Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) - Rose B. Mashal Page 0,107
need to know everything that happened from the minute you left the wing until you were brought here to this room,” he said sternly, a tone he’d never used while talking to me before, “In detail.”
I guess the nice Prince Charming is gone.
When I think of that day Joseph entered my office and announced his plans for marriage, I see a changing point in my life. A major one.
You’d think my changing point would be my wedding day, the night my brother put a gun to my head–but no, it was when my brother told me it was an Arab Muslim he was going to marry. Because that day, I swallowed everything I wanted to say. Kept it in. And stayed silent. Maybe I told him a thing or two to show my objection, but I still accepted it. Eventually.
It had been the same since then. Only gotten worse. My old self was dying one day at a time.
The old me always stood strong, spoke up and took no garbage from anyone. My old self used to scare people with a raised eyebrow, make fully grown men’s legs shake with a long stare if they did something I didn’t like, or if something wasn’t as I had asked. My old self would give orders and things would get done the next minute. But now…I was far from that.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I’d be treated this way: forced to sign papers I didn’t want to sign, ordered to obey traditions I’d never believed in, always scared for my life, pushed around and humiliated, and then teased and burnt with jealousy for someone I didn’t even love.
It wasn’t me.
It was like a nightmare that seemed to be endless. I was becoming someone I didn’t know, someone I wouldn’t even like to be friends with. Someone weak and scared all the time, to the point it was pathetic. It disgusted me.
Being my new me, I replied to the prince with nothing. Stayed silent because it had become what I did best.
The prince didn’t like it: it showed on his face when I looked in his eyes with my tear-filled ones. I wanted to reply; there was nothing left to hide. But I couldn’t–maybe he didn’t know about Janna helping me? Maybe I could still save her from being punished? Maybe she had already found her way out of the palace? But, no. It was impossible that he didn’t know she’d helped. Surely, Mona had told him what Janna had ordered her to do. He knew, there was no question. But–what more was there to tell, why would he need details?
I heard the prince inhaling deeply, then letting go of his breath slowly, his eyes not as soft as I always remembered them to be. They looked very similar to the time he’d told me I was a filthy American. Just hard and unkind, unlike him.
“You must be aware that your life is in danger,” he said through clenched teeth. “I need to know what happened,” he repeated, emphasizing the word ‘need.’
I swallowed audibly, still not knowing what I should say, but then thought that nothing could ever put me in a deeper mess than I was already in, so I talked. I told him. Everything, just like he’d asked.
Just a few words in, he turned his back to me, gazing away, at what I didn’t know. I didn’t stop talking, though I was completely devastated by the fact that I couldn’t see his face and study his reaction to my words. But then I thought that I’d already seen him hurt enough; seeing him even more hurt than now wouldn’t be such a great sight to behold. Since I couldn’t see his face, I stared deeply at what I could see. Closely.
His tensed shoulders told me of his upset, and his clenched fists told me of his anger. But the movement of his fingers through his hair when I was finished told me that he was really frustrated. It didn’t surprise me. I would be frustrated with me if I were him. Heck, I was frustrated with me.
The prince stayed silent for a minute or two after I finished talking, seeming deep in thought, and I would’ve paid anything to know what was inside of his head.
“All right,” it came out of him in a whoosh of breath, “Now we’ll go to my parents’ room. Follow me, please,” he said without looking in my direction, and simply did