Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) (35 page)

“It’s the
azan
,” he answered.

“The what?”

“
Azan
. It’s the call to prayer. You hear it five times a day, once for each prayer,” he explained.

Huh!

“Why have I never heard it before?”

“Our wing has soundproof walls. Nobody can hear anything from the outside of it or from the inside, only between rooms and when a window is open.”

I nodded my understanding, then stood still as I listened to the sound of it; it was surprisingly nice, peaceful and strong. What I felt was curiosity mixed with hints of that feeling you get when you learn about a new thing–you’re silent as you take things in and observe and then you’re wondering about new questions you never knew you would ask at all.

The prince was looking at me all the while I listened to it with a small smile on his lips, and when the call to the prayer was finished, I gasped again at the sight of a huge guy in a uniform nearing us as we stood on the roof.

Fright hit me hard, I felt it in my stomach before it made its way to my chest, as I watched the guy as he took one step after another toward us, a big gun in his hands just to add to the mix of his thick, black beard and scary, hard features.

“Hey, it’s okay, he’s just one of the guards,” the prince’s voice was nearer to me than before. The arm that he threw around me with his hand holding the space between my shoulder and elbow, and the squeeze he gave it, blew a wave of security and safety right into me and reached my every sense as he hugged me close to his body.

The guard said some words in Arabic that sounded like a greeting and nodded his head once to the prince then to me without making any eye contact with me.

“If you’ll excuse me for not using English right now, Princess, I promise to translate later,” the prince asked and I nodded quickly a few times.

Their conversation went on for only a minute. All the while the prince was holding me to him in reassurance rather than protection, since there was no harmful threat anywhere close. It was all in my head, and I knew in my heart that the prince wouldn’t let him hurt me if it ever came to that. He’d promised.

The guard didn’t glance my way even once, completely ignoring me. His head was bent down all the while he talked to the prince except for a few times that he looked him in the eye. I despised the fact that it was surely because they weren’t allowed to look at any of the royal family in the eye or with such humbleness, because that huge guy looked like a slave to me, with no power whatsoever, just by the pose he was taking as he stood in front of the prince.

When the guard was dismissed, he left with another nod to the prince and a nod to me, and then the prince explained that he was changing shifts with another guard and was only checking if everything was okay or if we needed something.

When it got dark, it was our cue to go back to the wing, because despite the lights that lit up the whole place, there were mosquitoes up there which I definitely didn’t want to be friends with or get to know any better–because if they were in any way related to the ones in New York, then I was better off away from them.

Once we got back, the prince went to offer his prayer in one of the rooms and I followed him. I watched him pray once again and I still felt the same as I’d felt the first time I saw him praying yesterday.

I didn’t know if it was the form of the prayer itself that pulled me to it, or the fact that he was the one who was praying. I only knew that I was so touched, still, by the fact that this commanding man, who made strong, huge men stand still in respect and obey, could be that humble and touch his head to the floor in front of God and
for
God.

I found myself yet again closing my eyes and saying my first prayer while holding a cross that was made of diamonds and
hearts
. Maybe in a different language, maybe with a different religion, maybe in a different prayer, but it was for the
same
God. And I couldn’t love that moment more.

That night as we sat in the living room, the prince taught me more about the secret doors and the alleys. It wasn’t so hard to understand with the technique he’d been using to teach me, but I still felt the need to learn it over and over again, and the prince didn’t hesitate at all to reply to each of my questions or any of my wondering. When we were finished with the day’s lesson, he burned the paper he was using to show me the directions. The feel of him sharing something that important and secretive with me almost made me dizzy with the war of emotions that consumed me.

For a brief second, I wondered if someday soon I’d be using the information for my escape, but my thoughts were interrupted by Mona informing us of Princess Janna’s presence and her request to meet with the prince and me.

“I’m not sure I’m following,” the prince said. “Come again, Janna?”

I looked from the prince to Janna, a frown on my face, waiting for her to obey the prince’s request. I was grateful that he’d asked it at all since I wasn’t following myself or understanding what exactly she wanted.

Janna emptied her lungs in a short sigh that sounded more like a huff. I didn’t know if the prince noticed or not, but she looked exhausted, drained even. Her puffy eyes were bloodshot, and her face was paler than normal. She was smiling, cheerful as ever. All relaxed and appearing whole...but she really wasn’t. I could tell she was
not
well, not at all. Not only emotionally, but physically as well.

Had she slept at all? Had she eaten anything? …Had she stopped crying since yesterday? The questions roamed around my head. Wondering why, if she looked so tired, so sad and just plain depressed, why would she pretend to be happy? Why was she acting as if she was fine and life was rosy and pink? I had no clue. And the thing I was wondering about the most was if she’d spoken to Joseph at all or if they’d already made up.

I doubted it, though. Because it simply didn’t look like it.

I figured that if I was noticing all of this–her face that she was hiding with thick makeup, that although covering
some
of her sadness, still did so little to cover her pain–the prince was probably seeing it, too. Not due to the fact that he was a doctor or anything like that, but the fact that he was her brother. The caring and loving brother I knew he was.

“I want to take Princess Marie to meet Princess Rosanna.”

Um…Rosanna?

“Aha! And why is that?” the prince asked.

“It’s just that Princess Rosanna missed the wedding, as you know, and she wanted to meet Princess Marie to wish her a happy marriage and to give her a wedding gift,” Janna explained.

“Hmm…” her brother replied, his gaze moving away from her and to somewhere above her shoulder. He looked as if he was considering her request, filling the room with silence as I kept glancing between the two of them. The prince kept thinking, not looking my way, and Janna only smiled softly when our eyes met. Said smile failed to reach those thickly kohl-lined eyes of hers, though.

“Princess Rosanna who?” I had to ask.

“She’s our cousin and sister-in-law, Prince Fahd’s wife.”

Huh!

“It’s kind of you both to think of that,” the prince replied. “But you know the seven-day rule; we wouldn’t want to upset our mother by breaking more rules.”

“It won’t be a problem; I already got the queen’s permission,” Janna replied.

“You did?” he sounded surprised.

Her answer was a smiling nod.

“I see,” the prince said. “Well, I don’t mind, but it’s up to the princess,” he turned to look at me. “Would that be something you’d like to do?”

I didn’t reply right away. To be honest, I didn’t know if it was something I wanted to do or was okay with. I didn’t know the princess in question. I didn’t know if she was nice or if she would be like the queen or whatever. But then again, it sounded like she was nice enough to ask to see me so that she could give me my wedding gift.

Or just wants you there to humiliate you,
a voice in my head suggested. I shrugged it off at Janna’s pleading look and replied, “Yeah, sure, why not?” and something told me that the prince wasn’t really that happy about me going away.

“Yay!” Janna squealed half-heartedly and said that Princess Rosanna would be very happy to see me.

I just smiled, and didn’t say anything.

“Mona,” Janna called, bringing Mona to the living room where we were seated within two seconds from the moment she’d said her name.

“Yes, Princess Janna?” Mona replied.

“Please, prepare Princess Marie the brown blouse with roses on the bottom, and blue jeans,” she said, and Mona frowned.

“Um, brown?” she asked.

“Yes, Mona, brown. Don’t you know where it is?” Janna asked with a frown of her own.

“Uh, I’m sure I can find it, Princess. I’ll be right back,” Mona said and disappeared through one of the secret doors.

“I hope you don’t mind me picking something for you to wear, Marie.”

“Um, no. It’s alright. You picked out all of my clothes anyway, right?” I smiled, and she returned it with a small one.

“Janna,” the prince got her attention with a call of her name, “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m okay,” was her instant reply, but she didn’t sound or look like it.

The prince nodded slowly, he was not very convinced by her reply either. I could tell.

“I still need to see you before you have to leave,” he told her.

The prince and his sister held each other’s gaze for a moment too long, before Janna nodded with yet another fake smile and a, “Yes, of course.”

Before I could wonder what that was all about, Mona chose that moment to come back, looking frustrated and not very happy, more likely annoyed, even.

“I apologize, Princess Janna, but I can’t find any brown blouse with roses on the bottom,” she said.

Janna sighed dramatically–which made me frown–and got up. “I’ll have to get it myself, then. C’mon Marie,” she said and walked to the secret door Mona had just come from before I could reply.

When I looked at the prince, he just smiled a small smile and shrugged as if telling me silently
‘That’s Janna for you,’
and the look in his eyes made me smile with my own. I then got up and followed them into the closet.

Inside, Janna went for a line of shirts and blouses, picking up one with short sleeves and roses at the bottom, just like she’d described. But it was actually dark red, not brown.

I thought it was strange, I couldn’t understand how Janna would confuse dark red with brown. I mean, it was pretty obvious that Janna had a very keen sense when it came to fashion–everything around me was huge proof of that: the furniture, the decorations, all of the clothes. It was really confusing how could she confuse the colors.

“Um, that’s not brown, Princess,” Mona commented.

“Ah! Yeah, my mistake, I guess it slipped my mind,” Janna said, shrugging, and Mona just smiled. “What do you think, Marie? Do you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Thanks,” I replied, and at my answer Mona reached for the blouse to take it from Janna’s hand, but Janna moved it out of her reach, objecting.