My tears mixed with laughter and Mazen’s light chuckles. He was trying his best to stay composed and did very well in holding his tears, but I could see it all – Mazen was beyond delighted.
Nothing in the world could describe how that made me feel. It was the best feeling in the world to make Mazen happy. Ironic, when it was him who made me – and us – this ecstatic in the first place.
It was unreal. Everything was so perfect and amazingly good. I felt as if nothing could upset me ever again. My happiness with the man I loved and the family we were starting was enough for two lifetimes, and maybe more.
I wished I could speed up time, and make the next several months go by in the matter of a few seconds, so I’d finally meet this baby of whom I had dreamed of for what seemed like an eternity. But since that wasn’t possible, I decided to enjoy each and every minute of my pregnancy until I could meet the new love of my life.
“You jerk!” I punched his chest playfully. “How could you wait so long to tell me?”
Mazen laughed, “I did try to tell you, princess, but you wouldn’t open the bathroom door. So, I thought, ‘What are the odds of Daddy knowing before Mommy that they are having a baby?’ And I decided to abuse the heck out of this knowledge and, well – do this!” He waved his hand around us, where I could still see some of the doves flying and the fading shapes of the hearts in the sky.
“My God!” I said for the millionth time. “This is crazy! I’m the last one to learn that I’m pregnant?” I laughed, wondering if I was dreaming.
“Not the last one, but you might be number one thousand and three on the list of people who know.” He kissed my nose, smiling.
“Not even Fawaz gave anything away!”
“Are you kidding? He’s a royal guard. The Prime Royal Guard that is. If he can’t keep a secret, who can?”
“I guess,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe it myself.”
“Believe it, Marie. Believe it. It’s so good to believe.” Mazen hugged me tightly.
“It does feel great,” I sighed into his chest. “But you know I still need to take five or ten more tests to believe it, right?”
“Only ten?”
“You know what? I don’t think I will believe it until I see my baby’s ID or maybe even driver’s license,” I said, backing away a little to look at his face. “Wait, will we teach our baby how to drive at sixteen? Or eighteen?”
“Sixteen is not a baby, anymore, I believe.”
“No! No driving before thirty. Actually, no driving at all. It’s not safe.”
“I think we need to discuss names first, crazy princess.”
“Um … I guess so,” I said in a low voice, looking at Mazen for a second before we both burst out laughing hysterically. We were the happiest people on Earth, I swear.
“You drive me crazy, you know that, right?” Mazen moved my hair off my face.
“I know, and I love it.”
My sweet, caring husband was trying to keep up with how my insane mind worked, and it was one of the many, many reasons why I was madly in love with him.
Today, he’d given me one more reason to love him even more.
We decided to announce my pregnancy the next day, it was the norm in the Middle East, anyway. I thought that with everything he’d done, the whole Kingdom would have known by then, but that wasn’t the case.
The soldiers who were part of the announcement would never tell anyone, according to Mazen. The sky art the pilots made in the sky was too far away for most people to see. However, it was a matter of hours before we would announce it to everyone, anyway.
Mazen wished to tell his mother first, and personally. I happily agreed.
The joy in my mother-in-law’s eyes was exceptional; I had never seen her so delighted. She started crying hysterically the second we confirmed that we weren’t joking.
She hugged Mazen really hard, and I didn’t want to dampen her happiness by refusing to embrace her, so I did. It didn’t feel bad at all, on the contrary.
She took me by the hand to her room and through secret doors that led to a relatively small room. Once the lights were on, I couldn’t help but gasp.
“Oh, my God!” I gushed.
Set against the walls, were display cases where there were rows and rows of sparkling jewelry made of diamond and gold, maybe even some other rare stones. It was unbelievable.
“Anything you pick is yours,” she said with joy dripping from her voice.
“For me?” I asked with wide eyes, and she nodded. “You already sent me so many boxes of tiaras and jewelry. I don’t think I’ll ever wear the same thing twice if I wear a new piece every day of my life.”
On the day of the coronation, she’d sent me three boxes of jewelry. They were so big that each had to be carried to our residence by two female guards. It was insane that she still had so much more.
“No, no! Those pieces were things we inherit as queens. But this collection is my own. I want to give you a gift. I’ve hardly worn any of this myself.”
“Uh … but …”
“Please, benty, accept my present. Choose anything you’d like.”
I wasn’t sure if I should; everything looked much too expensive to be casually given away. When I turned to glance at Mazen, he nodded in encouragement, and I knew I had to pick something – it seemed like it would mean a lot to the Queen Mother.
There were hundreds of necklaces, rings, bracelets, hair jewelry, and earrings. There were also many other things where I had no idea which part of the body you put them on, but every piece was absolutely remarkable.
After looking at everything, I picked a simple white gold necklace with a small heart-shaped diamond charm. The diamond was pink and very pretty.
“I like this one,” I said pointing at the necklace.
The Queen Mother smiled as she lifted it from the pillow that cradled it. “May I put it on you?”
With a nervous smile, I nodded. She was delighted as she put the necklace around my neck. “It suits you beautifully, Your Majesty.”
“It looks lovely,” Mazen agreed.
A moment later, she started randomly picking other jewelry – eight pieces, which may have been the heaviest of all of her jewelry – then called for her maid.
“Jamila!”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”
“Box these up and send them with two guards to Her Majesty’s residence.”
“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” Jamila said again, leaving me speechless for a minute.
“But, I already picked my gift,” I said.
“You picked one of your gifts, Your Majesty. I picked the rest. Nine gifts, one for each month of your blessed pregnancy with the mercy of God,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you. Really.” It was all I could say.
I decided to tell Rosanna of the pregnancy myself. I went to her wing directly after I left the Queen Mother.
I had mixed feelings while waiting for Rosanna as I sat in her living room. It was hard to stay composed; I was nervous about telling my best friend.
Rosanna looked as stunning as always as she entered the living room. Her broad smile disappeared once she saw me struggling to keep the smile on my face.
“You okay, sister?” she asked.
I got up and took a few steps towards her. “Yes. I’m okay,” I smiled. “There’s something that I want to tell you, personally, before you hear it from someone else.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Uh … I’m pregnant,” I said, then swallowed thickly.
For the first time ever, Rosanna paused before replying. She always knew the right thing to say, and she was very witty and quick about choosing her words and when to speak. But this time, she couldn’t talk for a second.
“Congratulations! May you have a blessed pregnancy,” she said with a smile, but she choked on the last word, and all of a sudden, tears streamed down her cheeks.
My legs took me to where she was standing. I hugged her tightly as tears left my eyes, and we both cried as she hugged me back just as tightly.
It was the first time that I had seen Rosanna’s tears since the death of her uncle. I’d seen her with bloodshot eyes and reddish nose that spoke silently of sleepless nights and many tears shed, but she had never cried in front of me other than that time. Not when she learned about her siblings’ betrayal, nor when she saw them losing their heads for said betrayal.
Now, she cried, and she cried hard. Just as hard as she was hugging me.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she said, the sadness in her tone was heartbreaking. “Please, don’t mistake my tears for anything other than happy tears for you.”
“Never, Rosanna. Never,” I said, hugging her even tighter.
I knew they weren’t happy tears; they reeked of disappointment and longing. But I knew it didn’t mean Rosanna hated that I was pregnant and she wasn’t, yet. Rosanna would only ever wish me happiness, but her sadness and want were covering the joy she was feeling for me. And I understood. I really did.
Rosanna took a step back to look at my face. “You’ll give me your baby shower suit to wear, right?” she smiled, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
She was asking me if after I give birth, I would give her the silky baby shower dress to wear – as she had given me Janna’s ― so she would be the next to get pregnant, as the culture believed.
I shook my head, wiping her tears with my knuckles. “No, sister. I won’t have any need to.” I told her, “You’ll be pregnant long before my baby shower. I just know it.”
The truth was, I knew nothing. But I was convinced of one thing – I would pray for Rosanna daily, and I was sure that my prayers would be answered. God was merciful and had never failed me.
Whenever Mazen got up before me, which was normal, he woke me up by peppering kisses all over my face. It was my most favorite part about waking up, and the best part of my morning.
For the past few days, he’d added something new to his morning routine. He would kiss me all over my face, then expose my stomach and give it three light kisses along with a small rub.
He was kissing our baby.
Believe it or not, the feel of his lips over my stomach as he kissed the part of us that was inside me – our baby – was better than anything I’d ever experienced in my whole life. It was heartwarmingly beautiful.
This morning, when Mazen kissed the baby and me, I smiled sleepily at him, then dozed off for a few minutes. I wanted to steal just a few more moments before I had to get up and start my day.
A soft voice called me, “Your Majesty? Your Majesty?”
The voice was familiar, but it took me a few moments before I realized who it belonged to, and I was suddenly wide awake.
“Donia!” I got up with a big smile on my face, seeing her as she stood beside my bed, the never-ending blush present on her face and a smile decorating her lips.
I took her in a tight embrace. “Welcome back! I’ve missed you!” I said, absolutely glad to see her safe and sound. My heart was already swelling as the awful event that I’d witnessed at her wedding played itself back in my mind.
“Oh, thank you so much, Your Majesty. I’ve missed you too,” she said with a sweet smile.
“How are you? Are you okay? Are you happy?” I asked in one breath. I’d asked someone to give me updates on her, and they’d always said that she was okay, and that was about it.
“I’m really fine, Your Majesty. You’re very kind,” she said, her face going even redder than before. “I prepared the bathroom for your shower; the palace managers will be here in thirty minutes. Is there anything you’d like me to do before they arrive?”
For a moment, I didn’t know if I should ask her the million questions I had. It didn’t seem like it was the right time, and to be honest, I didn’t know where to start, so I decided to come up with something else.
“No, that will be all. Thank you,” I said, and before she left, I asked, “Do you eat lunch in here, or downstairs?” I had no idea if she preferred to join the staff in their dining room, or if she ate here in her own room. I hardly had lunch here myself.
“Uh, I eat lunch here, Your Majesty. Is there’s something you wish for me to do?” she asked.
“Yes, actually, Donia,” I said. “Would you wait for me at one p.m., so we can have lunch together?”
“Together?” She looked taken aback.
“Yes. I mean, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, I don’t mind, Your Majesty. It is an honor.”
“Great. I can’t wait,” I told her. My smile camouflaged the nervousness I felt at the thought of what I wanted to talk to her about.
It was no surprise that I was feeling emotional as I sat with Donia and chatted a bit. I knew that the memory of what happened to me would kick in. I knew this conversation wouldn’t be a walk in the park, but I needed to understand things. Many things.
“I really liked your wedding ceremony – it was beautiful. I love to see and experience new things from different cultures. It was an amazing experience for me,” I told her with a smile, preparing her – and myself – for what I really wanted to discuss.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. It was an incredible honor that you were able to attend,” Donia said, beaming.
“It was my pleasure.” I kept the smile on. “There was only one thing that I didn’t like. It really devastates me to think about it.”
Donia’s smile fell. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. Was it the food? I knew they shouldn’t have served goat; you never finish it whenever we make it here. I was so upset to learn that you threw up right after.”
“No, no! Don’t be sorry, Donia. It wasn’t the food, really. The food was tasty,” I said, totally surprised that the vile way that she’d lost her virginity wasn’t the first thing that came to mind – maybe she didn’t think about it at all.
“What was it then, Your Majesty?” She looked completely clueless.
“Donia, after we ate, a gathering of women walked you to your tent. Then the next thing I saw was a man holding a white cloth with spots of blood on it. What was that?” Of course, I knew what it was, but I wanted to know how she felt about the tradition. I expected her to share her disgust.
I was mistaken. Highly mistaken.
Donia’s blush was darker than ever, and her gaze dropped to the floor. “It was my father. He was holding out his honor for the rest of the family and my husband to see.”
“Your father?” I asked with shock.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Why do you call it ‘his honor’?”
“What else should I call it, Your Majesty?” she asked with a nervous laugh.
“It belongs to you. It’s your honor.” It wasn’t fair. It was like – she didn’t even know any better.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but it belongs to my father and my family. I did my duty to protect their honor and gave it back to them on my wedding night,” she explained in a small voice, still looking down. It was as if she had memorized what to say and was repeating them without understanding what they meant. Maybe she didn’t even want to understand it.
It was sickening.
I realized that it was what she believed, and it wouldn’t be easy for her to tell differently. It saddened me, but I needed to talk to her more about it. Maybe I could understand.
“All right, Donia. I think I understand your point. It’s very honorable that you’d protect and save yourself until marriage. I did the same thing – for religious reasons.” I said, trying to find common ground. I was hoping she could be more open if I shared something of myself and my personal life with her. I doubted that religion alone was why she’d saved herself for her husband since she hadn’t mentioned it at all. “But I also believe that it should be shared with you and your spouse only, not a whole crowd. Don’t you agree?”
Even though I knew I was pushy, I wanted to know her thoughts about it, if she’d hated it as much as I did, even if I was only a witness from afar. Heck, it had almost happened to me and to this day I couldn’t forget it. I was really amazed by how she was already over it – or maybe she wasn’t?
“Um … I, uh …” was all she said before going completely quiet, but it was all the answer I needed. I could see her real feelings written all over her soft features.
She hated it. She was suffering from it. There was no doubt.
“You can tell me, Donia. Don’t be afraid to speak your thoughts with me.” I touched her hand. She was fidgeting with a stray thread on her clothes while we talked, and I was sorry to feel how cold her hand was. She was very nervous.
“I’m – I’m so sorry, Your Majesty. I, uh, I can’t speak of such things. It’s not decent,” she apologized, her voice shaking.
The sadness I felt for this girl, and those like her was indescribable. She couldn’t even say what she was thinking or share her opinion on the matter that must have had hurt her deeply. She was struck by fear of her people.
“Donia, sweetie, I’m the Queen. I will protect you.” I tried one more time.
“No, you can’t!” she snapped, and I jerked back at the sound of her sweet voice suddenly being this choked and gruff. My hands moved unconsciously to cover my stomach as if I was protecting it from something.
My heart was hurting as I saw her terrified tears streaming down her delicate face, then a look of horror dominated her features as the realization of what she’d just done dawned on her.
“Oh, God! I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me, Your Majesty, I didn’t mean to,” she begged in Arabic. Her fingers tangled in a plea in front of her face.
“It’s okay, Donia,” I said softly, the look on my face was wiped clean of all of the surprise, disgust, sadness, and hurt that I was feeling. What kind of strong power had held that girl down to the point that she thought that talking about her feelings was a shame?
“I’m so sorry,” she said one more time.
“It’s really fine. Maybe we can talk later.” I offered her a small smile.
It seemed like I had a long road ahead to figure things out. I wanted to help those girls so much. I wanted it more than I could say, but it was evident that my help wasn’t welcomed.
How would I be able to help those who needed help but didn’t want it?