[Colorblind 01.0] Black Keys

by Rose B Mashal

  My lips were swelling and my nose was tingling from so much crying, my throat hurt from all of the screaming, and my body was so tired, heavy and aching from all of the struggling. Just the thought of what could’ve happened put my mind into a horrible frenzy.

  After what felt like hours, my tears were nothing but slow, lonely ones, few and far between. I was still in his arms, still clutching his clothes over his chest with a death grip, still wanting his closeness like never before.

  “I was so scared,” I whispered, then pressed my lips together to muffle the cries that were threatening to come out of them.

  “I know,” Mazen breathed. I could sense how he was boiling on the inside just from his tone; his control over his feelings still amazed me beyond words. “She has always respected the rules and the law, and she will be punished for her actions, because she had broken those rules and laws,” he added hardheartedly.

  I looked up at him in disbelief, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought that the glistening in his eyes was unshed tears. “Punished? The queen?”

  “Shhh, don’t think about anything right now, Princess,” he whispered, kissing my forehead.

  “I thought that… Oh, God!” I started crying all over again, but this time I went hysterical just thinking of all of the possibilities and all of the ‘what ifs.’ Mazen tried his best, pulling my hand away from his clothes and putting it over my chest, over my cross, giving me any and every way he knew would help calm me down.

  “It’s okay, Princess, it’s okay,” Mazen shushed me. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe. Always.”

  I held my cross, but with the same hand, I clutched his clothes again. I was simply not capable of letting him go, not even an inch. Mazen started whispering things in my ear, soft words that I think rhymed with each other but wasn’t really sure, as they were in Arabic. It reminded me of the words the Queen Mother had whispered while moving her hand over my hair the first time I met her: the words that Mazen had explained to be from their holy book, verses that were meant to protect me from the evil eye. And I hoped those words that Mazen were whispering were meant to protect me from evil hands–if any.

  My cries started to settle down again, as I listened to him while he whispered the quiet words in my ear, and with my cross in my hand I started whispering my own prayer, ‘Now I lay me down to sleep; I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake. I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take; And this I ask for Jesus’ sake.’

  My head was heavy and when I felt sleepiness start to approach, I welcomed it with open arms. What felt like a short time later, I sensed Mazen pulling away. My head was no longer on his chest but on a pillow, though I still had the front of his thawb fisted in my hand. Without opening my eyes, I pulled him to me again, refusing to let him leave the bed, refusing to let him leave me. I only drifted back to sleep when he held me to him again and I knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

  I woke up, startled at the sound of glass breaking, sitting up on the bed and searching the dimly lit room with my eyes for the source of the sound, only to find Mona by my side right away. Before she could say anything, I asked her, “Where’s Mazen?”

  Before she could reply, I heard more glasses being smashed, and then heard Mazen as he yelled in agony. It sounded as if he was being tortured and the sound just broke me.

  “Oh, my God! What’s going on? What’s wrong with him?” I was about to get out of bed when Mona stopped me.

  “Let him be, Benty, he needs this,” she spoke quietly, her cheeks bearing the signs of abuse and the tears of a broken heart.

  “Needs what?” I asked with wide eyes, my throat aching and my heart thumping in my chest. I listened to more glass crashing and more shrieking that wasn’t even words, but more like howls of pain and hurt.

  “To let his anger out, he’s seriously livid,” she said, and my shoulders hunched–understanding, but not knowing what to do and hating to hear how hurt and angry he was.

  Mona poured a cup of something that looked like green tea from a pot that was on the nightstand beside me, then handed it to me. “Please drink this, Princess.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just something to help you relax: herbs, some chamomile and peppermint,” she said. I seriously needed something to ease the throbbing in my throat, so I took it without argument. All I could say about it was that it was warm. I didn’t know what it tasted like, or if it was bitter or sweet, because my heart and my thoughts and all of my senses were with the breaking glass that we could hear every once in a while, and the shouted pain that made feel like someone was stabbing my chest.

  I listened to Mona and let him be, even if everything in me told me to go to him and hug him tightly, to lose myself in his arms, because God knows how much I needed it. After a while, I drifted back to sleep again, not knowing if it was the herbs or just my body being too exhausted to stay awake.

  The next time when I woke up, the room was pitch black, the only light coming from a small lamp in the corner of the room, right above where the prince sat, taking a position that looked all too similar to the pose he’d taken on the wedding night: head buried between his hands and shoulders hunched down, all miserable and depressed.

  “Mazen?”

  At the sound of my voice, he looked at me, then stood up and lit up the room, making his way to the bed as my eyes adjusted to the light.

  “Hey,” he smiled softly, the smile not even close to reaching his eyes, telling me that he only drew it on his lips for my sake. He bent down and kissed my head. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m okay,” I said, because he was close; of course I’d be okay as long as he stayed near. “Did you change?” I asked. His thawb was a bit different, and there were no traces of any wrinkles where I had fisted it for hours earlier. I wondered why he was all dressed up like that, unless he was…going out. Again?

  Panic started rising inside of me, but I tried my best to convince myself that he wouldn’t do that to me, not again, not after everything that had happened–I was sure. Still, I waited for his confirmation. He’d taught me that assuming and judging made things darker and harder to understand than when you searched for an answer or an explanation directly.

  “Yes, Princess,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing me.

  “What for?”

  He didn’t reply right away, only moved his hand through his hair, seemingly as if he was trying really hard to figure out how he was going to reply to me. “I– uh...I arranged your flight back to the States,” he said, pressing his lips into a tight line, barely looking into my eyes.

  “What?” I asked in shock. “What do you mean back to the States?”

  “You’re going home, Princess.” He offered me another small smile that you could barely see, even while staring at him.

  Home!

  I felt my chest swelling at the thought, not sure if it was in happiness or sadness, and that alone was enough to confuse the heck out of me.

  “Home? Tonight?”

  He nodded.

  “But what about our deal? We agreed I’d stay for six months, for Janna’s sake,” I reminded him, though doubting he’d forgotten about that.

  “I came up with something. Don’t worry yourself about that, Beautiful Princess,” he tried to smile. “We will leave once you’re ready.” He got up, but before he could go anywhere, I got out of bed and stopped him, noticing that I was back in my sweatpants, though I had no idea how I’d gotten them back on, but not really caring either.

  “You’ll come with me?” I asked. After all, he’d said ‘We.’

  “Yes, Princess, I’ll accompany you to the airport,” he replied, not turning back to look at me.

  Oh!

  “That’s all?” I whispered my question. Was he really going to send me back home that way? Just like that? That simple? He came up with something and that was it?

  “If there’s anything you need, just say the word, Princess,”
he said.

  You.

  I need you.

  “So, you’re just shipping me back home only six days after the wedding. You’re saying that you came up with something, and not to worry myself. What could I possibly need?” I said with hurt in my voice. “You have everything set,” my voice cracked.

  “Isn’t that what you want, Princess?”

  “How could you even ask that?” My eyes welled up with tears. “After yesterday and the wonderful time we spent together, how could you think I’d still want to leave?”

  I heard him sucking in a breath. “Because after what happened this afternoon, you couldn’t possibly still want to stay, if ever.”

  “But I’m fine,” I argued. “Something bad was going to happen but it didn’t, and you saved me. It’s over. Why are you dwelling on it?”

  “Because I won’t always be by your side, Princess,” he said. “You’re safer in your own country.”

  But I’m safer with you.

  “Yeah,” I said, my tears already falling all over again, “but did you even stop to think about how I would feel about it?”

  He didn’t reply, and after a pause of silence, I nodded to myself. “Maybe you’re right, maybe I should go home. I’m just sorry it’s so easy for you to send me back home like that, after yesterday. I thought it meant something to you, but I really was mistaken.”

  It was then he turned to face me, and in a split second he was right in front of me, his hands cupping my face and his eyes locked with mine. “Don’t,” he whispered, his face all pain, hurt and sadness. “Don’t go there, Beautiful Princess.” He shook his head. “It meant more to me than you could ever imagine.”

  “Then why?” I whispered back, my tears blurring my vision. “Why are you sending me off? Why?”

  “You’re not safe here, you have to go home.”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted.

  “You’re far from it,” he said. “Just look at you, look at what’s happened to you since you came here. You’ve lost weight, you’ve cried every single day–several times–you were insulted and pushed around, you’ve had two death threats and you almost faced something they call ‘Common Deflowering’–while I call it ‘Gang Rape’.” He pressed his lips together hard. “Do you have any idea how all of this is hurting me? It’s killing me, Princess, killing me!”

  I put my hands over his wrists while he still had his holding my face. “Then let me stay, let everything go as planned,” I told him. “I’ll spend those six months here, and it’s going to be okay.”

  “You can’t know that, Princess,” he said. “I told you: royalty is a dirty game. Everyone is lusting after the throne and searching for ways to get themselves closer to it–it’s sickening. I’ve had my food poisoned twice and my brother has been shot just an inch from his heart, my father faced an assassination attempt against him, and my mother has gone crazy with her obsession to make my life perfect, to be the perfect king for decades to come. And don’t even get me started on my uncle and cousin.” His eyes begged me to understand.

  “I can’t risk anyone hurting you anymore to get to me or my father like Jasem did. He only made a scene thinking the shock would kill my father with his weak heart and bad condition. I thank God it turned out okay, but I don’t know what will happen in the future. I’m not willing to wait and see, only to end up with something even worse happening to you within those six months.”

  His words were convincing, but...there must be some way. “It couldn’t go worse,” I tried.

  “Stop it, Princess!” he said softly. “You don’t understand. This,” his thumbs brushed away my tears, “is hurting me more than I can explain; your tears are too precious to me.” He whispered, “Do you have any idea how I felt when the first time I heard those beautiful lips calling my name was in terror and fear, crying for help?” He touched his forehead to mine. “It gutted me, Beautiful Princess. Gutted me.”

  My tears flowed in silence. I didn’t know what to say to him; I was choking. There was so much I wanted to say, and at the same time, I had no idea how to put my feelings into words. I had no idea what to say.

  “Mazen,” I whispered.

  “Princess. My Beautiful Princess,” he whispered, his lips touching my forehead for a moment too long and too short at the same time. When I looked into his eyes, I saw the tears rolling down from them.

  “You’re crying,” I choked out, reaching up to touch his tears, just learning in that moment what precious tears really meant as I saw his.

  “How could I not, Beautiful Princess?” He asked, “Do you feel this?” He took my hand that was touching his face and put it over his chest, right above where his heart was. “It’s bleeding,” he told me, his teary eyes looking deep into my matching ones, before he pulled my head to his chest, my ear replacing where my hand was just a moment ago. “Do you hear it?” he asked. “It’s breaking,” he told me, and I couldn’t control myself as I hugged him and cried for the loss of someone who wasn’t even mine.

  “It’s not even slightly easy for me, Princess, but I have to let you go.”

  No, no! Please, no! Let me stay, let me!

  We hugged until our legs almost gave out, we cried until there was no place on our faces that tears didn’t stain, and we hated our fates until there was no way to hate them even more.

  “Can’t you come with me?”

  Please, please, please!

  “I wish I could,” he said sincerely, “but I have a duty here, responsibilities I can’t get away from.”

  I nodded in understanding, but not in acceptance.

  “I wish you could,” I told him honestly, hot tears wetting my cheeks, a pleading look in my eyes.

  “Maybe in another life, Princess,” he smiled sadly, “when it wouldn’t be too dangerous to be with me, and only safer away from me.” His voice broke.

  I hugged him tightly. “I’ve never been safer than when I’m with you.”

  “But I can’t always be by your side,” he reminded me with the same words again. Words I hated so much, it wasn’t describable.

  “So, that’s it?” I asked. “We get a divorce now?”

  “We were never married in the first place, Princess,” he stated.

  I pulled away and looked at him with a frown and tearful eyes. “What?”

  “On paper, yes, but not in front of God,” he said. “You were forced, and in my religion, that’s a deal breaker.”

  I looked at him for a moment, trying to understand.

  “But just to make sure,” he said, looking at me for a moment, then said two words in Arabic, sounding as if it stung his tongue to say them. “You’re divorced, Princess.” Tears glistened in his eyes again.

  I smiled sadly through my tears and nodded. “You can stop calling me Princess now.”

  He shook his head. “I never called you ‘Princess’ because it was your title, Princess.”

  And that caused more tears to come. His lips kissed my tears away, and then he pressed his cheek to mine and whispered, “I’ve never yelled at my mother until she wanted to hurt you. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone until someone treated you with disrespect. I never knew what falling for someone truly was until you came into my life.”

  “Falling?” I gasped.

  “So hard, Princess,” he said, pulling back the slightest bit to look into my eyes. “Can’t you tell?”

  I replied to him by pressing my lips to his. I kissed him hard. I kissed him ‘don’t let go.’ I kissed him ‘let me stay.’ And I kissed him ‘please, understand.’

  He kissed me back, just as hard, just as passionately, but he kissed me ‘I’m sorry.’ And he kissed me ‘I have to let you go.’

  We kissed ‘Goodbye.’ Because it was our only option. A choice forced upon us.

  Saying goodbye to Mona was more emotional than I’d expected, I hugged her for a long time, and we both cried heavily.

  “Take care of yourself, Benty,” she said through her tears.

  “You�
�ve yet to tell me what that word means, Mona,” I smiled sadly, my own tears rolling down my cheeks, feeling how much I was going to miss her already, this woman who held a place in my heart I’d never thought she would own.

  “It means ‘My child…My daughter’,” she replied with a sad smile of her own, and it was too much for me not to hug her again and cry some more.

  When I asked to visit the Queen Mother before I left, I was welcomed with open arms, kisses and more prayers which, even though I couldn’t understand, warmed my heart to the highest point.

  Prince Fahd was waiting by the main entrance of the palace. He wished me a safe flight, and I asked him to take good care of Hope and Faith; I wasn’t going to take them away from their mother. He then assured me that he’d have the best people looking after the branch office until I decided what I would do with it, telling me that Princess Huda had been taking care of it for the past two weeks and would do it for as long as I wished. I didn’t even know she was doing that, though I was grateful.

  I sent the king my goodbyes and best wishes with Prince Fahd, wishing I could tell him so myself, but too afraid because I didn’t know if I would meet the queen there or not. She certainly wasn’t someone I wanted to see...ever again.

  “Are you ready, Princess?” Mazen asked softly.

  Not at all.

  I nodded, despite myself, and Mazen put one hand under my thighs and the other around my back, carrying me bridal style, and then walked us out the door as I buried my head into his chest and breathed him in.

  “The third day after the wedding my whole family came to visit you as the traditions say,” Mazen had told me when I asked what had he come up with to explain my departure from the kingdom to his people. “I told them you couldn’t meet with them because you were sick. Now I’ll tell them you got even sicker when you left the wing to visit Princess Rosanna after we thought you’d gotten better. Since then we’ve been trying different medications on you but nothing has helped, so we had to go visit your doctor in the States.”