Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) (39 page)

He mumbled a few more words in Arabic, and I could’ve sworn that my blood not only ran cold, but froze when he came even closer to me, so that our faces were almost touching–despite my efforts to move mine away from him–and then voiced the word “Speak!” in the most terrifying voice I’ve ever heard.

My tears chose that moment to come loose. I cried, scared and horrified, now knowing that I was truly busted, because that guy had just spoken in English–meaning he knew who I was, though I had no idea how he was able to tell it was me.

The next thing I knew, my face cover was being yanked away from my face and the air hit my flushed cheeks, where the tears had wet enough to tell exactly how terrified I was.

“Well, well, well!” he said, and my throat closed, making it harder to breathe. “What do we have here?” His accent was thicker than a drunken alien just visiting Earth for the first time. “Isn’t this the bride of Prince Mazen?” It wasn’t actually a question; he already knew the answer, there was no doubt of that.

I just stared at him with my frightened eyes. Even now, knowing my cover was blown and I could finally speak, I didn’t know what to say.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and I still didn’t know what to say–because...seriously? What was there to say?

Apparently, my silence didn’t please him all that much because his grip on my arm tightened, and I did wince this time. With his mouth almost pressed to my ear he spoke aloud, “Speak, woman!” The disgusting stench of his breath was bad enough to make me gag, and that was met by him shoving my arm a bit so that I almost lost my balance and fell, but his grip on my arm prevented that from happening.

Why he was treating me this way was beyond me. I couldn’t understand his reasoning, even after he realized I was the prince’s bride. But I thought that he might have figured out that I was escaping; this was the way that led to the airport anyway, and it’d only been four days since the wedding–of course he could smell that something big was off. If he could smell
anything
through his nasty, stinking breath, that is.

I was brought back from my thoughts, to what was going on, by the guy gripping me as he walked me toward that BMW of his, saying, “You shouldn’t be here, don’t you think? I’m taking you back to the palace. I believe the king would like to know why you were here and not there.” It was only then that I found my voice and the courage to let it be heard, or maybe it was fear speaking–either way, I just spoke frantically.

“No, no, no! Please, don’t take me back to the palace. Please, don’t!” I tried pulling my arm away from the deathly grip he had on it, but it was no use. He was really strong and I had no power over him. However, my words made him stop dragging me and turn to look at me with questioning eyes.

“And why is that?”

I swallowed thickly. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him everything about how I’d come here and what had happened next, but something stopped me. I guess it was my fear that it might cause some harm to Janna. I didn’t know who this guy was yet, or if information like that could put Janna in danger, so I didn’t tell him. I just used the only tactic I could think of so fast.

“Listen, I have money. Lots of it. I’ll give you anything you wish for, any amount. Just please don’t take me there, please!”

It was the first time I ever got to hear what Satan’s laugh would sound like, because it couldn’t be any more evil-sounding than this guy’s laugh. His laugh, that sounded as if it came straight from his heart–if he had one–was the response to my offer.

“I’m not interested in your money, you witch,” he said, and my eyes widened. “I’m only interested in knowing what you are doing here with those last year’s Jimmy Choos of yours, and why you don’t want to go back!”

A new round of tears made it out of my eyes at the sound of his words, now knowing that money wouldn’t help, and that this guy would drag me back to the palace no matter what.

Lord, give me the strength.

The next minute, I was sitting in his car, knowing full well that trying to run again wouldn’t do me any good: I’d just get manhandled and shoved around some more.

The fear of the unknown, and my mind wondering what would happen to me now, or what would happen to Janna, were so heavy that all I wanted to do was to scream my head off. The idea of throwing myself out of the car sounded so nice, compared to the thoughts and the pictures I imagined of what was to come my way when I got there.

When I was able to see the palace again from the passenger seat, my knees started shaking and my lips started trembling–to the point I thought I wouldn’t be able to walk one step or voice one word if I had to.

I couldn’t believe that I was already back at the palace when the car stopped right outside one of the doors that lead inside. I had been gone no longer than half an hour, if not far less. I couldn’t believe I was brought back that easily. Very easily and too fast.

Yea, thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.

Arabic. Arabic. Arabic everywhere around me. I couldn’t understand anything. It wasn’t as frustrating as it was scary. The fact that I didn’t know what the guy was saying to the others was very scary. They were giving me strange looks, shocked and disbelieving ones. It was too scary– I was scared out of my skin.

Give me, give me the strength.

The familiar smell of the palace, the heavy scent of ambergris and sandalwood reminded me of all of the nice times I’d had inside this place rather than the terrifying moments, and I found myself regretting what had happened. My regret caused more confusion between me and myself; I couldn’t even understand what I was thinking now, or what I’d been thinking then. I just thought that maybe if I hadn’t gone along with Janna’s plan, things wouldn’t have been this way. I wouldn’t be this terrified, breaking into a cold sweat, shaking and being gripped, pulled and shoved constantly while getting odd looks from all of the guards around me–the same ones who were ordered not to look at women or whatever. But something in me told me they wanted to help, as if they wanted to stop him, but couldn’t. I felt as if they were scared of him, and to be honest, I didn’t blame them. He was pure evil to me, and I didn’t even know his name or know him longer than a few minutes.

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.