was like everything else in the kingdom: magnificent. But the beauty of it was as pitch black as the sky I was staring at. Beautiful but scary. Beautiful but dark. All dark. The shining, small diamonds were like those who could be nice and kind, even though they were part of it, but…they were lost in a sea of darkness, anyway. And the darkness would always be their roots, their home. And I wasn’t going to let their beauty or niceness fool me.
The prince was as beautiful as anyone could imagine and more. He had the most handsome face I’d ever seen, the most attractive looks, he was nice to me, he promised me safety and protection, but…the name Salma was mentioned and, BANG–he was gone. No explanations. No excuses. Just that. Gone.
The name wouldn’t leave my head. Salma. The way the prince gasped it, like…like he was dead and someone had brought his soul back to him. Like he wasn’t breathing and someone had just given him air. It was sickening. The way he ran out of the room at the mention of her name looked sickening to my eyes. And I was mad. At him, and at myself.
I was mad at him for leaving me like that, without taking a minute to tell me where he was going or for what; it was disrespectful and…rude. He wasn’t supposed to leave the room, so why would he now? And without even bothering to explain? Yeah, I was beyond mad at him.
I was mad at myself for being mad at him, because I shouldn’t be. It wasn’t right. I shouldn’t be mad. Being mad meant that I cared, which I didn’t. I didn’t care for him. I was sure… Yes, I was sure. It was just crazy. Why would I care about him? He was a stranger; I barely knew him. Maybe he was my husband, but I had no idea what he was like. If it wasn’t for the fact that his family was royal and ruled this kingdom, I wouldn’t even know what his last name was.
Shining, small diamond, though pretty and nice, left the room once Salma was mentioned. Because the darkness of its home was what was inside of it. Shining little stars were nothing but balls of boiling fire. You could not be near one and you should not touch. You’ll get burnt. Smart people knew better. Smart people knew the truth of things from the inside, no matter how good it looked from the outside. And I wasn’t a fool.
Salma.
Who was Salma?
I had no idea. I only knew that it was a girl’s name. Who she was, or what the relationship was between the prince and her was a big mystery to me. My heart–for some reason–wanted to plant the idea in my head that she was his sister. But I knew he only had one brother and one sister, and that was it. Salma couldn’t be his sister. My mind kept wondering if she was that cousin he was supposed to marry before I was forced on him by our circumstances. But Salma wasn’t her name; it was Tala or Tina or whatever, something like that. I was sure it wasn’t Salma.
Who the heck is Salma?
I huffed and squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my forehead with my left hand as I laid my aching head on the back of the swing. The thoughts and the questions were making my head pound and throb. It was really maddening. The only comfort I found came from my silver cross that was touching my cheek softly as it dangled from my wrist, reminding me that God was with me and that I should shrug the bad feelings away.
Salma.
Who are you? Relative? Friend? Cousin? …Lover?
I sighed in annoyance and got up, pacing the sunroom back and forth while playing with my wedding rings one way and cracking my knuckles one at a time in frustration the other.
My eyes caught something hidden among the decorations on the back wall that looked like a knob–the kind of secret knob that surrounded the walls of the bedroom–and I knew then that this was the hidden door in the sunroom. It wasn’t curiosity that made me go over there and put my hand on it, ready to turn it. It was pure boredom, and the fact that I wanted to do anything to pull me out of my thoughts and distract me from thinking of why I was feeling those stupid