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Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1)

Page 19

by Rose B Mashal


  “Come here, Princess,” I heard the prince saying, pulling me away from my haze and making me aware of my mouth hanging widely open.

  I moved to where he was standing and he took me by the hand to a place a few feet away, in the opposite direction to where I had been standing. “No way!” I said excitedly as I went toward the object he was leading me to. “A telescope?”

  “Enjoy yourself,” he smiled.

  And enjoy myself I did. There was some sand stuck to the lens and I buffed the heck out of it until it was clearer. I looked around, here and there, smiling at the really nice view in front of me, perfect buildings and almost empty streets. A minute later, my smile dropped as my eyes settled on something I couldn’t believe I was seeing. A huge pang of familiarity and longing hit me hard on the chest at the sight. I was sure I was imagining it, but more staring told me I really wasn’t. But how could it be?

  “Uh…is that…” was all I could say.

  “Is that what? What are you looking at?” the prince asked.

  “Is that a cross?” I finally said.

  “Where?”

  I moved a little to show him and he placed his head where mine had been, looking through the telescope himself.

  “Yep. That’s a church.”

  “Seriously?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah, there are like twenty or something around here.”

  “Twenty? Really?”

  He nodded, frowning a little.

  “Why?”

  “Why what, Princess?”

  “Why do you have them? Who goes there?”

  I bet it’s empty.

  “People go there!”

  “Why would you build churches for ‘people’? Don’t you have like Muslim churches or something?”

  “Er…that’s a mosque or masjed for you, not ‘Muslim churches.’Christians would prefer to pray in churches instead of masjeds, don’t you think?”

  “Christians? You mean the ones who come to visit or whatever? But why build so many for them?”

  “Oh! I think you’re not aware of the fact that twenty-three percent of my country’s population are Christians, Princess?”

  “What? You mean like…natives?”

  The prince chuckled. “Yes. ‘Natives.’ Christian-Arabs. What? You thought that Arabs could only be Muslims?”

  I didn’t reply, only gaped in disbelief.

  “We have several religions in the kingdom, Princess. The majority are Muslims, yes, but still.”

  “Huh!”

  “Enjoy the sight,” he smiled and walked back a few steps, then sat down on the ground.

  I gazed at the church again from the telescope, trying to take in what he’d said. I’d never really thought about it before and I was kind of shocked to learn that Arabs could be something other than Muslims. Though when Joseph had told me about Janna, I’d hoped that somehow she would be Christian. But then again, I had already admitted to myself that I barely knew anything at all about Arabs or Muslims, for that matter. It was really…I didn’t even know.

  Sometime later, I walked back to the prince and sat beside him on the ground. He was now resting his back against the mountain so he was half-sitting with his hands folded behind his head, his eyes focused up.

  “What are you looking at?” I asked him dumbly.

  “The sky.”

  I sat back a little and watched it with him, the same beauty I’d noticed from the sunroom; if it wasn’t a crazy thing to consider, I would’ve said the full moon looked bigger from here.

  I rubbed my arms with my hands a bit when the weather started to become a bit uncomfortable, and the prince sat up. “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “A little,” I replied honestly, and it seemed to upset him.

  “That’s why I wanted you to wear the abaya: it was the thickest thing I could find. I knew this was going to happen.” He stood up and motioned for me to take his hand.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Back home, you’ll get sick if we stay any longer.”

  “I feel fine. Please, I don’t want to go back yet. Please, let’s stay for just a few more minutes,” I begged.

  “It’s cold and will get colder.”

  “I’m fine, it’s not so bad. We can sit closer to each other or something.”

  The prince sighed in defeat and I held back a squeal. I won.

  He sat closer to me and put his arm around my shoulder, but as the minutes passed, I found myself sitting between his legs and resting my head on his bare chest. He was holding me from behind, warming me with his closeness like nothing else could ever do.

  I was very relaxed and comfortable; his breath near me was comforting and his touch along my arms was soothing. I liked it a lot, and for a minute, I wanted to forget everything and pretend, just pretend, close my eyes and pretend. Pretend that everything was fine and just let myself have a good time–because, indeed, I was really having a very good time.

  “No matter how many times I’ve looked at this view, I can never get enough,” the prince spoke quietly into my ear, his nose nuzzling my hair the slightest, or so–for some mysterious reason–I wanted to think.

  “I like the stars,” I said to myself more than to him. I admitted it.

  Shining little star…

  “I like them, too. The moon and the sky…”

  “I don’t like the sky,” I said. “This sky is so dark, it scares me.”

  “It’s the same sky you see in the daylight, or everywhere around the world.” He told me softly. “And you wouldn’t enjoy the stars if it weren’t for the dark sky, Princess.”

  I turned my head to look at him. Surely he didn’t know about the small talk I’d had with myself in my head in the sunroom a few hours ago. How could he say those things, and make them touch me so deeply? How was he able to do those things to me? Why was he able to make my heart tingle and my stomach flutter this way? What was his deal?

  I found no answers to any of my questions. The prince was a mystery to me. My own emotions were a mystery to me.

  When I looked at the prince, his head was turned my way, looking at me, too. And just like when we were standing in Thunder’s room, we were so close this time, too. So close his breath was fanning over my cheek and his eyes looked even greener than I’d ever seen them, greener even now under the full moon’s light.

  The prince’s eyes moved to gaze at my lips for a moment and then looked up to my eyes again. I started panting. Not only was I shocked that he was begging me with his eyes…but because I found myself wanting it, too.

  His eyes weren’t asking me to kiss him; they were begging me to ask him to kiss me.

  My breath tangled and my heart beat faster and faster–scared, needing, afraid, longing, refusing but wanting.

  I couldn’t. I stood up. Too many emotions jumbling around inside of me. Too. Many. I had no idea what to do. My mind was going everywhere, and my heart was going to one where. But I couldn’t…not right, not right, not right.

  His hand touched mine, making me aware of him standing next to me, and my breath settled the tiniest bit. He held my hand fully in his and pulled me, forcing me with tenderness to look at him. I turned to face him but couldn’t look into his eyes–they did things to me.

  “Don’t,” he whispered, and I had to look in his eyes, a big mistake I was aware of but couldn’t control. “Don’t run away from me, Beautiful Princess.” His hand gripped mine tightly, and his other moved hair away from my face, brushing softly over my cheek and settling on my neck, where his thumb rubbed my jawline with the sweetest of touches.

  His eyes were intense as they looked into mine: searching and waiting, hungry and careful, begging and pleading, but never demanding.

  Our faces were getting closer to each other, closer by the second. The only sounds I could hear were our breaths and my heartbeat. The only thing I could feel was his thumb over my jawline, his grip on my hand and the fire inside of me. The only thing I could see was…green. All green. Ey
es wanting, bouncing between lips and eyes. Begging with a look that was louder than any words in my ears. It was almost as if it was...praying.

  Our lips touched, and my eyes closed. Our lips touched, and my head spun. Our lips touched, and my chest tingled. Our lips touched, and my knees buckled. Our lips touched, and my body melted.

  His lips were intense, warm and loving. His touch was soft, hot and caring. His hold on my hand was tight, firm and kind.

  There were sparkling lights behind my closed eyelids, and a tingling inside of my chest. There was fire everywhere I could feel and everywhere I couldn’t.

  There was life.

  His lips moved in perfect rhythm with mine, and I was lost in another world that shone with softness and comfort. I was lost in a sea of warm hearts and caring touches. Lost in a sky that was dark but glittered with little stars.

  Dark sky…

  I pulled back and turned away, panting and shaking slightly. My gaze wouldn’t meet his, and my mind wouldn’t admit what my heart felt.

  His hand didn’t leave mine and he pulled me to face him again. This time our chests were touching immediately, and our cheeks were pressed together as he breathed into my ear. “Don’t, please. Don’t run away. Don’t.”

  I swallowed thickly. “You, don’t,” I whispered.

  “Don’t what, Beautiful, Beautiful Princess?” His other hand found my neck again, this time holding it tighter than before, his thumb under my chin as he raised my face up with it to look at him, his gaze darkening and his breaths shallow. “Don’t do this?” he asked before his lips met mine again. This time it was firmer, this time it was hotter, this time it was soft sucking and tongues touching. It was gasps and soft moans I’d never known I could make. It was a tight grip leaving my hand and settling on my hip, kneading and setting my body on fire underneath it. This time it was my hands touching a hard chest and tight muscles. It was waves of want and need, waves of more and never-stop.

  But when breaths were greatly needed, we pulled back, panting and dazzled. Lightheaded and closed-throated. Heart working one thought, and mind working a hundred. A voice in my head screaming at me with what I felt I was:

  Cheater.

  Cheater.

  Cheater, cheater, cheater…

  My mind forced the word to ring in my ears over and over again. The voice telling me that I was a cheater grew louder and louder by the moment, until I started choking.

  My hand left the prince’s, and the other left his chest, which I had been touching all the while my lips were pressed to his and my tongue was tasting him. Both of my hands moved up to my throat and I clasped it, trying desperately to catch my breath that I was struggling to take in or even to let out.

  “D-do-don’t-” I gasped out, my eyes welling up with tears that I soon shed for how ashamed I was of myself. “Don’t d-do thi-s again.”

  “Hey, hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?” the prince’s voice that I was hearing as if I were underwater asked, full of worry and concern.

  “D-don’t do it-t again,” I choked out the words, my vision blurry and my legs shaking so badly that I almost lost my balance and fell.

  It was as if I was trying to convince myself with the ‘Don’t do it again,’ that kissing the prince was all his doing and I had nothing to do with it. It was as if I was trying to tell myself that I was forced into it, that I wanted to stop it, that I hadn’t wanted it to happen in the first place.

  But I wasn’t that stupid. I wasn’t so stupid that I wasn’t able to convince myself of the lies I wanted to plant in my own head. I knew better.

  I had kissed him back.

  I had kissed him back, and I’d liked it. The realization wasn’t at all easy on me. It was killing me, ripping at my heart from the inside to admit to myself–even with a very small part of my mind–that I was attracted to the prince, that I liked him, and that I wanted him.

  But that wasn’t all of it. There was more. And the more was uglier. I was feeling something for him, as well. More than just attraction.

  I was feeling something deep inside of me for the prince. It was strong, it was powerful, and it was…scary. Oh, so scary.

  God! I was falling for one of them. Falling hard!

  Cheater, cheater, cheater…

  Oh, God, help me!

  “I won’t, I won’t.” His hand surrounded my body as I sank slowly to the ground, still gasping for air and holding my throat and collarbone tightly, as if it would help me to breathe better that way. “It’s okay, you’re fine, just breathe.”

  “C-can’t brea-the.”

  “Yes, you can, Princess. You are breathing. You’re okay. I’m here,” he told me, his left hand under my head as held me to him while I lay half on the ground. His other hand tried to remove my hands from my throat.

  “C-can’t-t.”

  “Yes, yes, you can. Inhale deeply through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth, as if you’re blowing into a balloon. Breathe. Yes, you’re doing well. It’ll pass.”

  “Ca-n’t find it.” My hands moved frantically over my chest and above the shirt. My world was darkening by the second, and my mouth was getting drier and drier.

  “There, there, it’s in your hand,” he said, his hand moving from my wrist–where he was probably checking my pulse–to my palm, which he placed my cross in. I held it in a tight grip and brought it up to my chest, trying to focus on my breathing like he was telling me to do and like I knew I should be doing.

  “You’re safe, Princess, you’re all right, it’s okay,” he kept reassuring me with his words. His hand moved my hair out of my face before he placed his hand above mine which was over my chest, as if he was trying to tell me he was here by his gentle touch.

  “Our Father–” I whispered breathlessly, “Our Fathern Who art in Heav–” I took a deep breath and tried to say my prayer, finding it really difficult and almost impossible to breathe while doing it, so I prayed silently instead.

  My heart was thumping so hard inside of my chest, that I thought it was trying to make its way out of my body, but my breathing was getting a little bit better, as I lay there trying not to think of all of the things that had stirred up my panic attack.

  I don’t know how long we stayed there that way on top of the mountain, trying to get myself back to normal, encouraged by the prince’s words as he kept telling me that I was fine and that it was okay. When I was finally fine again and my panic attack had passed, we made our way back to the royal stable.

  The prince left me for a minute, after asking if I was okay to stand by myself while he got Thunder situated again in his stall. I watched as he tied him up as he was before we’d taken him for the ride, then patted him a few times before walking away from him.

  The prince was almost out of the stall before I told him to wait a minute. I went up to the beautiful creature and hugged his neck. “Bye, Thunder. Thanks for the good time,” I whispered near his ear, smiling softly.

  When I turned around, I found the prince watching me closely. I didn’t say anything, just looked and walked away, up the path we’d come from, passing by one stall after another of horses that were peeking their heads above the doors. I enjoyed watching them, all the while I was walking with the prince following behind me.

  One of the stalls was slightly opened and I just had to look. When I looked inside I gasped. The sight was too adorable not to stop in my tracks and take a step closer to the stall. Inside, there were three horses; one of them was much bigger than the other two–actually, the other two were so little, even smaller than Salma. The three of them were beautiful shades of white. The mare, that I knew for a fact was the mother, had a white coat that was slightly darker than the two foals, who were nursing from their mother in such a beautiful way that I couldn’t help but stand there and stare.

  A few minutes later, I heard the prince’s voice as he spoke, “This is my brother’s.”

  I only nodded but didn’t say anything. I think it was only then that I realize
d why the prince was so fond of horses and why they were his passion. I also understood why Mona had said that he forgot time whenever he was with Salma because, standing there, I just found myself smiling and almost forgetting everything I was going through, while I watched the mother in amusement as she fed the two little ones and then helped them to stand up. They moved around her and she rubbed her head against their bodies and they did the same. Pure love. Pure love was shining out from the three of them; it was very touching and I couldn’t help myself as I stared and–loved.

  “Can I touch them?” I asked in a quiet voice, not looking back at the prince. For the first time, I found myself wanting to touch a horse while knowing I could–unlike with Salma, that the prince had told me I couldn’t touch, and Thunder, that I was too afraid to touch. I still wanted to ask, since I had no idea whether or not it might offend his brother.

  “Of course,” he said, “Just go slow with the twins.”

  I nodded and moved to stand right beside them, then moved my hand slowly and carefully to touch them, one at a time. They were even softer than Thunder, and I felt like I could never get enough of touching them and enjoying their softness and their company.

  One of them rubbed its forehead to my chest and my heart swelled just looking at the little foal. But then I felt the prince’s hand as it touched mine and I flinched. “Shhh,” he said before pushing on the back of my hand that he was touching, forcing my hand to push the little horse’s neck away from me.

  “Hey!” I protested, frowning. “Why did you do that?” I asked, so scared that the push had hurt the little creature.

  “You have to show them you’re in control, or they’ll demand more playing time, and then they’ll be upset when you don’t have it. Don’t worry, they are stronger than you think. I’ll have to teach you a thing or two about horses,” he told me, moving his hand away from mine.

  I didn’t understand why I should show them I was in control or whatever, but I had to admit that I didn’t know anything about horses. I was surprised that I wanted to learn, just not knowing why I would need to at the same time.

 

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