A great wooden door was at the end of a huge lobby that I was being dragged to, and there were even more guards on both sides than any other spot I’d seen in the palace. It lead me to think that, true to his word, he was taking me to the king.
He didn’t wait for permission to open that great door. He just shoved one of the guards away with his free hand then kicked the door wide open.
Inside, it was a great room, an atrium maybe or something bigger. The way it was decorated and the open and huge spaces told me that I was indeed in the king’s living quarters, whether it was his wing or whatever they called where he lived inside the palace. Another long lobby led to another door, that the guy kicked open yet again, and I found myself standing inside a bedroom.
There were lots of women, or maybe just girls, who ran away from their spots the second they saw us entering. Then they took the scarves that were on their shoulders and put them over their heads and faces like a huge veil. You couldn’t see any part of them anymore other than their hands, and their dresses, similar to the ones I’d worn around the wing the past few days. They moved to stand on the side once they were covered.
The huge bed that dominated a big part of the room had a half-seated man on it, and beside him was one of the only two women who didn’t move an inch when we entered the room. It was a girl no older than twenty, or maybe she was my age, I couldn’t tell. She had pitch black long hair that sat behind her on the bed and covered all of her back like a thick curtain. Her eyes were a light green that looked oddly familiar, and her beauty was mesmerizing to the point I wondered if she could be an angel and not a human, especially with how bright her skin seemed to be, almost glowing.
Standing beside the bed was a woman I knew so well and yet knew nothing about: the queen. The look in her eyes was so intense, I felt as if it was going to knock me onto my back. I couldn’t read her all that well, but it was easy to see she was shocked at the sight in front of her.
Arabic, Arabic, and more Arabic. The need to scream was too strong. I didn’t know what they were saying. Was it good? Of course not. Was it bad? Seemed more like it. Were they discussing how to kill me? Or were they talking about ways to torture me first? I couldn’t stop wondering. Janna had told me that she didn’t even want to think about what would happen if the plan didn’t work, and I cursed myself for not asking her what would happen. For then, I would’ve at least known my destiny or what was to happen to me. But no, I didn’t know anything. I just stood there, waiting, listening, shaking.
The man on the bed, whom I knew to be the king, gripped his chest hard at the words from the guy gripping my arm, and it seemed like he was struggling with his breaths. The queen ran beside him and the girl started patting his back tenderly. When she looked at the guy beside me, I swear I saw the grin filling his eyes rather than his lips, as if he was pleased with the fact that his words had affected the king that way.
As they were busy with the king, the guy was busy giving me a look that clearly said “Gotcha!” Simply something disgusting and evil, just like him; I had no idea if that creature could be considered a human being at all. The look the queen gave me, though, was even sharper, and this time it spoke only of one thing: “You’ll pay!”
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou hast anointed my head with oil; My cup runneth over.
Our gaze was broken the second I heard a voice coming from behind me, “Get your hands off her. Now!” The voice didn’t belong to anyone I knew, and I didn’t know if I should look behind me or not, I was too scared to even do that. For some reason, I noticed the girl getting out of bed and moving to the side with the rest of women after she put her scarf, that was around her shoulders, over her head to cover her face like the others.
“Jasem! Get your hands off her!” His voice was so stern, so strong and powerful that I couldn’t imagine anyone saying no to that voice, out of fear rather than anything else.
He did let go of my arm, and I winced as the blood started to flow back to where he’d been blocking it with his tight grip. The guy–Jasem, as he was called–spoke in Arabic for a second but he was silenced by the other man right away. He was standing between Jasem and me and kind of shielding me protectively with his body, though not even touching me. It was only then that I got to see his face, a younger version of the king with a short black beard and dark brown eyes, his hair hidden by the white thing men wore around here, his features telling me who he was right away without anyone addressing him by name.
“We only speak in English in the presence of Princess Marie–the future queen. Those are Prince Mazen–the future king’s orders.”
Mazen!
Surely goodness and loving kindness shall follow me all the days of my life; And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
The hurt in my chest, the pain inside of me, and the heartache started burning again at the mention of his name. Though I doubted that any of those feelings had stopped for one second since the minute I’d left the wing–or even before that. I was trying to ignore it for just a few minutes until I could get on that plane, but sadly, I didn’t even get near the airport–not near enough, anyway.
“And there won’t be anything discussed without his presence,” the man, whom I knew to be Prince Fahd, continued.
“Fine,” the queen said, even though there was venom lacing her voice, as if it was not very agreeable to her to do so. “And where is he?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“He’s busy right now, but he will be with us shortly when he takes care of the matter at hand.” he replied sternly, without missing a beat. Though there were no orders in his words, they still sounded commanding, just like his brother when speaking to someone who…wasn’t me.
The ache. That ache in my heart…it burned even more. He was always so nice and very kind to me. No matter what happened, he was always so caring and very understanding. He was always so patient with me, and took everything I gave him with arms wide open. But now…now I doubted he would still be the Prince Charming he’d been since the day I met him. After all, I just broke a huge rule and–I lied to him. Big time. He wouldn’t be very tender anymore, I just knew it.
God! What did I do?
A tear fell down my face when I fully realized what my life would be like now. I was okay. Not very okay, but still. At least I could’ve lived the time I was supposed to stay here peacefully. Now? I’d blown it all by myself. They might kill me.
“He will be busy doing something else. I’ll make sure that he will be kept busy long enough to get you home.”
Janna’s words rang in my ears, the same words that I’d wondered about when she first spoke them just a little more than an hour ago but didn’t question what they meant. And now Prince Fahd was saying that he was busy taking care of something? What could it be?
Oh, my God! What if he was punishing Janna for helping me escape? Oh, God! It couldn’t be. It’d kill me if I was the reason for her punishment. And I didn’t even know what kind of punishment that would be.
But would he really punish his sister? He loved her so much. I really didn’t know if he would; I only knew that their rules were so important to them that they do kill for them.
Kill! No! Please, not that. Anything but that! Lord! Have mercy on us. Please!
“Now if you’ll excuse us,” Prince Fahd said, “I’ll be taking Princess Marie to a more decent room, if you’d allow me, Your Majesty.”
The queen still didn’t look very pleased, but the king nodded, waving us away.
To be honest, I didn’t know how I felt about leaving with Prince Fahd. I didn’t know him, and I started thinking that maybe he would take me somewhere I didn’t like. But then I thought that anywhere far from the queen or that monster called Jasem wouldn’t be as bad, not at all. So, I just followed him when he motioned with his hand, “This way, Princess.” Prince Fahd took me back through the door, where I’d first entered the room, and then to yet another long anteroom, then ope
ned a door that lead into a great living room.
“Prince Mazen will come to escort you back to where things will be discussed, Princess. You can wait in here, no one is going to bother you, you have my word,” he assured me with a kind voice, yet avoiding eye contact with me–I had no idea why.
I only nodded, not even knowing if he could see it or not, but when he turned to move, I knew he had. I wanted to thank him, but somehow ‘Thank you for saving me from that monster, and also for Hope and Faith’–my wedding gift–didn’t sound like something I should say right now, so I didn’t.
When he was about to close the door behind him after stepping out of the room, I found my voice, “Wait, please.” It was low, shaking and choking, but audible enough for him to hear it, since he stopped. “I, uh…I don’t want to stay alone,” I told him, because though I wasn’t in a prison cell, I still felt like it. I wanted some company, even if it was him–I didn’t mind. At least, he could keep the monster away.
Prince Fahd paused for a moment before he asked, “What’s your servant’s name?” his hand still on the doorknob.
“Mona,” I replied, doubting she’d want anything to do with me anymore after all that had happened. It was the first time his eyes met mine, and they were full of surprise and kind of shocked. “Mona is your servant?” he asked again, then averted his eyes away before I could reply.
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid she’s busy, as well. I’ll request that one of the princesses accompany you until Prince Mazen gets here,” he said, nodding his head once, then left the room, closing the door.
She is busy, as well, he’d said. My throat closed just thinking of the possibility that she was being punished, too, for what I’d done. She didn’t want to leave me, and I told her to–ordered her even, and now…Dear God!
I stood unmoving for a while, watching the closed door with tears rolling down my cheeks, hugging my arms to myself tightly, in fear maybe, or was it in defense–I couldn’t tell. I waited, pacing a certain area of the room back and forth. My tears died, but fear and anxiety stayed pretty much alive. The wait became long enough that my legs started to ache from standing for so long. I had to sit down, and wait some more. After what felt like ages, I heard the doorknob turning and I got up, moving my hair out of my face, for it had gotten all messy when I took off the scarf earlier. The moments it took the person to come inside felt more like years. I didn’t know who it would be, and I was so scared it would be Jasem. And I didn’t even know how I felt about the thought that it could be the prince.
It wasn’t either of them. It was the one I’d thought looked like an angel on Earth. I could tell from her dress, though only the edges showed from underneath a black robe that wrapped her whole body.
When she closed the door, she let her cover loose and pulled it away in her hands, then she threw it onto one of the armchairs near the door, all the while looking at me with a smile on her face. A wary smile.
She moved her dark bangs out of her eyes with her fingertips. She had very long hair, a lot like Janna’s only much longer, reaching her backside or even farther. Her green eyes stared at mine for so long that it started to become uncomfortable. I waited for her to speak, but she didn’t. She just moved her eyes to look me up and down, coming closer and then circling me. It didn’t feel nice.
Finally, I heard her as she snorted, and I frowned at the sound. Who was this girl, and why was she looking at me that way?
“Your marriage to Prince Mazen was nothing but a compromise for both of the countries’ sakes, no more,” she said. Her accent was French, and her tone voiced her disgust at what she was saying as she kept circling me. “So don’t you even dream that he could fall for someone like you.” Her hand slung a lock of my hair that was on the side of my face back and my eyes widened. What was her problem? “It’s just that my fiancé would do anything for our kingdom.”
I inhaled sharply and held my breath at the sound of her words, almost choking up with it.
Fiancé! His cousin!
Explains the familiar shade of green in her eyes, I thought. And she didn’t even say ex-fiancé. What did that even mean? And why was it bothering me so much?
She stopped when she was to my right, brought her head closer to mine and then whispered, “And you should be aware that when he needs an heir, it’s my stomach that will bear his child, not yours. His seed will only get someone royal-born like me pregnant, not some commoner like you who only got the title four days ago.”
I swallowed thickly, my chest swelling and my heart hurting even greater than at any time before. The tears were stinging in my eyes and threatening to fall, but I wasn’t going to let them; I wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction. I tried my very best to appear whole and not like the pang of jealousy that was burning my insides was affecting me whatsoever–no idea if I was successful, though. It was like the situation I was in, and the fact that I most likely would be facing a very horrible time to come, was just lost on me. All I could think of was what that girl, who looked like an angel but spoke with a voice that could only belong to a demon, was saying to me.
I wanted to say something back to her, to claim what was mine, but then remembered that he didn’t belong to me. I didn’t even love him, nor did he love me back. I didn’t know what the heck I was thinking, or why on earth I was feeling this way. I was confused as heck about how much her words hurt, and why I felt the strong need to tell her how wrong she was. Eventually, I did what I’d mostly been doing since I’d left the palace not two hours ago: I chose to stay silent, hating that it might make me appear weaker than I was, but then I thought that if she heard the shaking in my voice, it would be worse.
She was about to say something else–who knows how hurtful it would’ve been this time–but she was cut off by the sound of the door being opened. It was him.
The prince.
My throat tightened and my chest swelled at the sight of him in general. But the look in his eyes? It made my heart bleed. Yeah, I’d hurt him more this time than any other time before. It looked like the wound was so bad, that I had no idea if it would ever heal–and it killed me.
His eyes. Just the look in his eyes was enough to bring new tears to my own. I wished I’d seen him angry or mad; I wished the look in his eyes was disgust or even hatred. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t mad. He was pained. The look in his eyes was pure hurt. Hurt that I had caused with my own hands. I just had no clue that seeing him hurt would hurt me this much. Yeah, I’d been upset before for upsetting him, but not that much. I felt his pain. It went right through me. Straight forward. And it was an ugly feeling.
He held my gaze for what felt like a long time, his eyes saying nothing and so much at the same time. Only one question was I able to hear so loudly: “Why?” I just couldn’t keep looking in those green gardens of his any longer; I had to look down in shame and hug my arms tighter to my body.
When my eyes rose to his again just a moment later, they weren’t looking at me anymore, but at the girl standing beside me. The same one who took her sweet time covering up again with her black clothes, but not as fast as the rest of the women had earlier in the king’s room or even as fast as she had when Prince Fahd entered. The Prince, too, took his own sweet time before he averted his eyes, and that alone was enough to make the pang of jealousy inside me grow even bigger.
“I wasn’t aware anyone else was here,” was the first thing he said, while still looking away from her as she put her scarf on as a veil. I noticed that this was all he was going to say as an apology for entering so abruptly, and realized that he really hardly ever apologized to anyone, just like he’d told me. Yet, he had apologized to me so many times in the past few days, even when it wasn’t his mistake.
What did I do?
“It’s fine,” she told him in the most tender voice you could hear–it was disgusting. “I’ll leave now, I was just keeping Princess Marie company.”
“Thank you, Princess,” he smiled a very small and one-
sided smile, glancing at her for the briefest moment then away again.
Hurt! Hurt! Hurt!
The word ‘Princess’ from his mouth, so tender and gentle, coming out and addressing someone who wasn’t me...hurt. Hurt so badly that my tears did fall right then and there. “It was my pleasure, Your Highness.” She nodded her head once and then left, but not before turning her head to look at me when she was behind him. I knew if I were able to see the look in her eyes, I would’ve seen more of the smugness she’d just shown me, or maybe even a warning. I was glad for the layers covering her face.
When we heard the door closing, the prince’s eyes found mine again, and I didn’t know if I imagined the softness I saw in them or not, for it disappeared the very same moment it appeared and changed to a serious, blank look that I knew so well was hiding pain he didn’t want to show.
“I need to know everything that happened from the minute you left the wing until you were brought here to this room,” he said sternly, a tone he’d never used while talking to me before, “In detail.”
I guess the nice Prince Charming is gone.
When I think of that day Joseph entered my office and announced his plans for marriage, I see a changing point in my life. A major one.
You’d think my changing point would be my wedding day, the night my brother put a gun to my head–but no, it was when my brother told me it was an Arab Muslim he was going to marry. Because that day, I swallowed everything I wanted to say. Kept it in. And stayed silent. Maybe I told him a thing or two to show my objection, but I still accepted it. Eventually.
It had been the same since then. Only gotten worse. My old self was dying one day at a time.
The old me always stood strong, spoke up and took no garbage from anyone. My old self used to scare people with a raised eyebrow, make fully grown men’s legs shake with a long stare if they did something I didn’t like, or if something wasn’t as I had asked. My old self would give orders and things would get done the next minute. But now…I was far from that.
Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) Page 25
