Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) (33 page)

“Papa!” My voice was panicked and my breaths were shallow. Fear filled my insides and tears filled my eyes.

“Manon,” his voice was very low and his breaths were barely there. Worry filled his words and an undeniable sorrow filled his tone.

“Papa, I’m so scared, please come here already,” begs and pleas.

“I’m afraid I won’t make it this time, Sweetie-Pie,” gasps and sobs.

“No, no, Papa, you have to come here, you have to.”

“Papa loves you so much, Manon.”

Do you know that feeling you get when you wake up in a bed that’s not yours? You open your eyes and look around, wondering where you are, and what has brought you there. Panic and confusion fill your senses for a moment or two, until you remember everything?

Well, that wasn’t what happened to me this time, when I woke up in that bed that was supposed to be mine and the prince’s. I knew right away where I was, even before I opened my eyes. The strong scent of musk and ambergris refreshed my memory, and reminded me of everything I hadn’t ever forgotten.

Memories came rushing back to me, of my brother and his wedding that turned out to be mine as well, followed by the prince cutting his shoulder to protect my honor, or his, or maybe his sister’s, who knows…then getting sick and waking up, thinking that he’d hurt me somehow or while I was sleeping. Janna and her promise, and then the queen threatening my life. Salma and Thunder. Hope and Faith…

A small smile tugged on my lips at the thought of the good time I’d had with the horses, and I opened my eyes thinking it’d be to bright sunlight, only to be met by the bright green that was the prince’s eyes.

My gaze held his for a moment. He was sitting on the side of the bed, right beside me; his eyes were on me and his lips smiled softly. My first thought was to wonder how long he had been sitting there…watching me. My second thought was a memory of those smiling lips pressed into my own.

My smile died.

“Good morning, Sleepy Princess,” he said. “Good afternoon, I mean.” His smile remained and his voice was just above a whisper, as if not to disturb me.

I sat up on the bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, then asked, “What time is it?”

“A bit after four.”

Huh!

“I slept for too long,” I sighed, moving a hand through my hair and stretching a little with a small yawn.

“Not that much, you went to sleep at almost seven,” the prince said. When I looked into his eyes, I found that something had shifted in them, something I had no idea what it was.

“Yeah,” I replied in a low voice, my eyes searching his for answers to questions I couldn’t even place for myself.

“Were you having a bad dream?” he asked in a voice that was barely louder than mine.

I swallowed thickly, wondering if I’d been talking in my sleep. And though I didn’t want to answer him, I still found myself doing the opposite.

“A nightmare,” was my reply. A
memory
, was the truer answer.

A moment of silence filled the room, and I assumed he saw that I wasn’t going to say anything more about it than that, since he asked no more questions. That moment was followed by the prince taking a glass of water from the nightstand beside me and handing it to me. “Here,” he said. I took it from him with a ‘thank you’ and started drinking, thoughts of the, uh…
thing
we’d shared last night–or in the very early hours of today–consuming me. What I’d said to him earlier this morning almost caused me to blush in embarrassment, only because I’d said what I said and, yet, he was
still
being kind enough to offer me water and…those warm looks.

When I was finished with the water, I placed the glass back on the nightstand, noticing that small box I’d seen last night when I woke up from my little nap. I picked it up and examined it.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Um, it’s for you, why don’t you open it?” the prince replied. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said there was a bit of bashfulness in his looking-away-from-me-and-focused-on-the-box eyes.

I frowned slightly, confused by that certain look and why it was there, then opened the small box in my hands. I drowned in shock right away.

I couldn’t do anything except stare, but even that was interrupted by the blurry vision caused by my teary eyes. A wave of mixed feelings and a rush of a hundred questions hit me hard, paining and curing me at the very same time.

Longing. Passion. Ache. Wonder. Happiness. Embarrassment. And, gratefulness.

When? How? And, why?

I blinked the tears away and let out the breath I’d been holding, still staring and still too shocked to speak. It seemed like all I was able to do was gawk. Ogle. Shake my head slightly. Press my lips together hard. I was just…I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“I hope those tears are not because of how bad the design is?” the prince’s voice brought me back from my shocked state, his tone urging me to say something. Anything.

“It’s- it’s…beautiful,” I breathed out, wiping my tears with the back of my left hand, my right one clutching the small box for dear life.

The grin that dominated the prince’s beautiful features when I said that was almost blinding.

And infectious.

“Thank you so much,” I said with gratitude filling my every sense and a grin decorating my face. I had no idea if
he
had any idea how much this meant to me.
I
couldn’t even tell how much this meant to me. So much. More than so much.

“You’ve very welcome, Beautiful Princess,” he said with the smile still living on his lips.

“It’s so beautiful,” I said in awe as I stared at it some more.

“Beautiful princesses should only get beautiful things,” His words expressed sincerity and it made my chest swell at the sound of it.

It wasn’t the amount of diamonds that were placed in the piece of jewelry that he’d just gifted me that made me so in love with it. No, it was the jewelry itself and what it resembled, what it meant and what it felt like to realize all of those things.

“When did you buy it?” I wondered. Because this beautiful thing in my hands wasn’t something you could just pick up from a store, and mine only broke last night. Of course he would have had to search for it or so…I just couldn’t get when would he buy this, nor where.

“Last night when I went to see Salma, I asked one of the guards to go to the family’s jewelry designer and get him to do this for you. I gave him the details and how I wanted it to look, and once I got the box in my hand, I came back right away,” he explained, smiling.

“Oh, my goodness!” I gushed. “I can’t believe you got it done in such a short time.”

He only shrugged with the smile still on his lips.

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘details’?”

“I had the picture for it in my mind and I told him about it; he made it just like I wanted it.”

“Wow! It’s as if you designed it yourself!”

His answering grin was outstanding, and my chest ached some more.

I couldn’t wait any longer, I wanted to wear it right then and there. It just had to be worn, and it felt like I would put it inside of my heart if I was able to.

I took the necklace out of the box. The diamonds in the cross charm made it heavier than any charm I’d ever worn before, but then again, I’d never worn something that beautiful before. I’d always worn pretty stuff, yeah, but nothing was ever
that
beautiful.

The cross-shaped charm was decorated with tiny, small and large diamond stones–so many diamonds. A large stone in the center was shaped like a rose and it was surrounded by four hearts–three of them were the same size, and one that was much longer and took the place of the bottom part of the cross.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. It was a cross made of hearts.
Hearts
. And
he
designed it. Him. The prince.

I fumbled a bit with the lock, but got it done eventually, then looked down at the cross hanging over my chest and couldn’t help grinning widely and thanking the prince once again.

“It’s too much,” I said.

“
Nothing
is too much when it’s for you, Beautiful Princess,” he told me.

A blush crept up my face and neck as I looked into his beautiful green eyes. His words–yet again–sounded very honest and his expression looked very true. And I…I couldn’t understand.

“Why are you like this?” Because I had to ask.

Our eyes stayed locked together for longer than a few moments, before he sighed then answered my question, “I’ve been wondering the same thing, Princess.”

More confusion. His answer made me even more confused. I couldn’t understand if he meant that he was wondering the same thing, as in
why was he like that with me?
or if he was wondering
why
I
was like that
but wouldn’t ask me the question that I’d just asked him.

I bit my bottom lip, my eyes narrowing a little and my head cocking to the side, as I tried to solve the mystery that was the prince sitting in front of me.

Why was he so very patient with me this way? Why was he that kind? I’d hurt him last night and told him we couldn’t be even friends. I’d never apologized. For anything, that is. Why would he be like this?

He gave me a cross! He gave me
hearts
! He also gave me
no
hint of an explanation as to why he was like this. Why was he treating me like this? Why was he so good to me? Why?

Lies
.

Games.

Traps.

“Why are you okay with me wearing a cross while
your
mother
is not?”

He frowned. “My mother is not okay with you wearing a cross? I don’t think so.”

“Oh, trust me. She’s not!” I almost snorted, did he know his mother at all?

“Why would you say that?” His frown deepened.

“She told me that herself.”

“She did what?” His confused frown turned into shocked, wide eyes.

“Yep, she said she wished her only child had gotten married to someone better than me, and that she would’ve been grateful if you’d married a Muslim instead, when I wouldn’t take off my cross at her demand.”

I watched as his nostrils flared and anger filled his eyes as he clenched his fists. “I can’t believe she said that!”

“I have no reason to lie.”

“Of course. It’s not what I meant, I just–” He didn’t complete his thought, only moved a hand through his wild locks of hair, gripping it in frustration, groaning before shaking his head and looking down toward his lap. “She shouldn’t have said that,” he eventually said in a low voice.

“Yeah,” I emptied my lungs in a long sigh.

“People should never be judged for what kind of faith they’ve chosen to be theirs, Princess.” His eyes met mine again, and it made me wonder if his words were meant for his mother’s actions or…
mine
.

I didn’t reply to him, I only held his gaze for a few moments, searching for a confirmation to my doubts, but I found none. He was
always
so hard to read.

It didn’t stop my wondering, though.

“True,” was my one-word reply.

“I’m sorr–”

“It wasn’t your fault,” I interrupted him, shaking my head. “And it’s no big deal, anyway.”

“No big deal?” he asked, surprised. “You mean it didn’t hurt you? To be taken as a less-than-good person, without you doing anything to give the person judging you a bad impression of yourself? It doesn’t hurt at all to know that
only
because of your faith someone will
always
think less of you–no matter what? It doesn’t hurt, Princess?”

My eyes moved between his for a second, perceiving, observing. I swallowed thickly, “I guess it does.”

It wasn’t news to me that I’d hurt the prince more times than I cared to admit since the day of the wedding, but it was out of my hands. I wouldn’t lie and say I didn’t mean it, because I did. I meant to hurt him. It was just that…God! I couldn’t believe how similar I was to…the queen.

Yeah, to the queen of all people.

But it wasn’t like that with me; I didn’t judge a person because of their race or religion. The girl that was as close to me as anyone could get–my assistant–was African-American. A very decent number of my employees were Jewish or Atheists. I didn’t have anything against different races or religions. Or…did I? No, of course not. It was only
this
particular religion that I had a problem with. And I had my reasons. I did. I wasn’t like her…no, I wasn’t. Or…was I?