Elizabeth Lennox

Introduction Stories for The Sheik's Angry Bride

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Dinner one night…

“Hello father,” Layla said as she slipped into the elegant chair of the dining room, ignoring her mother’s admonishing glance.  “How was your day?” she asked.  

“Very successful,” he said and clapped his hands together.  

Layla felt her mother’s increased tension, but only had a moment to consider what it meant before her father continued.

“Your marriage has been set.  You are to marry the Sheik of Lurasa.  The date is the only thing still to be worked out.”

Layla had just put her linen napkin over her lap, but with this pronouncement, she froze.  Her mother and father continued to talk, but Layla didn’t hear their words over the ringing in her ears.  All she could hear, over and over again, was that first sentence.  “Your marriage has been set.”  

A servant came in at that moment and placed a plate in front of her father; another servant entered with her mother’s plate and Layla’s.  She took a deep breath as the scents lifted to her face and she had to fight valiantly for control over her stomach.  She would not throw up, she promised herself.  This was a test, she thought silently.  A test that she would not fail.  

Marriage.  A husband.

She searched her memory, but couldn’t come up with a picture of the Sheik of Lurasa.  What did it matter?  Apparently, the contracts had been signed, everything was a done deal.  She was to be married!

She lifted her knife and fork, forcing her fingers to not show a single tremor, not reveal anything about her inner thoughts, fears or anger.  Later, she told herself.  Once she could leave the table and hide in her room, she could rage all she wanted.  But right now, she needed to project a calm demeanor.  

Slowly, the conversation started to reach her brain.  Her father was saying something about buildings, money transferred, dates set…she didn’t understand any of it.  Nor did she even want to venture a guess.  If money had been transferred, it was a fairly safe bet that it was because of some sort of…she cringed.  Had she just been sold into marriage?  Surely not!  

Goodness, political favors were mentioned and her father’s eyes lit up with anticipation.  He hadn’t been this excited when his sons got married!  Apparently, her marriage would be even more advantageous!  Good for him, she thought.  He’d done well for himself.  

“We’ll discuss wardrobe after dinner, Layla,” her mother said.

Layla turned her head slightly, staring at her mother with a blank expression.  A wardrobe?  She had an enormous wardrobe upstairs in her closet.  What more could she need?  

Her mother and father continued to discuss the issues among themselves and Layla only heard the conversation as a low buzz in the background of her mind.  All she understood that she was to be married.  Married!  To a man she didn’t know, a man she hadn’t even spoken with!

She sliced her meat up into careful sections, separated her broccoli, adjusted the rice slightly.  When she looked down at her plate, she realized that she’d created a frowning face with her food.  Quickly, she shifted the bite sized pieces before her mother or father realized what she’d done.  

Married.  Wow, she thought with resignation.  This was what she’d been raised for, what she’d trained to do all her life.  And now it was time.  

Meanwhile, in neighboring Lurasa…

Garon walked out of the meeting and glanced at his watch.  “Fifteen minutes until the next meeting.  We’re ahead of schedule,” he said to his aide walking beside him.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the man said, bowing even as they walked down the hallway.  The aide started spouting information, but Garon wasn’t paying attention.  He’d already read through the data and knew the statistics for his next conversation.  He didn’t need to be reminded of these things, but the man next to him was not his normal aide and didn’t know that Garon had a photographic memory.  

The woman standing at the bar…she was lovely.  It occurred to him that the woman’s arms might be a nice diversion for the evening.  Her eyes glanced his way and he knew that she was his for the asking.  

He was just about to walk over to her, to get a drink and ignore his next meeting when he was reminded of his upcoming nuptials.  

With a sigh, he turned back around.  It wouldn’t do to be photographed talking with another woman only hours after the news of his engagement had been released.  Bad form, he thought.  

“What’s my fiancée’s name again?” he asked the aide who was breathing hard as he tried to keep up with Garon’s longer stride.  

The man sifted through some papers in his arms, finally coming up with the information.  “A Ms. Layla Alfarsi, Your Highness,” he finally said.  

Layla.  Garon tested the name in his mind, tossing it around and finding that he liked the name.  

One last glance at the blond woman, a wink of regret, and then he stepped into the next meeting room.  

Married, he thought.  It was going to take a little getting used to.  But he knew that it had to happen.  And he had to marry quickly.  One of the sheiks was already married, with a son, no less!  And the peace that marriage had brought upon the neighboring country of Larcatia was astounding.  It only proved that the rulers’ marriages really could bring about peace, that the treaty would accomplish its mission.  His would do the same.  He was determined to ensure that it did!

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