Black Keys (The Colorblind Trilogy #1) - Rose B. Mashal Page 0,148

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.