Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) (8 page)

It was a knock on the door that made me aware of how scared I was, because I gasped loudly when I heard it, even though it wasn’t that strong of a knock, but a very soft one.

The prince stood up and went to the door, saying a word in Arabic that I didn’t understand. Mona replied with her name then he asked her something that she responded to in a quiet voice. His head turned in my direction and I saw anger flashing in his eyes as his nostrils flared, then he replied to her without moving his eyes away from mine.

The next thing I knew, he was taking off the thing on his head and setting it on the armchair. For a moment, I was mesmerized by his hair that I was seeing for the first time, a dark brown mess of locks that went in every direction when he released it from under that cover, locks that appeared to be so soft that my fingertips stupidly wanted to touch.

I woke up from my dazzled mind when he started unbuttoning the
thawb
he was wearing. Fear consumed me and filled every cell of my body as I saw him take it off and throw it to the floor as he took a step closer.

Wearing only a white wife-beater and white pants, he made his way to a huge serving dish of fruits that was placed beside a vase of roses on a round table in the middle of the room.

My eyes widened as I saw him take the knife that lay beside the fruit dish on the table. He took the few steps to where I was now standing by the edge of the bed, anger coming off of him in strong waves.

He’s going to kill me!

Oh, my God! I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

“No, no!” I shook my head frantically. “Please, don’t! No!” I begged.

When he was only an inch away I gripped his hand that held the knife, wanting to move it away from me, but he was so much stronger than me that I was barely able to move his hand.

I was just about to scream, when he placed his other hand over my mouth. I stumbled and fell to the bed, forcing him down with me.

Tears were pouring out of my eyes as I screamed into his hand and begged with my heart for God to make him let go of me. I didn’t want to die.

My heart almost stopped as he brought the knife near my face, and I was about to bite his hand when I saw that the knife didn’t stop when it was near me. Instead, it kept moving up until it was on the shoulder of the hand that was over my mouth.

My kicks stilled and my screams stopped, and my fear was replaced by confusion and shock as I watched him placing the blade on his shoulder, his eyes never leaving mine. He didn’t hiss or even flinch when the blade broke the skin where he pressed on it, blood escaping his freshly-cut wound.

With hate and venom lacing his voice he told me, “Don’t you even, for a split second, think that I’m interested in a
filthy
American who spreads her legs for the first man who takes her out for dinner.”

I wasn’t sure if the shock that was filling me had anything to do with the fact that he said he wasn’t interested in me in any way, that he had called me a filthy American, or the fact that he accused me of sleeping with the first guy who’d offer me dinner. I only knew that I was too shocked to move at all. I was like a limp noodle; I didn’t react with any objection when he pulled me up to my feet.

I think I was just grateful that I wasn’t dead. Yet.

Red rosebuds flew everywhere and all over the bed, as he yanked the bed sheets up and fisted them in his hand. He then brought them up to his shoulder and patted his wound a few times until he was satisfied with the smudge of blood that had now formed on the white sheets, and walked back to the door – but not before shooting me a disgusted look.

He opened the door just a little and gave the sheets to whom I assumed to be Mona, making sure that his wound was hidden behind the door as he stood by it.

I was beyond confused by the act. Why would he cut his arm that way to put blood on the sheets? Why was he asked to give over a sheet that had blood on it, anyway?

Then Joseph’s words came to my mind:
‘Blood for blood.’

It was virgin blood that was supposed to be on those sheets. He wanted to make them believe that the blood was just that. He had hurt himself to make them believe it was my virginity!

But, why? Why didn’t he just tell them the truth? Why would he want to cover up what really happened by lying to his family?

Lots of questions roamed around inside my head, but my thoughts were interrupted by the prince going into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

I glanced back at the door to the room, the thought of opening it and just running seemed so sweet in my mind, but I knew someone could be out there. I didn’t want to risk being caught without even beginning to really escape.

The prince came out of the bathroom, his wound now covered with a white bandage, his wife-beater gone. I had no idea why I looked at his chest, his tight muscles and perfect eight-pack abs. I swallowed thickly as I watched him moving around the room, a strange sensation going through me. Again, I wanted to believe it was fear, but I knew I couldn’t lie to myself about it for too long. It was a new feeling I wasn’t familiar with, and I had no idea if I really wanted to know what it was or not.

He put his
thawb
on and left the room without even glancing my way, the head thing in his hand.

I hadn’t noticed that I had been holding my breath, but when I heard the door being shut after him, I let out a big amount of air in a sigh of …
relief
, maybe.

Not a minute later, and before I could move an inch from my spot, the door was opened again after a knock, though I hadn’t given permission to its owner to come in.

Mona entered the room with a little box in her hand. She took one look at me and gasped, “Princess! You didn’t have to wear your dress again, all you had to do was just call my name.”

Maybe I was still shocked into not speaking after what the prince had said and done, because I didn’t reply. After a moment of silence she spoke again, “I’ll prepare the bath for you.”

“Uh, why the water is brown?” I asked as I looked with disgust at the tub filled with unclear water and no soap in it at all, not even a few bubbles.

“It’s herbs, Princess. It’ll help you relax your muscles and remove any soreness you might be feeling,” she explained.

Soreness?

Why would she thinks I’m so-

Oh!

I hopped into the tub, not very comfortable that I was naked in front of a stranger, but I noticed that she was avoiding looking at me until my body was completely under the water.

True to her words, the tension was leaving my body more and more as the minutes passed. It was very relaxing, especially since the ugly-looking herbs, surprisingly, smelled really good.

After the bath, I found that Mona had set out clothes for me. It was some sort of a dress but not really a dress; the end of it reached the floor and it was decorated in a way that was really breathtaking. It was love at first sight between me and the dress, as the golden color lining the dark red was just perfect. However, I still asked for my own clothes. I wasn’t going to wear them since I really liked the dress, but I still wanted to know where they were and why I wasn’t to wear them or pick out my own clothes.

“Just for the week, Princess. It’s a tradition,” Mona replied.

Well, I’m not staying here for the week, my dear. I’m flying home really soon.

The cloth felt wonderful against my skin, so soft despite all of the decorations on the front and the back; it was amazing.

I had to convince Mona that I could do my hair by myself, because she made a big deal out of it, saying it’d be disrespectful of her to let me do it myself, whatever that meant.

“Queen Shams will be with you shortly, Princess.”

“Okay,” I replied. “Wait, what?”

“Uh, the queen? A very short visit,” she nodded.

“Why is she visiting me?”

The prince told her!

Oh, my God!

She knows the blood is not mine and she’s coming to kill me! God! Oh, God!

“Tradition, Princess.” And she was gone.

It was a tradition for the queen to kill the new princess the day after the wedding?

“How are you doing,
Benty
?” Queen Shams asked once she was seated in the arm chair.

“Uh, I’m doing fine, thank you,” I said hesitantly as I eyed the box beside her, wondering if it had a weapon inside it.

She speaks English after all …

I tried not to think about the fact that she didn’t talk to me last night at the wedding, or the fact that I didn’t like the way she was looking at me.

“Glad to hear it,” she said, her voice not really giving away the reassurance that her words were.

We went into a very awkward silence, which I didn’t like just as much as I didn’t like her stare. There was something about that woman I just couldn’t bear. She was sending me huge waves of negative energy that were too much for my liking.

Our minutes of silence were over the second she huffed and shook her head. I frowned at her behavior but still said nothing. She then reached for the box that she’d brought with her and laid on the table in front of us, the same table I had signed my misery on, and stood up.

“This is for you,” she said as she looked down at me, her face blank.

I stood up, carefully taking the square-shaped box from her hand.

“Uh, thank you, Queen Shams,” I said politely.

“Mother,” she said, and I frowned at what ‘Mother’ meant, confused as to why she’d said that, then realizing right away that she meant for me to call her that. My eyes widened slightly. I knew in my heart that I’d never call anyone other than my own mother that name, let alone that woman standing in front of me.

I forced a smile, but that was all she was getting from me as a reply. She raised an eyebrow and I pretended to be busy admiring the box.

“Can I open it?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

A nod.

My eyes widened once again, but for a completely different reason. Laid upon the silk that filled the inside of the box was a necklace, designed to sit only on the collarbone, decorated with at least a hundred gemstones or so all over it, shaped into roses. Large and small diamond gemstones.