His Impossible Heir - Introduction
Al-Bodari Family
Amanda’s story…
“Hey there, girlfriend!” Emma called out on the phone.
Amanda smiled, leaning back in her office chair. “Emma! How’s royal life? Gone to any balls lately?”
Emma groaned and Amanda pictured her best friend snuggling down into the soft cushions of a luxurious sofa. “Not today, my friend. I’m investigating the new housing crisis in Amisaria. Did you know that…” Emma kept talking but Amanda wasn’t really hearing much. Emma always had some sort of investigation going, even now that she’d married a billionaire prince. Amanda just loved hearing her friend’s voice. Just like the old days when they’d lived together.
“So are you coming?”
Amanda blinked, her hand frozen as she reached for her mug of herbal tea. “Coming to what?” Obviously, she’d missed a huge detail.
Emma sighed and Amanda chuckled. Just like old times. “The book conference in Paris,” Emma patiently repeated. “They want you to be the keynote speaker.”
Amanda nearly tumbled off of her chair. “What?”
“Yep!” Emma laughed and Amanda pictured punching her friend’s arm. Unfortunately, she was thousands of miles away. “They called me two days ago and asked if I could influence you to speak at the conference. It’s all about mystery writing and it would give you enormous visibility.”
Amanda’s heart clenched. “Emma, you know that I don’t do things like that. I don’t even attend book conferences.”
“I know. You don’t think that anyone would want to meet you.” She huffed impatiently. “You have no idea how popular you really are, do you?”
She looked around at her tiny house that needed a new roof. And a new back door since the old one was over one hundred years old. The house still had some of the old nob and tube electrical wiring.
“Right. I’m famous and rich,” she said with sarcasm. “But no. I’m not speaking at a conference.”
“Why not? This is all about sharing your knowledge with aspiring writers!”
Amanda laughed. “Emma, I’m an aspiring writer!”
“My friend, you are on your sixth novel! Don’t you dare try and tell me that you’re still aspiring. You’ve made it!”
Amanda grunted. “I writer is only as good as her last novel.”
“And yours made it to the best sellers list. So don’t give me that. Besides, Rayed and I will be in Paris that week and we could…!”
“I’m in,” Amanda interrupted. “If you’ll be there, I’ll take any excuse. Even if it means I have to speak in front of a group of strangers.”
“Yes!” Emma hissed.
Amanda laughed. “Are you doing that bouncing thing with your fist in the air while you wiggle your butt?”
There was a long silence before Emma replied, “You know, the way you describe things just sounds weird and kinky. I don’t understand how you’ve become such a famous author, my friend.”
Amanda threw back her head, laughing at Emma’s teasing answer. “The only reason I’m such a famous author is because you keep promoting my book.”
Daniesh’s Story…
“I’m sorry, but could you repeat that?”
Danish al-Bodari, Crown Prince of Hadair, stared at the doctor, watching as the elderly man adjusted his thick glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose.
“Sterile, Your Highness,” the man stated with finality. “I know this comes as a severe blow. However…,” the doctor continued.
Daniesh didn’t hear any of it. There were words like “tests” and “checking counts” and other words that made him cringe. How could measles make him sterile? Or had the doctor said mumps? Daniesh didn’t remember having either of those diseases. He’d had the chicken pox. Was that the reason? He should get more information, but at the moment, he felt as if his head, correction, his whole world, was spinning out of control.
He wanted to scream at the doctor to stop speaking. He wasn’t hearing anything. His mind kept repeating the word “sterile” over and over again.
“Thank you, doctor,” he said, interrupting the man’s explanation. He didn’t want to hear anything else. He just needed…silence!
Daniesh didn’t know where he was going. He just needed to be alone. That was going to be hard to do since there were five bodyguards following him, plus his assistant and potentially fifty other people needing direction from him.
Still, he kept on walking, moving as fast as he could. It didn’t matter how fast he walked or where he went, the news still followed him. That word, the vile, horrible word…sterile…vibrated in his brain.
