The nights I’d spent without Mazen sleeping right next to me were many. But that particular night, I felt so lonely. It was as though I hadn’t seen him in months, not just mere hours ago.
I was checking my phone every few minutes to see if I’d missed a call from him, but I found no messages each time. The worry and the waiting were eating at me. I wanted to call him so badly, but I knew he would’ve called if he could.
I called Rosanna an hour ago, hoping that I could get more information. But she was heartbroken over her aunt, and couldn’t stay on the phone for long. She was crying so hard, and it was very upsetting to hear my best friend in that condition.
All I could understand from Rosanna was what I already knew. Queen Mother Shams was seriously injured.
It felt horrible, to imagine that she might … no, I wouldn’t think that way, I thought to myself, she will be fine, she had to be. At least, for Mazen’s sake.
These past few months, my mother-in-law had proven that she was one of the kindest people I’d ever dealt with in my entire life. I’d grown to learn that since the day I allowed her into my life.
Queen Mother Shams treated me like I was her own daughter.
I didn’t want to lose her, so I prayed. My prayers were sincere, they were wrapped with hopes and wishes. I begged God to heal her. I prayed that I would be given a chance to tell her that I did care about her because I never said that to her. I begged God to let her live. I didn’t want my son to grow up without experiencing the love she could offer. He already had no grandfathers and had lost one of his grandmothers.
She was the only person who could make my son feel what a grandmother’s love felt like.
I prayed for her speedy recovery because I knew that Mazen might not be able to cope with the loss of both of his parents in less than two years.
I still hadn’t recovered from losing my own family members. I laughed, and I lived, but their deaths would always leave an empty hole in my chest.
I didn’t want the people I loved the most to know that feeling.
Wiping away my tears, I decided to take a hot shower, hoping it would help me relax a bit while I waited for Mazen to call. The water was near boiling and stung as it touched my skin, but it still didn’t give me any kind of ease. I was not able to let go of the worry, and I knew I wouldn’t until I heard Mazen’s voice.
In bed, I flipped TV channels. News of the Queen Mother’s accident was already on many stations, but there was no new information.
Listening to the reporters was even more annoying than the thoughts playing in my head so I eventually turned off the TV. My worrying was turning into distress. In my head, I started blaming Mazen for not calling, which was unfair, but I couldn’t control it.
After what felt like months, my phone went off and ‘Prince Charming’ flashed on the screen.
“Mazen.” I gasped, sounding exactly like how I felt, desperate. I was desperate to hear his voice.
“Are you okay?” he asked ― which was absurd since he sounded far from being okay himself.
“I’m fine, I promise,” I said. “How is she?”
“She’s …” He paused. I knew he was probably holding back tears. I felt pain in my chest just hearing the sadness in his voice. “She might not make it, Marie.”
“No!” I gasped, my eyes welling with tears, then I composed myself – for Mazen’s sake. “No, don’t say that, Mazen. She’ll be all right, have faith.”
“Her heart stopped for thirty seconds, and she lost so much blood. The best that can happen is that she’ll go into a coma for God only knows how long.”
I swallowed thickly, not knowing what to say. “I’m so sorry, angel,” I whispered. “I know her condition is bad, but we’re both firm believers in the power of prayer. We will pray, the whole Kingdom will, and she will be okay. Trust in God.”
There was a long pause of silence. All I could hear was his hitched breaths. I knew he must be trying his hardest not to cry, and it pained me. I wished he would just let loose; crying might ease the hurt that he was feeling. But I also knew that he wouldn’t. He was stronger than that.
“She’s getting all of the best medical help, Mazen. It’s time for us to pray. Just do it. And believe that there’s nothing impossible when God wills.”
“Amen,” he said in a low voice. “I will.”
“It will be okay.”
“I wish I could hug you right now,” Mazen whispered in the most desperate voice I’d ever heard from him.
I pressed tightly on my lips, shaking my head as my tears fell. “Soon, angel.”
“You promise me that you’re feeling okay?”
“I promise I am. You just worry about your mother now.”
“You take care of yourself and our son until I get back and take care of you, okay?” Mazen said. It was the same words he’d spoken just a few hours ago, and I wondered how worried he really was about us. It might be even more than he was expressing.
I didn’t tell him that I needed a hug from him right now even more than he could imagine.
Mazen’s call – although brief – was all I needed to calm my nerves. I still had no clue how my mother-in-law had ended up injured, or what kind of accident she could have had, given that she even wasn’t allowed out of her quarters. I couldn’t ask Mazen, he was too broken, and I didn’t want him to go into details. I expected I would find out all about it in the morning.
Laying my head on my pillow, I closed my eyes in the hope that I would get some sleep. Surprisingly, I was able to fall asleep just minutes later.
It didn’t feel like I had been sleeping for long before someone pushed the bedroom doors wide open. I sat up in a panic.
It’s probably Mazen, I thought. But that was odd. He wasn’t due back until late morning, and it was still dark outside. But then again, no one would enter my room this way, this late, without permission.
I strained my eyes to see who was by the door, then they almost bulged out of their sockets when I realized it was Mo’taz – my first guard.
Our bedroom was a forbidden zone for all of the male royal guards.
“Your Majesty!” he said in a rush as he ran to where I was now half-sitting on the bed. “We need to get you out of here. Now!”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, horrified, seeing that he was already by the side of the bed, taking my hand, and forcing me into a standing position. I wondered if it was something Sameera did in the kitchen, again.
“The mansion is under attack,” he said, not looking at me, but trying to drag me out of the room, which was painful given my state from being just awakened by the horrible news, to being nine months pregnant.
“What? By whom?” I asked as he continued to drag me away.
“We need to get you out of here!” he repeated, ignoring my question.
“Wait, we need to call Mazen!” I said, trying to pull my hand away from his tight grip to get my phone, but he only tightened his grip on my wrist even more.
“There’s no time for that; your life is in danger.”
“Where are the rest of the guards, where are the Coast Guards?” I demanded once I made it out of the hallway that led to the stairs. A million fearful thoughts ran through my head, and my heart raced.
Mo’taz didn’t reply, he continued to drag me down the stairs, and before I could ask any other question, I saw a body at the bottom of the stairs –Sameera.
I let out a scream and tried to kneel next to her, maybe try to wake her up. “Oh, no! What happened to her?” She was motionless.
“Run, Your Majesty, we need to run! She’s already gone!” Mo’taz said, and my vision blurred.
“No!” I cried out, tears streaming down my face.
Sameera was dead.
I couldn’t think of anything else. If it weren’t for the fact that I was being dragged by my guard, I would’ve frozen in place, not knowing what to do.
It could only have been less than one minute since Mo’taz woke me up and started dragging me, but I was already out of breath. My hand – the one that he wasn’t clutching – was pressed to my lower stomach, which had begun to sting. I knew it was probably from the jogging, but I didn’t know if it was harming my baby in any way.
Although my head was a mess of frightening thoughts and dread, I realized something important—it was quiet, too quiet.
“Why am I not hearing the alarm? Why didn’t you push it?” I asked as he kept pulling me, and that was when he slowed down until he stopped in his tracks.
I looked at my surroundings, breathing heavily, scared and confused. “Why are we going to the basement?”
Mo’taz didn’t reply. Nor did he do move to get us to the nearest emergency exit.
I also realized that I couldn’t see any sign of an attack from outside the mansion. The windows – as far as I could see – were whole, nothing was disturbed, and – there were no sounds of an intruder.
Mo’taz turned around to face me, and I was taken aback by the sneer on his face. It looked as if he was ready to kill somebody, or …
“Did you call for help?” I asked in a breathy voice.
“I knew you’d be annoying,” he said in Arabic. Before I could react, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and in one second he pressed it over my mouth and nose.
My eyes were wide open. I tried to pull his hand away from my face, but he was much stronger than I. My tears flew, and my feet started to feel so unsteady.
I had been drugged twice before, both were when I was at my dentist’s office, and I knew very well what the sensation of being drugged felt like – it was exactly what I was feeling now.
As I slowly sank to the floor, Mo’taz kept his hand and the handkerchief over my nose. The heaviness reached my hands, and I couldn’t struggle anymore. It was impossible to keep my eyes open.
Everything went black.
It was as if someone was playing drums with just one stick, one hit per second, very loudly.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Then I felt my heart, thrashing inside my chest, fast heartbeats that I could feel right in my throat.
I was cold. Sore. Scared. No … petrified. I was petrified.
I was lying on my side on a hard, cold floor. I couldn’t move an inch. My lower stomach was hurting; my back stung for some inexplicable reason. It wasn’t the same sort of ache I’d been feeling for the past few weeks because of the pregnancy, no. It felt like there were scratches and wounds, deep ones.
My eyes felt too heavy to open, and the darkness was ominous. My body was limp, every inch of me itched, and I couldn’t move at all, no matter how hard I tried.
I desperately wanted to touch my stomach, to see if my baby was still okay, but then I remembered – neither of us was safe.
My throat closed, my mouth was so dry, and as the minutes passed and I slowly became more aware, I came to the realization that my hands were cuffed. It seemed like I had something around my ankles as well, but I couldn’t be sure.
Besides the thumping in my head and the sound of my racing heartbeat that echoed in my ears, I was able to hear the sounds of one person, or maybe more than one, speaking in muffled voices – probably there was a closed door between us.
I listened very carefully to what they were saying, still not able to move at all from where I was lying on my side on the floor.
From what I could hear, I came to realize that the person who was talking was Mo’taz. His voice made me tremble.
“I need more, I almost died getting her here. You didn’t tell me that the tunnels were that fucked up!”
His words made no sense to me, but I kept listening anyway, in the hope that I could figure out what was going on or why I’d been brought here.
A woman responded to him; her voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t really tell who she was or where I had heard her voice before.
“It was the best we could do in a short time, and I’m not paying you more – five million is already too much.”
Five million? Was that my price? I wondered, hurt filling my chest.
“It would’ve been easier for me if I’d just killed her right then and there. I don’t know why you insisted on bringing her all the way here.”
“That’s none of your business, Mo’taz,” she replied in a stern voice. “You’ve done your part, and I paid you. Now you need to disappear.”
If I had any control over my heavily drugged body, I would have been screaming by now. The terror inside my heart was too much to put into words.
I’d been kidnapped, and I didn’t know who my abductor was or what they wanted from me. Every inch of my body was screaming ‘HELP!’ but it couldn’t be heard, not at all.