away from mine.
A very small smile found its way to my lips and drew itself on them, as I stared into the prince’s confident green gaze. He smiled back at me, but the smile died less than a moment later when I heard a door being opened behind me, pushing my own barely-existing smile away with it.
“Please, come in,” Mona’s voice called. I didn’t dare to turn around; I kept my eyes fixed on the prince’s eyes, the eyes which were no longer looking at me, but somewhere above my shoulder.
His gaze darkened, filling with anger, and a sneer appeared on his face. It scared me. His head was held high, and he stood tall, his posture changing from softness and tenderness to toughness and sharpness.
I found myself taking a half step back, as I kept my eyes staring at his rage- filled ones.
It confused me that his eyes softened again for a split second, before changing just as fast to shoot deadly glares at whoever was standing behind me.
“Prince Mazen.” My brother’s greeting made me take a step forward to the prince.
My chest ached.
“Marie.”
My heart swelled.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying my hardest to control the burning in my eyes as a new round of tears formed in them at the sound of Joseph’s voice.
Slowly, I turned around, finding myself moving to stand half-behind the prince and taking his hand in mine, using his tall frame to shield me from my brother.
My throat tightened.
My own actions confused me; I couldn’t understand how I could, always, find comfort and safety in the prince’s closeness. I wondered why I found the protection I craved right behind his body and why I took him, of all people, as a shield–and from my brother, at that.
Full of strange feelings and mixed emotions, my head was pounding already, and I’d yet to glance my brother’s way.
When I did glance at him, worry consumed me at first, seeing that my only remaining family sported a black eye. I held in a gasp when I reminded myself of what he had done, and how he didn’t deserve my worry. He didn’t worry about me, after all.
For a few moments, there were no words spoken, just glares from the prince, and panicked peeking from myself. Joseph, on the other hand, was completely ignoring him: his eyes were only looking at me, not moving, speaking silent words of things I didn’t want to think about. Maybe he looked remorseful about what he had done, but that didn’t fix anything. The only thing that would ever fix what he’d done was if he’d take me back home–and even then, it didn’t mean I’d forgive him. Not slightly easy to even think about it.
What made me even more upset was how he looked down at the prince’s and my joined hands, and then dared to smile sweetly while looking at me–as if he thought it meant that I’d magically fallen in love with the prince or something. Didn’t he know how messed up that situation was? How I was holding the prince’s hand only for protection because his actions made me fear him like I had never feared anyone before? Didn’t he know that he was the very first reason, the only reason why I was scared at all, or holding a stranger’s hand at all, seeking the safety that my brother couldn’t offer me, that my own brother took away from me, ripped away from me?
I wanted to scream at him, my fear turning into anger, but before I could say anything I heard a growl coming from the prince.
“Mona! Why didn’t you say that she was with him?”
It was only then that I noticed the form standing beside Joseph: Janna.
“I, uh, I–”
“Silence!” It was a yell that made me lose my grip on his hand.
It scared me.
“Get her out of my sight,” the prince commanded. This time his eyes were on Janna before he let go of my hand and turned around, facing away from her.
The next thing I knew, Janna was running towards us and kneeling to the floor right behind the prince. Her light green dress that was similar to mine wrapped her form in a circle of its soft material. She touched both of his legs, her head hanging down as she bowed, her tears flowing like rivers as she spoke words I couldn’t understand–but it didn’t take a genius to know that she was begging.
But for what?
I stood there gaping