Black Keys - Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Isabella Marie

Mona actually grinned for the first time since what seemed like a long time ago at my statement about going to the prince with his tea, and then nodded. She prepared the smaller tray that held the teapot and a cup with a plate of English cake, while I fixed my hair and took a look in the mirror to see how wrinkled my blue short-sleeved shirt and navy sweatpants were. They looked fine.

"Shall I put your coffee with it, Princess?" she asked.

"Yes, please," I smiled, and she added another elegant cup with the coffee pot to the tray.

Mona carried the tray and was about to take it to the prince herself, I imagined, thinking that I'd be following, but I stopped her.

"Please, let me," I said kindly.

"But, Princess–"

"C'mon, Mona, I'm not that spoiled, I know how to carry a tray," I smiled.

She smiled back. "Alright, let me open the door for you." After handing me the tray, she opened the secret door and held it open it for me as I went inside, mouthing a 'Thank you' to her. She replied with a smile and a nod before she closed it again.

The prince wasn't sitting on the armchair I'd seen him sitting on last night. I searched for him with my eyes only to find him standing in front of a large window which dominated one of the side walls of the living room.

I set the tray on a table near him, the tray making a noise when it touched the glass on the table that there was no way he hadn't heard, yet – he didn't move at all, seemingly deep in thought.

I cleared my throat, but it was no use. I thought it would be better to just pour him that cup of tea, and so I did, then asked, "How many sugar cubes?" my voice soft and my tone calm.

It was then that the prince turned his head to look in my direction. His eyes didn't hold the same amount of emotions I'd seen in them about six hours ago. They now held sadness most of all, more than I’d seen in any sad eyes before – and I'd seen a lot. It made me sad myself, but I kept my soft smile in place as I kept my eyes locked on his greens.

The prince didn't reply to me. He looked back out the window for a second, sighed, then turned around and took the two or three steps that separated us and picked up two cubes, putting them in the cup before swirling it with a teaspoon. Then he took his cup of tea and moved back to where he’d been standing a minute ago. No words. At all.

Oh-kay …

I pressed my lips together, disappointed that he seemed to not really want to talk to me, but I wasn't going to give up so soon – I really wanted to talk to him.

I poured myself my own cup of coffee, picked it up and went to stand beside him. Out of the window, I was able to see a part of our bedroom window, and when I looked down, it was the beautiful garden I’d grown to like a lot; its bright green was almost the same as the prince's beautiful eyes.

"Uh … is it okay for me to drink coffee, Doc?" I smiled, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. "I feel fine."

"You answered for yourself," he said sternly, not even glancing my way, and then sipped his tea.

Ouch!

I shook my head slightly, but didn't comment, trying to act as if it wasn't so obvious that he wasn't fond of my presence. I took a sip of my hot coffee and gazed at the sight in front of me, though I wasn't really enjoying it, not with what was going on around me. Um … beside me.

When he was finished with his tea, he went and put his cup on the tray, and I followed suit, thinking of something else to talk to him about. I really hated that he was ignoring me this way; I hated his silence, I wished he would tell me something, anything – even yell at me. It was seriously annoying.

"Can we talk, please?" I asked him as he was about to go back to his spot in front of the window.

"I don't want to talk," he said, still avoiding my eyes – or even my direction entirely.

"I'm not used to that from you," I said, surprising myself with my use of the words 'used to,' but I recovered quickly. "You’ve always talked to me when something needs explaining or to be discussed."

He turned his head toward me and then offered a one-sided smile that didn't look like a smile at all, but more like a sneer, but not really a sneer at the same time. Ugh! "I'm not in the mood for talking," he said and then looked back out of the window again. His words reminded me of all of the times I’d replied to him with almost the same words when he said he wanted to talk to me, and it didn't feel so good.

Everything in me told me to just let it go and let him be and simply go back to my room, but I still didn't do it. I didn't want to leave him, I wanted to talk with him. "Why don't you just yell at me and tell me that you're mad at me and just let me have it," I said in frustration.

I thought he would seriously start yelling at me after that, but he didn't. He was really calm when he said, "I don't happen to cry over spilled milk."

Huh!

"Oh, I thought you didn't cry at all," I challenged, feeling stupid for speaking so childishly.

"You're right, I don't cry at all, and I won't be doing it over spilled milk," he replied coldly, frustrating me even more. Freaking spilled milk! "What happened, happened; talking about it won’t turn back time."

I looked down, embarrassed maybe. He was right, but … I didn't like for us to be like that. Don't even ask me why, because the heck if I knew. "Are you mad at me?" I whispered my question.

His silence was his answer.

"Please reply."

"I am," he replied, and his answer, though expected – it hurt. "For putting your life in danger," he continued, and my stomach fluttered. Was that really why he was mad? "It almost broke my promise."

Oh … that.

Hurt was back.

Still don't ask why.

Still didn't know the answer.

"Was that – all?" the words just came out, "Because of your promise?"

"Why else would I be?"

"I thought that … maybe you cared for me." I just couldn't hold it in.

The prince turned around so he was facing me, a look I couldn't get on his face. I could read confusion, but there was something else I just couldn't find a word for. "Why?" he asked.

"Why what?"

"Why would you want me to care? Because I'm a toy you'd like to play with?" A hint of hurt was lacing his voice.

"Why would you say that? I don't think that of you!"

"Do you really want me to count?" he asked, but answering at the same time, saying with his question that it was more than one time that I’d made him think I thought of him as someone I could fool. "We had a deal, Princess." Him calling me 'Princess' again and addressing me when he talked was like a wave of fresh air and a cool breeze on a hot and sunny day. I even wanted to smile, but it wasn't the best time to do so. I just listened to him talk, glad that he was finally doing so.

"I don't understand why you would do that? Why would you escape? Was I treating you badly? Was I allowing anyone to treat you badly? I promised that no one would ever lay a finger on you. I promised that I would never harm you in any way. Why would you put your life in danger just to run away from me?"

I felt the closing in my throat as I listened to his words, looking at him, not knowing what to say. So I said nothing.

"We agreed that you would stay here and we would pretend we were happily married for six months and then you would go. I thought you wanted to save Alica's life? And for your information, your nephew or niece as well! If you didn't want it, why did you tell me you were okay with it? Why? Why fool me? And then jeopardize your life that way!" He pressed his lips into a tight line, his eyes telling of anger, but a controlled anger, "Just one thing I really want to know more than anything: I told you all about the secret tunnels. You knew that one of them ended very close to the airport and a car was covered there ready to be used in case of any emergency – why didn't you take that tunnel? Why?"

"Because I didn't want to betray you that way!" I shouted, tears blurring my vision. 

The truth was, I did think about it, but I thought that if he’d trusted me that much, I shouldn't violate that trust and use it for my benefit. It wasn't right to do so, and I couldn't do it.

The prince looked taken aback by my yelled statement, keeping his eyes locked with mine for a few moments, then shook his head. "You confuse the hell out of me, Princess," he said in a low voice. "Most of the time I think I understand you, but then you do or say something and I just … you confuse me," he repeated. "You made a deal with me to stay here for six months and then you escape, you said you would help cover for my sister to save her life and then put it in danger along with yours, you knew about an easier escape but you didn't use it so as not to betray me even with everything you did, you told me to pretend that the kiss I shared with you never happened and then you came and kissed me, just like that." He let out a sarcastic chuckle, "Or was it a part of your 'Let's make a fool out of Mazen' plan?"

"I wasn't trying to fool you," I said in a low voice, and he gave me a look of disbelief. "I really wasn't," I insisted. "You’re right, escaping that way was a mistake, even if I didn't care for Alice – which is not true, by the way. I should've thought about the baby inside of her, not because it's my blood, but because it's a baby, innocent in all of this. I just wanted an out, I wanted to go home, the thought was consuming me to no end. When I saw an out, I couldn't not take it. I wasn't thinking about it from all angles, I admit. You could say I was too caught up with the motion, I wasn't really thinking."

"I've noticed," he said, and I frowned. "I don't mean it in a bad way, but really, a lot of things you just don't think about, and I keep trying to understand you or why you do it, but–" He shook his head. 
"Like that day we went out, you brought back roses for Mona to apologize for yelling at her. I told you to keep our sneaking out a secret, and you did, to a point – you just didn't think of the fact that Mona would wonder where you got those roses from – which, by the way, we only grow that kind in the stable's garden and certainly not in our sunroom. She would eventually put two and two together and know we went to the stable."

Oh, snap! I really didn't think about that! His words made my eyes widen.

"You did it with good intentions, that I'm aware of, so it's fine. Lots of things you did were the same way, but this?" He threw his hand in the air in an 'I don't know why' motion.

"I just wanted to be safe again!" I tried, my voice low and my eyes looking away from him.

''Safe?" he said in shock. "You weren't safe in here?"

I didn't reply.

"I know with everything your brother did you were not feeling secure, and I know my mother didn't make you very comfortable with her words, but – I promised you, Princess. I promised to keep you safe. Did I do anything that made you not trust me? Why can't you trust me? Just give me one good reason why!"

A tear escaped my teary eyes, and the truth escaped my trembling lips. "You're a Muslim. I can't trust Muslims, that's why." I turned away, my back facing him, I couldn't risk seeing the look of hurt I knew would be there, caused by my words. I’d never liked the sight of him being hurt, and didn't think I ever would.

"Huh! Seriously, Princess?" The hurt was truly evident in his voice. "Because I'm a Muslim? How judgmental and prejudicial could you really be?" His voice raised a bit, and frustration closed his tone, along with … distaste. Might even be disgust. "First you call me a filthy Arab, then you say you can't be friends with a Muslim, and now this?"

I couldn't take it, I wanted to tell him, I wanted him to understand. I couldn't stand the fact that he would think I was like that for nothing – I had my reasons. I wanted to tell him … but, the words wouldn't come out. They just wouldn't.

"You don't know anything about me," I said with a shaky voice.

"And I did tell you I wanted us to get to know each other, but you didn't want anything to do with me, of course – because I'm an Arab Muslim."

A battle was happening inside my head. I wanted to tell him everything, I wanted to explain myself; I hated to be judged that much. He didn't know the truth, or why I was like that towards him and his people … or race, for that matter. But I’d never talked about those things. Only a handful of people knew of my story, and I didn't know if it was a good idea to share such a thing with him.

"You were away from the palace for only half an hour before you were brought back. Only half an hour. Do you realize what that means? It didn't work. For one reason or another, it didn't work," he said. "It would've never worked unless I was involved in it. I would've made your departure successful and safe! Had you told me you weren't okay with staying here for those six months, I would've found a way out. I would've still found a way to save my sister, one that didn't involve you. I would've come up with something. I've done it before, and I would've done it again," he paused, "But you lied to me, making it even more difficult to try and cover it up."

Tears streamed down my cheeks; the pain in his voice all the while he spoke wasn't lost on me. The silence lingered, and the tension that was surrounding us grew thicker, and when I heard his frustrated and impatient huff, I just had to tell him. Everything.

"My parents – God rest their souls – were very busy people," I started, trying really hard to control the shaking in my voice. "They barely ever had any time for me or my brother, but when they did, they made it the best – always making up for the time they spent away, always doing their best to let us know that they were busy like that only for our sakes, to provide us with everything we might ever want and more – and we got used to it. We accepted it." I knew that the prince was probably wondering why I was telling him that, but he didn't say anything, he just let me talk, and talk I did.

"When they were away, they didn't leave us to be raised by a nanny, they left us with our grandparents, my mother's parents. They were loving and caring more than I could ever describe. I loved my parents dearly, but I loved my grandparents even more, way more." I sighed. "Jasper was always a huge bother for them – pranks, tricks, troubles, you name it. My parents had to send him to a private school, leaving me alone with my grandparents since I was only five years old, and I think their love for me was doubled after that day. After all, I got all of their attention.

"My grandmother was my life, and my grandfather was my soul. Though he was working, he always made sure to drive me to school every single morning. When he would stay all night at his office until morning or when he would go in earlier than usual to work, he would have his driver take me to his work place, and then he would take it from there and still drive me to school himself." I swallowed thickly, my heart thumping hard in my chest, the worst memory of my life nearing my head and the feel of an approaching panic attack threatening to consume me.

 "One day, he had to go in early, and the driver took me there, near the building where we usually waited for my grandfather to come and take me. We were very late and I was annoyed by that fact, but I knew that my grandfather would somehow drive me on time. The driver left the car, but I could see him as he took a few steps away from it and leaned on a wall then lit a cigarette. It was only a minute or two later that I heard the most horrible sound I'd ever heard in my whole life, the sound of an explosion, a loud thud, glass crashing and steel twisting." My voice cracked and my tears stayed fresh on my cheeks, my arms coming to hug my body, trying my best to keep myself as calm as possible so I could finish saying what I wanted him to know.

"I think I could never tell you how scared I was, seeing everyone running around me, screaming, the driver nowhere to be found; he ran or whatever, he was just not there. I didn't know where to go or what to do. I could only hug my knees to myself and cry and shake … and watch." My breathing started to become uneven, and I still tried my best to control it. By that point, I didn't even think about what the prince was doing behind me anymore or if he was listening or whatever. I was nine years old again and trapped in car, watching with teary and terrified eyes as people ran, shouted, cried and screamed.

"Papa!" My voice was panicked and my breaths were shallow. Fear filling my insides and tears filling my eyes.

"Bella." His voice was very low and his breaths were barely there. Worry filling his words and an undeniable sorrow was in his tone.

"Papa, I'm so scared, please come here already." Begs and pleas.

"I'm afraid I won't make it this time, Sweetie-Pie." Gasps and sobs.

"No, no, Papa, you have to come here, you have to."

"Papa loves you so much, Bella."

"My grandfather called me, his last words were that he loved me, calling me with the name that I never allowed anyone to call me ever again. It was ours, and I made sure that it stayed that way." A wave of longing hit my heart; I missed him so much, it hurt so badly. "And when the call ended, the scene around me just didn't, nor did the fear in my heart."

The space between the backseat and the passenger seat felt so tiny as I slid myself down there, my eyes refusing to obey my mind's order for them to close tightly shut. They stayed wide open, watching in terror all of the horrible things happening around me.

My tears blurred my vision, and somehow I was grateful for it, because the sight would be cloudy for a moment, preventing more horrible things from entering my mind. But it would clear again way too soon when my tears would escape my eyes.

The smell of something metallic burning, all of the smoke up above that I could see through the window, filling the place around the car, my hands too shaky and too scared to leave my knees and close the opened window, my head moving frantically to the sides, my body pulling up to see something, then curling down when the 'something' caused me to scream with closed lips, too scared to even open my mouth. Wanting to be found yet so afraid that being lost and forgotten would be better, because the world outside of the car was too terrifying to even think about leaving.

My grandpa had never lied to me. Never. But I kept wishing that he had finally done it. That he’d lied when he told me he wouldn't make it. That he would come eventually and end this nightmare with his warm smile and loving hug.

"Do you have any idea how I felt as I watched people jumping from the building to the ground? Right before my eyes, I've seen it all. And when I heard the second explosion – I couldn't stop the shaking in my heart after that, I was literally vibrating," I rubbed my throat with my hand, desperate for the closing in it to lighten a bit, just a bit so I would be able to talk, and I think it worked. Just a bit.

I could never, ever forget the bloodcurdling screams I heard coming from thousands of New Yorkers as the first building collapsed. I could never forget how much it hurt as I kept screaming and crying for Papa to come and save me while I watched more horrific moments and witnessed the most awful thing you could ever see in your life. I could never forget the smell of dirt, smoke and ashes that filled my lungs to the point it was a miracle I stayed alive.

Maybe I passed out, maybe I didn't. Maybe it was hours before I was found, but if still felt like ages and ages. Maybe I wet myself. Maybe I lost my voice screaming. Maybe I got blinded by the grey dirt that filled everywhere. Maybe I grew deaf from all of the sirens going off around me. Maybe I was nothing but a ball of frightened feelings and a broken heart. But I still felt it all, I still had it all – tough, rough, ugly and agonizing.

The fireman that saved me looked like an alien to me. He was covered in dirt, grey from head to toe, his clothes had some tears in them, and maybe even blood – I couldn't tell through all of the ashes covering his body. I didn't want to go with him, but was too weak to resist. When he carried me while shushing me, I found a hint of comfort in his arms and even in the roughness of his dirty uniform against my face. My nameless, faceless hero who took me to a safe place where I was taken care of, might as well had been an angel God had sent to me for all I knew.

"My grandmother never left my side after that. She walked us through our loss, held my hand all the way, made sure that I knew who’d done this to us, who was responsible for my Papa's death, and their religion and their roots. I was never able to go to school again. She home schooled me, taught me almost everything I know. Her first priority was that I stay away from even learning anything about those who’d killed my grandfather other than just that – they killed him," I choked out, my lips trembling and my voice cracking.

"I admit that before I came here, I didn't know anything about Muslims other than they kill in the name of their religion. I didn't even know the name you call God. I've learned a lot," I said. "I admit you were good to me, you treated me with respect and – care. You were so patient with me even when I was so awful to you. I know we made a deal, but I just knew that I couldn't trust you. I couldn't tell you that I can't stay here. I thought you might do something bad to me if I didn't go along with it. And when you promised to keep me safe, I wanted to believe you, I really did, but – it's inside of me, I couldn't help it. I just had to not trust you, and the first chance I saw to go home, I just took it," I cried.

It was only then that I felt his hand touching the back of my elbow softly. He held it and forced me gently to turn around to face him. Though I did turn around and face him, I still wouldn't look in his eyes – couldn't, not even when his fingertips touched my chin and raised my head up slightly.

"Look at me, Princess," he whispered softly, his voice so, so close, causing a wave of calmness to wash over me. Like magic, it was just like magic. "Please, look at me."

I did. His eyes held something heavy inside of them, something warm, like sunshine. Something tender, like butterfly wings. Something passionate, something … caring, curing, loving.

"If I knew you didn't want to stay, I would've come up with something else," he repeated his words from earlier. "I swear to God, I would've never kept you here for even one day if I knew you weren't okay with it or didn't want to do it."

He swore!

"You're not held prisoner here, Princess," he said sincerely, his thumbs removing tears as he hugged my face with his hands. "If you’d told me or even given me any hint that you really wanted to leave, I would've helped you with all I could to get you back safe to your country, I swear. I would've figured out something, I swear I would. I knew you weren't very happy about staying here, but I thought you wanted to help. I didn't know you didn't want that at all."

I nodded my head frantically, tears falling, lips pressed into a tight line and eyes fixed on his, my heart believing him, but my mind judging me and calling me stupid.

"I'm so sorry for what you went through," he said, honesty dripping from his voice. "I'm even sorry I can't find a better word than 'Sorry,' but I swear if I had the power to turn back time and save you from going through all of this – I would've done it in the blink of an eye. I swear."

I don't know if it was me who threw myself into his arms, or it was him who pulled me to his body, but I just knew that in a moment I found myself hugging him so tightly and him doing the same. I was crying so hard into his chest, and he was soothing me, hushing me, his hand smoothing my hair, and his heart sending calming waves to mine.

"I – I didn't want to tell you a sob story, I j-just wanted you to understand. I'm not judgmental, I'm not racist," I sobbed and tried to defend myself. "Muslims took my grandfather away from me, they killed him. I can't trust Muslims, and all Arabs are Muslims, or so I thought. I can't trust Arabs as well, just can't." I sounded hysterical even to my own ears.

"Shhh, Princess, it's okay, it's okay," he soothed, kissing my hair with the most tender sensation you could ever feel, and then resting his cheek on the top of my head, hugging me tighter. "You can trust me, you can, you know you can."

And he was right, I always knew I could, I just didn't want to. But after last night and what he’d done, after this morning and what he’d said … I did.

I trusted him.

~BK~