Black Keys Chapter 8

(SM) owns Twilight .

(CozItRunsInMyBlood) owns the plot.

(RobzBeanie) is a lifesaver and she beta this.

(GrandeDame) is my soul-mate and per-reader.

Chapter 8

Isabella Marie

It's human nature. When you're starving, you eat. When you're thirsty, you drink. When you find something really beautiful you’d like to own … you touch.

It's human nature. It was my answer, my excuse to myself when my hand, of its own accord, moved to touch the prince's face – his cheek. It was the spot right under his left eye, an inch above the hairline of his stubbly beard – his cheekbone. It looked so soft, so tender, but not in an out-of-place kind of way – no, it looked perfect, even on such a strong, powerful man.

'It's human nature' was the story I told myself to keep from freaking out by admitting that I was feeling something wrong, something I shouldn't be feeling, something that just wasn't right. I knew I was falling into a trap that was set for me to fall into, but I was stronger than that. I shouldn't fall, I wouldn't fall.

'It's human nature' I believed.

 'It's nothing' I convinced myself.

'Just curiosity' I promised.

'Nothing is wrong' I lied.

There was just something about finding him sleeping so peacefully beside me that made my heart swell. A feeling of something strange snapped inside of me, and I couldn't deny I enjoyed the sight, nor that I questioned my sanity for enjoying it. I mean, the guy was dangerous, I just knew he was, and if we looked at it from a different side, it'd look like I had been kidnapped. And even though he wasn't the one to kidnap me, he still kept me trapped in here even after he knew I didn't like it. I should fear him more, try to escape faster, not try to touch him and wonder about my feelings while looking at the beauty of his features!

I was losing my mind, and I needed to get it together.

When I was putting my hand back to where it had been, I noticed something that I wasn't aware of before: my arm was bare. After a quick glance under the covers, I realized that I wasn't in the clothes I had been wearing earlier – I was in a nightgown.

My breath hitched, and my chest rose and fell rapidly with it. My heart beat so fast, it felt like it was going to bust out of my chest. My throat went dry as I breathed mostly through my mouth and not my nose. My head was spinning, playing scenarios of the prince and what he had done, along with how I was put into that gown that was too flashy for my liking. All of the scenes in my head were bad, ugly, and made the tears tingle in my eyes.

I sat up quickly, my head spinning even more at my sudden movement, holding the thin cover that was already over my body up to my neck as fear consumed my every thought.

The mattress shifting underneath me must've woken the prince, because at the very next second he sat up on the bed, too, and faced me. When my panicked eyes moved to meet his, I saw relief filling them.

"You're awake! Alhamdulilah! Alhamdulilah!" he said.

I gripped the cover tighter to my chest. "What did you do to me?" I choked out, tears streaming down my cheeks, terror filling my heart.

Did he drug me?

Did he undress me?

Did he rape me?

God! Oh, God!

I felt dizzy, sick to my stomach, an ache in my chest. I was so scared, so, so scared.

"What?"

"What did you do to me?" My voice was broken, heart bleeding.

He just stared at me, confusion covering his features, and a frown deepened on his forehead.

"Did you drug me? Was it in the food? Of course it was. That's why you didn't eat!"

His features changed from confusion to shock and then to anger – the same shade of fury I’d seen the morning following the wedding.

After a few moments of staring, his eyes angry and mine terrified, he screamed, "Mona!" startling me. And in seconds, she was knocking and opening the door right after.

"See if the princess needs anything," he said as he got up and disappeared inside the sunroom, closing the glass doors behind him, anger seeping out of him in waves.

"I'm glad to see you awake, Princess." Did she know I was drugged, too?! "How do you feel?" she asked.

"W-what happened to me?" I asked. Maybe she knew the answer to that, as well.

"You were really sick; you scared us," was her answer.

Us?

"Sick?"

"Yes, Princess. You had a fever. It's because you slept for hours in the sunroom. Your body was warm still from the shower, I guess, and the sunroom gets really chilly every now and then when the windows open automatically to let the plants breathe," she explained.

Oh!

Oohh!

Fever? I wasn't drugged? Was the food poisoned? The queen could've poisoned it. But no, I was really sleepy, I was tired. And she wouldn't risk her son eating it.

"Who put me in this?" I pointed to the gown.

Mona frowned. "You did, Princess. Yesterday, after the bath."

"No, I didn't. I only wore the dress you gave me!" Does she think I'm a fool?

"Yes, but the gown is attached to it; you wore them together. The dress is designed to be easily taken off without the gown if needed." she said, and it was my turn to frown. "Here, let me show you." She went to where the dress was placed on a clothes hanger, in the corner next to the window. She showed me how the dress had hidden buttons in the middle of it between all of the decorations. From the top and all the way down, it opened like a rope if you unbuttoned them all, and the gown was attached to it from strips on the insides of the shoulders of the dress.

I assumed it was only a layer of cloth when I wore it, I thought.

"Who undressed me?"

"I did. It wasn't comfortable to sleep in the dress."

It wasn't the prince! He didn't do anything wrong. The thoughts made me hang my head in shame at what I had accused him of.

Mona must've taken my reaction to be shyness or embarrassment because she continued, "Don't worry, Princess. It was only the prince and me in the room, no strangers," she assured me.

I just nodded, then touched my forehead with my hand and rubbed it, feeling the pounding in my head getting stronger. I had no idea if it was caused by the fever or the shame I felt for my actions towards the prince.

"What do you say about me preparing a bath for you?" she suggested.

"What time is it anyway?"

"It's almost four in the morning."

Whoa! I slept for almost twenty hours?!

"I hope we didn't disturb you," I apologized, sure she was sleeping.

"Not at all, it's my job. I was already awake since praying time should be soon."

"Alright, but I'm just going to take a shower, no need for filling the tub."

"As you wish," she said with a smile and then disappeared into the bathroom.

I got up slowly, taking the dress and putting it loosely over my shoulders, then gazing out the window absently for the few moments that Mona took doing whatever in the bathroom.

I felt so bad for what I had said to the prince, but then I thought I shouldn't be so down – he knew I was sick and didn't even bother to call a doctor for me. He even lay in the bed beside me without my permission; I would've never agreed if I was conscious.

"Call me if you need anything," Mona repeated her familiar words, leaving me to shower.

~BK~

"How did you guys know what size I wear?" I asked as Mona handed me yet another dress to wear. This one was dark blue, but very similar to the red one because of the golden decorations and the chiffon layers and all.

"Mr. Jaser told Princess Alica that you were almost the same size; she did all of the shopping. As for the underwear and lingerie, she bought different sizes, and I chose the ones I thought would fit. Are they alright?"

"Yeah, it's perfect. Thank you," I replied, trying to hide the sorrow that I felt in my heart at the mention of my brother's name – the name she couldn't say correctly, at that.

It hurt so bad to know more of how much he had planned this – how it was so easy for him to get me here, how he told others about my size and tastes, knowing that I'd be staying here until I die.

I felt the tears welling in my eyes, but I shrugged them away. He wasn't worthy of my tears, but it just saddened me beyond words every time I learned more about how far he had gone with his betrayal.

When I was finished with dressing, I let Mona do her thing with my hair without objecting. It seemed to please her to be able to do her 'job,' and to be honest, I was feeling so tired, and it was such a nice treat to have someone blow drying my hair for me and then brushing it.

In the reflection in the mirror that was attached to the dresser I was sitting in front of, I saw Mona smiling – but to herself, not to me – as she brushed my hair. I smiled politely when her eyes caught mine, but we didn't say anything.

"We were so worried about you, Princess," she said as she ran the brush through my blond locks.

"We?" I asked.

"The prince and I," she told me, and when I didn't reply she went on, "You were unconscious, and I was barely able to feed you the drink I’d made of the healing herbs, but given that your fever broke within the hour, I guess you had enough to make it work."

He was worried about me?

"Uh, thank you."

"Not at all, Princess." She again smiled that smile she had before. "Prince Mazen was so worried, he stayed up almost all night, replacing the towels we put over your head. He wouldn't allow me to do it."

He stayed up all night?

"Seeing how you were affected by his closeness and how it comforted you even when you were passed out was such a sight to behold. I'm so glad you’ve grown so fond of each other so fast."

Oh!

Was he the one who brushed my tears away?

Was the hand that soothed me his own?

I was comforted by his closeness? The thought startled me. But soon, I was sighing at the realization that I’d known I was pleased with his closeness the second I woke up to his face.

What's going on with me?

What's happening inside of my heart?

What's going on inside of my head?

"Here, all set," Mona smiled. "You look so beautiful."

"Thank you, Mona," I smiled back.

She touched my forehead with her hand and her smile grew. "The fever is all gone, Alhamdulilah,"

"Yeah."

"Do you need anything?" she asked.

"No, thank you," I replied, then stopped her when she was about to turn around. "Wait! Uh, what does that word mean?"

"Which word? Alhamdulilah?"

I nodded.

"It means 'Praise the Lord' or 'Thanks to Allah'," she told me.

"Allah?"

"It's God's name."

"You're awake! Alhamdulilah! Alhamdulilah!" The prince's words rang in my ears.

He thanked God that I was well!

Did he care for me?

Why the heck did I care?!

I was startled from my thoughts by the sound of knocking on glass. I looked to see Mona knocking on the mirror that separated the sunroom from the bedroom. I didn't even realize she had walked away, too caught up in my thoughts. She then opened the door and looked inside, saying something in Arabic that sounded like a question. She nodded after a moment and then opened another hidden door that I’d thought was part of the wall and went inside, coming out after a few moments with folded clothes in her hands before disappearing into the bathroom once more.

Was that a walk-in closet?

I watched Mona as she left after telling the prince what I supposed was that the bathroom was ready for his shower. I wondered briefly if she was going to come back and help him get dressed, too. But then I shrugged the thought away – it was silly.

The prince didn't glance my way as he made his way to the bathroom.

I stood up and went to gaze out of the window again. I stayed there not knowing what to do with myself, wondering if I should apologize to the prince when he came out, knowing that I had to. I'd already hurt him with so many words, on so many different occasions.

No longer than ten minutes later, the prince came out, dressed in another pair of black sweatpants and a grey shirt, looking all fresh and clean with his damp hair and handsome face.

My heart beat fast when he walked in my direction, anger no longer present in his eyes.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked, his voice soft and comforting.

"I'm feeling okay, thank you for asking," I replied, knowing that it was the first polite words I'd ever said to him. It made me sad and embarrassed at the same time, because he'd yet to show me any sign of rudeness.

He called you a filthy American.

I pushed the whisper in my head away. He had apologized for that, and I’d forced him into saying it by my own hurtful words.

He offered me a small smile. "Did you have any trouble with your stomach before?"

Huh?

"Sorry?"

"Your stomach. You had a fever when you were exposed to the cold weather, but you're not coughing or having a runny nose or so on. I believe that you have a sensitive stomach, and that's why you couldn't handle the sudden change of the weather, especially after having a hot drink," he said.

"Uh, I’ve always had an ache in my stomach every now and then," I replied, confused as to how he knew of those things, or why he was asking about it.

"Did you mostly feel it after you ate fried foods or had been very hungry or very full?"

I nodded, blinking rapidly.

"Like I suspected," he stated. "I could prescribe you something to help you in the long term; I'm not convinced of the healing herbs. It might remove the symptoms, but it doesn't cure the illness like medications do."

"Wait. Prescribe me something? Is that okay for anyone to do that here?"

Or is it because he's a prince?

"It is okay for any doctor to do that, yes."

"Wait, wait, wait! You're a doctor?!"

"Yes. I'm a doctor." He smiled softly. "I guess your brother failed to tell you about that, too, huh?" It wasn't really a question, and his smile disappeared.

I looked down, sadness consuming me once again at the mention of my brother. But then my thoughts traveled to think about the prince and how I knew so little of him, not knowing why I had to voice it. "I don't know so much about you," I admitted.

He sighed. "We can fix that, Princess. I mean, if you'd like it, of course."

I nodded.

"You don't know so much about me, either," I said.

"True. I'd like to fix that, as well."

I nodded again. "I'd like that."

He smiled, excusing himself for a second. I watched him open the drawer of his nightstand, coming back with a small box in his hand.

"I was supposed to give you this on our wedding night, but … uh, I never got the chance." He opened the box for me to see. My eyes widened at the sight of the two sets of diamond rings and a white-gold wedding band that sat there. They looked so beautiful.

 

"They are really beautiful," I told him, my eyes fixed on the box held up for me.

"Thank you." He smiled. "Would you put them on? I don't want anyone wondering. We're lucky my mother didn't notice."

I nodded, offering him my hand because I wanted him to do it. No clue why.

His eyes questioned mine if I was sure, finding the answer in the first genuine smile my lips had drawn since my brother left me alone in this very room.

The prince's smile grew wider, showing his pearly whites and the glow in his eyes. He took the rings and the band out of the box and placed them on the window sill beside us.

He took my hand in his and put the wedding band then the rings on one after another, his eyes bouncing up and down between the task in his hand and my eyes, the smile never leaving his face.

He didn't let go of my hand when he was done.

I didn't mind.

"The first thing I need you to know about me," he started. "I would never, ever, harm you in any way."

~BK~