear the seamstresses scuttle around. "Let me tell you why. It involves what I imagine you've been wondering about: the harem."

My eyes open, and I feel words come forth before I can stop them. "Why would you ever do something like that? You're the last kind of person I'd expect in a harem; how can you bear it?"

To my surprise, she doesn't even bat an eye. She's still perfectly calm and composed. "I knew that was coming." She sighs. "I'd be lying if I said this is how I pictured my marriage when I was a child, but Tamir is how I pictured my husband." She gives me a quick once over, and to my bigger surprise, she smiles. "He asked you to become a member, didn't he?"

I blush. I can't help it. This just keeps getting weirder. She laughs. "I do not blame him."

"Jolene…" I whisper out, nervous all over again. "Jolene, okay, yes, he asked me. But I could never…well…" I don't know what to say. She obviously doesn't mind being part of a harem, but even if I loved Tamir the way she clearly does, I couldn't do it. How can I say that without offending her?

"Maybe for my husband you couldn't," she says, still smiling. "But you'd be amazed what one is capable of when they meet their soul mate. I never imagined being in a harem myself, and yet, here I am. It might be hard for you to understand, but I am happy. It means I'm with him, and I have a great life."

I have a hard time believing that. She must sense my doubt, because she continues. "I am American by birth, just like you are. I came here while I was in college to do a medical mission. He came into the hospital I was at one day, and I was swept off my feet. It was so magical, as I'm sure you can understand. We started to date, and talk all the time. I even started staying here at the palace. One night, he told me he was polyamorous, and he had a harem that he intended to get as large as he saw fit. Well, even though he was being honest, I could not stand that thought! I told him to leave me alone, and I threw myself back into work. I had not come here for love, I had come to help."

A seamstress comes over. She's holding what looks like yards of midnight blue silk. "But he wouldn't leave me alone. He kept contacting me, saying he couldn't give up on such an amazing lady, but I ignored him…as best I could anyway. In truth, he was always on my mind. I just couldn't reconcile with the harem; it made me so miserable. After awhile, it seemed he took the hint, because one day he told me he didn't want to lose me, but he wasn't going to beg or force me. He said he couldn't make me love him, though he'd always wish I did."

Wow, Tamir really fought for her. He treated me like a treasured toy, and I bet there are women in the harem he treats like that, but Jolene? It sounds like he truly loves her. "So you changed your mind?"

She shakes her head. "No. I'm still not a fan of the harem, and I don't like that it grows. However, I was way more miserable without him than I was with the idea of a harem. That thought, along with the fact that he pursued me so heavily, made me realize I was willing to give it a shot. When the love is there, you learn to bend."

The fabric is now being draped around my body. My eyes goes wide. Jolene beams a little. "Do you see what I mean?"

I nod. The fabric is being pinned. I'm so deep into Jolene's words that I can't decide how I feel about the color. "Yes, but what am I supposed to do with that?"

She watches the fabric. "The only thing to do, my dear."

Is she saying what I think she's saying?! She can't be! "Jolene, I think I know what you're implying. I can't believe it, but I think I do."

She smiles. "And what do you think?"

I look in the mirror. I'm sinking beneath layers of misshapen fabric. "I think…I think you're gaining a daughter-in-law soon."

That's the truth. I can't look past that, I just can't. She nods. "I am, and Dania will make a good, dutiful wife."

I sigh. Of course. Let's just twist the knife a little deeper. "Exactly. So why bring this up at all?"

She looks forward again. "My boy is so serious. He always has been. He's always been about king and country. He works so hard, and he's good at what he does. I'm so proud of him; I always have been." She looks back at me. "But after the war, he changed."

She pauses. I wait, but she doesn't continue. I nod. "He told me about that. I-"

I stop. She looks very surprised. "He told you?"

"He did. It's a long story as to why…um, are you alright?"

Her shocked hasn't dissipated. If anything, it has grown. "He never talks about that with anyone. I'm not entirely sure his brothers even know!"

Now I'm surprised. It's as if I took her shock, because now she's smiling. "Well, this just confirms it."

"Confirms what?" I ask, nervous again.

"I'm willing to bet you already know." She keeps smiling. "Before I knew what you just said, I was thinking about how my son was around you. He was lighter, as if some burden had lifted off his shoulders and floated away. I haven't seen him like that in years. You see, he works so much, that he puts everything else to the side. I don't see my boy beyond his role often, but I like seeing it. He likes it too, I know he does, but he thinks he doesn't deserve it." Her smile broadens. "Don't you see? With you, he gets that. He gets to be Lambert. He's not his titles, his duties, or reacting to his memories. He's just Lambert! He-"

"Jolene, stop." I want to walk away, but I'm covered in cloth, and a second seamstress has joined the pinning. I close my eyes again and cover my ears. I can't do this. I can't hear this. My heart is about to beat out of its chest. "Just stop." I mumble, placing a hand over my heart. "Don't tell me any more."

I feel a tug on my side. I open my eyes, and I notice the seamstresses finished. Silly as it sounds, I had forgotten what they were doing, but it doesn't matter. This dress is the last thing on my mind (and it doesn't even look like a dress, and I still have my clothes on, so how will it fit?). However, they weren't the ones that tugged me. It was Jolene, and she's holding her hand out towards me. I take it, thinking she's about to help me off the platform, but instead, her hand squeezes mine.

"I just wanted you to know. That's all. I thought if you knew, it might make more sense why I think you two need each other."

I sigh and squeeze her hand back. For as weird as this is, holding her hand is oddly comforting. "I understand what you are saying, but why? Why tell me any of that? Even if it were true, and even if you're right about being shown what we need when we need it most, it could never be at a romantic capacity, and to bear it otherwise? I'm sorry, but I'm not strong enough for that. I'm barely strong enough to let go, and you think I could handle being around him after he's married? No."

Her eyes widen, and her grip loosens. "Right." Our hands fall away from each other. "Thank you for letting me get to know you better, my dear."

Dear… "And thank you too, Jolene." I still have one question. "May I ask you something?"

She nods demurely. "You've been frank and honest, I shall extend you the same courtesy."

"I think you already have," I say, thinking about her love story. "Lambert…there are so many harem members, but only six princes. How is it you got to have Lambert?"

She smiles again. "There are a lot of members, but not all of them are wives. Only six of us have, or had, that privilege." She shows me the gold band on her left hand. "Marriage never happens in most harems, nor do children, but Tamir makes his own rules…I suppose it's a way to stay chaste despite being deep in a vice."

"Anyway, only wives can have children. That is one reason I'm thankful for the harem: Tamir wanted more children, and I only wanted one. We both got what we wanted, and Lambert has five wonderful brothers." She folds her arms. "See what I mean? You bend."

This is pretty interesting. She has quite the story herself. Despite not liking the harem, she seems genuinely happy, and her life seems good. At least she got a happy ending.

The dress is suddenly being shuffled over my head, and it gets whisked away to another part of the room. Jolene watches it, smiling still. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, what with the rough beginnings, but that is going to be perfect."

I stare in the same direction. This is really happening. I am really picking the king tomorrow. "Okay." is all I can say.

She looks at me. "Are you ready?"

I shake my head. "No." I'm not. Not in the slightest. Who am I supposed to pick, and how can I go through this with such a profound ache in my heart?

"Hmmm," Jolene mutters, watching Adeela put the dress on a mannequin. "I wonder why that could be."