Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) (7 page)

I nodded.

“Please, speak loud,
Benty
,”

“I—do,” the broken plea was out of my mouth as I spoke the words.

When I was done, and the man left, Joseph moved the gun away from my head and let go of my hair. I could see from the corner of my eye as he put it back in his pocket. He then knelt in front of me again and took my shaking hands in his.

“Thank you, Marie. I’ll always owe you, for the rest of my life.”

His words brought back Janna’s almost-same words into my mind. Did she know about this? Of course she did. But the real question was: did she know I was being forced right now to give up my life for hers?

I didn’t know …

By the time Joseph left the room and closed the door behind him, I was crying hysterically. I fell on my side on the couch and cried my eyes out, holding my cross next to my heart for dear life, begging God for mercy, to give me the strength to withstand my brother’s betrayal.

I couldn’t believe Joseph would really do this. And to me of all people? What was going on in the world? What kind of world is this anyway?

Oh, my God!

I couldn’t register the fact that I had just celebrated
my wedding
. I had just celebrated my wedding with people I didn’t even know! How could I be so stupid? How come I didn’t pick up on all of the signs that it was my own wedding party along with my brother’s?

They gave me all of those diamonds, just like they gave them to Janna. The prince put all of those jewels on me, just like Joseph did with her. My arm was hooked in his as we walked to the hall. Just like our siblings.

They wanted me to wear a wedding dress. A freaking wedding dress. Huda said it was a tradition. Of course it was. The bride should wear a huge, white wedding dress, not a silver one like the one I was wearing!

A tradition.

Oh, my God! She said I had to wax as well? Why did they want me to wax? Was it for the fact that I’d be sleeping with the prince soon? Tonight?

Oh, God! I’d never let that pig touch me!

I shot up into standing position like the couch was on fire and looked around, finally really taking the room in. The sheets on the bed were white with red rosebuds all over them, shaped like a giant heart.

God! Oh, God!

I felt a bit lightheaded as I imagined myself on that bed doing what they expected me to do.

I ran to stand next to the bed where I saw colored lights coming from a window on the wall beside it. I looked closely, searching for a way to escape from that window but found none since it was blocked by iron bars from the outside.

With hurried steps, I made my way to the door in the corner of the room, which turned out to be a bathroom, just like I had expected – a freakishly huge one, at that. I looked all over the bathroom for any sort of an exit but all of my efforts to find one came out fruitless.

My hands came to my collar and I yanked the button that held my robe together over my body and let it fall to the floor; it was choking me. I gripped the same hair that my brother had just let go of not ten minutes earlier and groaned in frustration, my tears out of my control.

That was it. There was no way out for me. No way at all.

My eyes caught my reflection in the mirror and I didn’t like what I saw. It was a sad girl with black tears running down her cheeks and a broken heart caused by her brother’s unfaithfulness.

In my frustrated state, I didn’t realize I had picked up a bottle of lotion from the counter and smashed the mirror with it until I saw the shattered pieces flying down to the floor.

Once I saw those broken pieces, a thought crept into my mind:
I have to hurt the prince.
There was no other way. I’d give up my own life before I gave up my body to him.

After I washed my face and ran a brush through my hair, I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for
him
.

I had a sharp piece of the mirror in my hand, holding it securely but carefully, so as to not let it dig into my skin, hiding it with the robe I’d put on once again. I had no idea what I was going to do, other than I was going to protect myself with it. There was no way I wasn’t going to fight him; if it came down to it, and he wouldn’t be threatened, then I’d just have to hurt him, and I’d run away when he went down. Once again, I didn’t know what I was going to do once I left this room, but at least I’d be out of it.

God will help me.

As expected, I heard a knock, and immediately my heartbeat sped up. The door was opened just a moment after the knock without me telling him to enter the room.

What I didn’t expect though, was that it wasn’t a
him
by the door, but a woman wearing black clothes, who looked to be in her late thirties or a bit older. She entered the room and closed the door behind her.

“Princess Marie,” she said, and bowed her head in a sort of nod.

Princess. I’m a princess now. And not even slightly happy about it.

“I am Mona, your servant. Is there is anything I can help you with?” she asked with a heavy accent, but in perfect English nonetheless.

Servant.

I wanted to break the news to her, telling her that she’d be without a job soon, but held my tongue.

I shook my head.

“I can help you change your clothes, Princess.”

“I’m fine,” I said firmly.

“As you wish, Princess. Prince Mazen will be here shortly.”

Hallelujah!

“If you need anything, just call my name,” she said with a soft smile before leaving.

I held my breath as I kept staring at the door, waiting for it to be opened and reveal my never-going-to-be husband.

My heart started thumping again in my chest when I saw the knob turning, and the stupid door being opened again.

The prince entered the room in all of his royal, handsome glory. I swallowed thickly as I watched him close the door, then lock it.

God! Oh, God!

He flashed me a crooked smile that I was so sure had dropped many panties before, but it wasn’t going to work with mine. Not tonight.

The prince came closer to me and my breath hitched as he made his way to the bed where I was sitting.

My husband.

He was my husband and I’d yet to hear one word out of his mouth.

How sad was that?

Once he was standing right in front of me, he reached for me with his hand. I tried my best not to flinch as it came closer to my body, clutching the broken piece of glass in my own hand under the robe.

He kept his hand in the air and I stared at it. He wanted me to put my hand in his, but I wasn’t so sure I wanted to do that.

“Princess,” he said, his voice softer than velvet – the first word I’d ever heard from him. A word that sent shivers down my spine.

I found my hand reaching for his without any effort from me. Looking up into his face when I was finally on my feet, I found him still smiling that dazzling smile of his. He was even more handsome than an hour ago if that was possible. I found myself wondering how I’d feel about him if he wasn’t what he was, if he was something else, instead of everything I despised. I could imagine myself easily falling for him, and I was the one who never fell for anybody.

They were crazy, the emotions inside me; it was crazy.

And not fair.

His other hand came up to my face and he brushed a wayward lock of hair out of my face. For some unknown reason, I found my eyes burning with my unshed tears, tears I had no idea why they were there in the first place.

“You’re such a beauty,” he said in a low voice, genuine admiration in his voice.

For a moment, I felt bad. Maybe he was nice after all, but – no way– I wasn’t going to fall into his trap; it was only a mask, I knew it.

“My beautiful bride,” he whispered. The thumb of the hand that was now touching my jaw made a soft brush over my cheek, close to my mouth, before his eyes left my own to focus on my lips.

I knew what was to come then. He wanted to kiss me. Well, he could dream as much as he wanted, but it wasn’t going to be anything other than that – a dream.

“Isn’t that uncomfortable?” He motioned with his eyes to my robe. His English was flawless; you could easily mistake him for a native English speaker, though he had a British accent. His hand that was touching my face made it to my collar and he fingered the slit that held the button in place, his eyes searching mine for permission to go on, really going on when I closed mine, refusing to meet his. Maybe he considered it just bashfulness, but it was nothing but me gathering the will to do what I wanted to do.

Once my robe fell to the floor, I raised my hand that held the blade-like piece and attempted to hurt the hand that was once more touching my neck. But before I was even close enough, his hand held my wrist and squeezed, tightly.

“What the hell?” He looked at my hand that he held firmly in his with wide eyes and shock dominating his beautiful features.

“Let go of me,’’ I screamed, tears streaming down my face. “Let go of me, you animal, I’ll never be yours, never! Over my dead body!”

The prince’s eyes widened even more at the sound of my words. It took him a few moments as he kept staring into my eyes, bright green into clear blue, confusion-filled into anger-consumed, before his other hand let go of my hand that he’d been holding all along. He yanked the broken piece out of my hand that he was gripping strongly, and threw it away then let go of both of my hands.

“Why did you agree to the marriage?” he said in a low-but-firm voice.

“I never agreed to this, my brother forced me, don’t you get it? I’d rather be dead and buried than be touched by your filthy Arabian hands!”

I thought anger would be the thing I’d see in his eyes when he heard what I’d said, but anger didn’t come until later. It was hurt that filled his eyes. Hurt.

I felt a slight tingle in my chest, right where my heart beat and my blood pumped out to my body. Something stung inside me when I saw him looking so wounded in front of me. I had no idea what that feeling was. I had no idea why would I feel that way for a perfect stranger, someone I would never like to even be seen with, at that.

The prince walked away from me, leaving me standing right in front of the bed, and then he sat down in one of the arm chairs across from me.

I watched him as he dropped his head and buried it in his hands, his form screaming: broken. I hated that he looked like that. I hated that I was the reason for it. I hated that I hated it. I knew I shouldn’t care, but I did.

A few minutes later, I sat down on the edge of the bed again, watching him as he sat with his shoulders hunched and his head bent down. I would’ve given up an arm to know what he was thinking at that moment.

I didn’t know what would I do from there, or what the prince would do after learning I didn’t want him, and it was – scary.

Minutes passed, and stretched into hours, hours passed as we sat like that, hardly ever moving. The music silenced at some point during the night, and the darkness faded and turned into the bright light of the morning shinning from the side window.