“Oh, dear God!”
“It was pure coincidence that I went there at all. I believe God wanted to keep her safe, that’s why I found her. She’s too young for death, the poor girl.” Sorrow was dripping from her voice.
“Thank God you found her in time,” I told her.
“Thank God I was able to get Prince Mazen in time: he helped a lot.”
I nodded my head slowly and looked down. That was how she’d planned to keep him busy.
All my fault…
“He must’ve been really scared.” I shook my head in sympathy, sorrow consuming me.
“He was. He loves her very much. I can’t even think what would’ve happened if–God forbid–something bad had happened to her.”
I nodded, understanding. “Where is she now?” I wondered if I could see her…
“In the sky.”
“What?” I shouted. “But you said she was okay...”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Princess. I meant on a jet, on her way to the US,” she replied.
“Oh,” I sighed in relief, then we stayed silent for a few moments. “Wait, why is she on a plane in such condition?”
“The family doctor is with her with his team, and she will be okay if God wills. She didn’t lose enough blood to make it life-threatening, but she will have a blood transfusion on the plane as Prince Mazen suggested. It was the best way to prevent anyone from finding out what’d happened. Rumors would start if anyone learned about it, or that she was still in the palace at all–plus what happened with Prince Jasem…things wouldn’t have turned out well,” she explained. “Now everything is back on track, and, hopefully, will stay this way.”
I pursed my lips, finding everything to be very complicated and it would’ve become even messier if just one thing hadn’t happened. Though I was sure there was more than one private jet owned by the royal family, I was glad I didn’t get on that one I was going to flee on. Because it was ready to go to the States and everything was prepared for that trip, it made Janna’s departure easier than it would’ve been if it wasn’t ready, as well as removing the risk of anyone knowing about her still being in the palace or what she tried to do.
After another short period of silence, I decided to get back to my room–I’d learned that Janna was okay, and that was all that mattered. “I’m going to go back now,” I said. “Thank you for everything, you really don’t know how much this means to me,” I smiled softly at her, and she returned it with a smile just as soft.
Just as I was about to get up off the stool, Mona spoke, “By the way, Princess,” I turned my gaze back to her and stopped midway to standing, “Prince Fahd loves Princess Janna just as much as Prince Mazen loves her, if not even more–he would’ve never hurt her,” she said.
Huh!
Her words made me sit back on the stool, my eyes locked on hers, not really looking at her but rather trying to understand her words–was she for real? I had to ask, “Seriously? I wouldn’t think that of the one who wanted to beat her near death, and actually did slap her more than once when he learned she was pregnant.”
Mona looked surprised that I knew that story, but then recovered quickly and sighed before replying, “I guess Princess Janna was the one to tell you that story.” I didn’t say anything. “It’s a good thing she thought that: it was the point, to know that what she’d done was a really bad thing to do, a line that should’ve never been crossed.”
“What do you mean by ‘Good thing she thought that’? You mean it wasn’t actually the case?” I asked.
“Of course not, Princess,” she replied, “but Prince Fahd had to do it.”
“How?”
“It’s really not my place to tell, Princess.”
“Please, Mona, you can tell me. You’ve already told me a lot, so what’s one other thing?” I tried to be convincing.
Mona took a deep breath. “Prince Mazen was the first to learn about Princess Janna’s pregnancy, and Prince Fahd was the only one he told after that,” she started. “Only I know of what really happened after that.
“Both of them were really mad and angry, at your brother more than anything, but they were raised well: they knew that acting with anger wouldn’t cause anything but more damage. That’s a thing you need to learn well in order to rule a country, and they did so, they made a plan.”
“A plan?” I frowned.
“Yes, Princess,” she answered. “They made it look as if Prince Fahd learned about it at the same time as the queen, when Prince Mazen asked for both to come to Princess Janna’s wing. They knew the queen would be furious and even madder if Princess Janna wasn’t punished. She would’ve raised the issue with the king–and not in a good way–and done whatever it took to get Princess Janna her punishment, to be killed,” she sighed. “The queen has one rule that she respects most of all: respect all of the rules. Their plan was that one of them had to slap their sister in the presence of the queen, and make it look like he was going to kill her. Prince Mazen couldn’t do it, so Prince Fahd took care of it even if his heart was breaking inside–and trust me, it was. When it happened, Prince Mazen acted as if he was angry with his brother and pushed him away from Princess Janna. They threw fists at each other and made it look ugly, believable enough for the queen to believe that one of them was going to die if she didn’t stop them. Prince Mazen made it clear he wouldn’t see his sister killed, no matter what, even if he had to die for it. They made the queen come up with finding another solution herself, as that had been their plan from the start: for it to be her own idea–and it worked. Because the queen definitely wouldn’t want to see her son getting killed for something he didn’t even do,” Mona smiled.
“Wow!” I breathed.
“Sadly, the king still didn’t take it well, even though he learned about it with the solution of the trade tailing the news of her pregnancy.”
“Yeah, may God cure him,” I prayed: he seemed like a kind person.
“There are lots of things we wouldn’t know if we only heard the story from one side, Princess. And when it comes to the royal family, you can never tell what hidden intentions there are in the story, even if you heard it from both sides. Trust me, I know.”
I studied her a little longer, my eyes narrowing. “You’re really not only a servant, are you?” I asked.
“What would make you say that, Princess?” she asked with a hint of a smile on her lips.
“Aside from the fact that Prince Fahd was really surprised that you were my servant, and the fact that you knew of Janna’s pregnancy like I expected, you sure know lots of things that no servant could know without one of those persons you just talked about telling you those things themselves,” I told her.
She smiled. “No, Princess, I’m not a servant anymore, for over ten years now. Prince Mazen ordered it once he was old enough to give orders,” she told me.
“Then why are you serving me, and why did you introduce yourself as my servant?”
“Prince Mazen asked me to do it for the first seven days, until you choose one yourself. I’m the only one whom he trusted to serve you well.”
“Why?”
“Islam makes me his mother, something the queen doesn’t really like for me, or him, to address by that title,” she said.
“How so?” I frowned.
“I raised him since he was a little baby. I breastfed him along with my own daughter, as well as Prince Fahd, when his servant got sick or whatever. In Islam, I take the title of his Nursery Mother just by having done so a certain number of times.” There was undeniable pride in her words.
“Oh, I see,” I said, “That’s – nice,” was all I could say. I really needed lots of time alone to be able to process all of this.
Right at the same minute, I heard a buzz that I hadn’t heard before, and Mona stood up right away. “That would be one of the queen’s servants bringing breakfast, I have to get that.”
I nodded. “Yeah, sure, thanks again,” I smiled, getting up this time and heading back to the
sunroom and then to the bedroom.
While I lay awake on my bed, I couldn’t help but think about all of the things Mona had told me. I was glad to learn that Janna was okay, I just hated that she was so depressed that she thought about ending her life. The poor girl had dealt with so much since she’d gotten pregnant, I couldn’t even imagine what she’d gone through. She believed that one of her brothers wanted to kill her, and the other didn’t want anything to do with her. They were really upset with her choices and they made her believe that they were mad, to the point of not wanting to deal with her at all. I’d seen it with my own eyes just the day before: the last time she’d come here with Joseph, the prince wouldn’t even look at her.
Their culture was really complicated. I knew that in old Europe it was really bad to get pregnant outside of marriage–heck, it’s still not very acceptable now in some Eastern countries or even in some states in America–but I don’t think they ever kill for it. Or maybe I didn’t know…truth was, I’d never really given it that much thought.
My thoughts drifted to the prince, and what he himself had gone through: it was a lot, and devastating to even think about it. It seemed that he hadn’t taken a breather since everything happened with Janna, and because of her. And now with my escape attempt…
I didn’t think he would ever hurt me. He’d promised. I didn’t know why I’d ever thought he would. After all, he’d only been kind to me and had never made any move that spoke of bad intentions.
I found myself thinking of how I wanted things to get back to how they were just a day ago, or like those few hours we spent in the royal stable. I sighed, my thoughts really confusing and annoying me. Certain thoughts of what he’d done to defend me made me smile a goofy smile, despite everything that was going on inside of my head. But when I remembered his reply, and how he’d said that he only did it to keep his promise of keeping me safe, my smile dropped and I started having weird and stupid–oh, so stupid–feelings.
Before I thanked him, I’d kept thinking that maybe he had feelings for me, and that was why he’d done all of that; but when I asked him, he said it was only to keep a promise. And now, I was upset that it didn’t mean he had feelings for me, and even more upset at myself. No...I was actually mad at myself for being upset that he didn’t have feelings for me. Why on earth did I want him to have feelings for me? It was really crazy. I was going crazy.
Not too much later, Mona knocked. When she came in, she held the tray with our breakfasts on it. She set it on the round table in the middle of the room as usual, smiling and telling me she would be informing the prince that breakfast was ready.
Though I still didn’t feel much like eating, I still got excited that he was finally coming back to our room. Maybe when he got here and we had breakfast together, I’d figure out how he truly felt about all of what happened, and if he was very upset with me because of it...or not much...or hopefully not at all.
My hopes dropped when Mona came back to tell me that the prince would only have some tea for breakfast…in the living room.
He still doesn’t want to see me, I thought. But I really wasn’t going to just sit there and do nothing about it. My old self needed to get back in the driver’s seat: enough of that weak and miserable person who barely knew how to act anymore.
I got out of bed. “Mona, please leave it,” I told her. “I’ll get him his tea.”
Mona actually grinned for the first time in what seemed like a long time at my statement about going to the prince with his tea, and then nodded. She prepared the smaller tray that held the teapot and a cup with a plate of English cake, while I fixed my hair and took a look in the mirror to see how wrinkled my blue short-sleeved shirt and navy sweatpants were. They looked fine.
“Shall I put your coffee with it, Princess?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” I smiled, and she added another elegant cup with the coffee pot to the tray. Mona then carried the tray and was about to take it in to the prince herself, I imagined, thinking that I’d be following, but I stopped her.
“Please, let me,” I said softly.
“But, Princess–”
“C’mon, Mona, I’m not that spoiled, I know how to carry a tray,” I smiled.
She smiled back. “All right, let me open the door for you.” After handing me the tray, she opened the secret door and held it open for me as I went inside, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to her. She replied with a smile and a nod before she closed it again.
The prince wasn’t sitting on the armchair I’d seen him sitting on last night. I searched for him with my eyes only to find him standing in front of a large window which dominated one of the side walls of the living room.
I set the tray on a table near him, the tray making a noise when it touched the glass tabletop, so there was no way he hadn’t heard, yet...he didn’t move at all, seemingly deep in thought.
I cleared my throat, but it was no use. I thought it would be better to just pour him that cup of tea, so I did, then asked, “How much sugar?” my voice soft and my tone calm.
It was then that the prince turned his head to look in my direction. His eyes didn’t hold the same amount of emotions I’d seen in them about six hours ago. They now held sadness most of all, more than I’d seen in any sad eyes before–and I’d seen a lot. It made me sad myself, but I kept my soft smile in place as I kept my eyes locked on his green ones.
The prince didn’t reply to me. He looked back out the window for a second, sighed, then turned around and took the two or three steps that separated us and picked up two sugar cubes, putting them in the cup before stirring it with a teaspoon. Then he took his cup of tea and moved back to where he’d been standing a minute ago. No words. At all.
Oh-kay…
I pressed my lips together, disappointed that he seemed to not really want to talk to me, but I wasn’t going to give up so soon. I really wanted to talk to him.
I poured myself my own cup of coffee, picked it up and went to stand beside him. Out of the window, I was able to see a part of our bedroom window, and when I looked down, it was the beautiful garden I’d grown to like a lot; its bright green was almost the same as the prince’s beautiful eyes.
“Uh…is it okay for me to drink coffee, Doc?” I smiled, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. “I feel fine.”
“You answered for yourself,” he said sternly, not even glancing my way, and then sipped his tea.
Ouch!
I shook my head slightly, but didn’t comment, trying to act as if it wasn’t so obvious that he wasn’t fond of my presence. I took a sip of my hot coffee and gazed at the sight in front of me, though I wasn’t really enjoying it, not with what was going on around me. Um…beside me.
When he was finished with his tea, he went and put his cup on the tray, and I followed suit, thinking of something else to talk to him about. I really hated that he was ignoring me this way. I hated his silence; I wished he would tell me something, anything – even yell at me. It was seriously annoying.
“Can we talk, please?” I asked him as he was about to go back to his spot in front of the window.
“I don’t want to talk,” he said, still avoiding my eyes–or even my direction entirely.
“I’m not used to that from you,” I said, surprising myself with my use of the words ‘used to,’ but I recovered quickly. “You’ve always talked to me when something needs explaining or to be discussed.”
He turned his head toward me and then offered a one-sided smile that didn’t look like a smile at all, more like a sneer, but not really a sneer at the same time. Ugh! “I’m not in the mood for talking,” he said and then looked back out of the window again. His words reminded me of all of the times I’d replied to him with the very same words when he said he wanted to talk to me, and it didn’t feel so good.
Everything in me told me to just let it go and let him be and simply go back to my room, but I still didn’t do it. I didn’t want to leave him, I wanted to talk with him. “Why don’t you just yell
at me and tell me that you’re mad at me and just let me have it?” I asked in frustration.
I thought he would seriously start yelling at me after that, but he didn’t. He was really calm when he said, “I don’t happen to cry over spilled milk.”
Huh!
“Oh, I thought you didn’t cry at all,” I challenged, feeling stupid for speaking so childishly.
“You’re right, I don’t cry at all, and I won’t be doing it over spilled milk,” he replied coldly, frustrating me even more. Freaking spilled milk! “What happened, happened. Talking about it won’t turn back time.”
I looked down, embarrassed maybe. He was right, but…I didn’t like for us to be like this. Don’t even ask me why, because the heck if I knew. “Are you mad at me?” I whispered my question.
His silence was his answer.
“Please reply.”
“I am,” he replied, and his answer, though expected...it hurt. “For putting your life in danger,” he continued, and my stomach fluttered. Was that really why he was mad? “It almost broke my promise.”
Oh…that.
The hurt was back.
Still don’t ask why.
Still didn’t know the answer.
“Was that–all...” the question simply came out, “because of your promise?”
“Why else would I be?”
“I thought that…maybe you cared for me.” I just couldn’t hold it in.
The prince turned around so he was facing me, with a look I didn’t get on his face. I could read confusion, but there was something else I just couldn’t find a word for. “Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“Why would you want me to care? Because I’m a toy you’d like to play with?” A hint of hurt was lacing his voice.
“Why would you say that? I don’t think that of you!”
“Do you really want me to count?” he asked, but answered at the same time, saying with his question that it was more than one time that I’d made him think I thought of him as someone I could fool. “We had a deal, Princess.” Him calling me ‘Princess’ again, and addressing me when he talked, was like a breath of fresh air and a cool breeze on a hot and sunny day. I even wanted to smile, but it wasn’t the best time to do so. I just listened to him talk, glad that he was finally doing so.
Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) Page 28
