Golden Chains (The Colorblind Trilogy Book 3) Page 12

  “Marie, I won’t go on and on about how the traditions are difficult to change – you already know that. But, this is not just any tradition we’re talking about. This one affects family honor which is the most sacred thing to Arabs.”

  There was a long pause of silence as I mulled over everything Mazen just said. I’d known that convincing him wouldn’t be a walk in the park, but I had no idea that Mazen would actually shoot the bill down altogether. I assumed he would not agree to the penalty aspect of the bill, and I had already prepared my response. But in my wildest dreams, I did not think he would ask me to drop the matter entirely.

  There was no way I was giving up, though.

  “More sacred than Islam?” I asked.

  Mazen was taken aback. There was a slight wrinkle on his forehead as he asked, “What do you mean by that?”

  “I don’t know, Mazen. You say honor is the most sacred thing for Arabs. I’m just wondering if it’s more sacred than the majority’s religion.”

  “Of course, it’s not.”

  “Then why won’t the Kingdom follow God’s laws, the ones that say to protect women and not to hurt them? This is something that completely destroys them emotionally, harms them physically, and humiliates them endlessly. Why should it be allowed?”

  That was always what I hated most about some of the traditions. The practices were against their religion, yet – they valued the tradition more and practiced them mindlessly without batting an eyelash. It was disgusting.

  It was Mazen’s turn to gaze at me for a minute too long without saying anything. He knew I was right.

  “Isn’t it in the Quran – your holy book? Wasn’t that what the Prophet Mohammad said in his very last speech? He even pointed out that women should be ‘handled with care like you would handle fine glass’, didn’t he, Mazen?” I insisted, knowing very well that he wouldn’t have anything to say to that.

  “He did,” Mazen said. His voice was low, and he seemed thoughtful.

  “Then how can we call this country Islamic if its laws don’t conform to what Islam teaches?”

  Mazen leaned back against his armchair, his lips pressed into a thin line as he thought about what I’d just said. My hope that it would all work was rising to the sky, and I wasn’t going to let it go quickly.

  “The practice is fading as time passes,” Mazen said. “Only Bedouins do it now. I have a strong feeling it’ll stop completely in a matter of years,”

  “How many years, Mazen? Ten? Twenty? Thirty? You know very well it could take a century, or even more. Who knows?” I pointed out. “Can you estimate the number of girls who will have to suffer under this practice over those years? Hundreds of thousands. That could be the number of girls we save, Mazen. We just need to take the first step. Please.”

  “Marie, you don’t understand. Bedouins represent over thirty percent of the Kingdom’s population. They are a closed community–”

  “But they follow the Kingdom’s laws!” I interrupted, which contradicted all of the protocols I’d spent the past year and a half studying, but I was so eager to have his agreement, I couldn’t control myself.

  “They do, but that’s not what I want to point out. What I need you to understand is that – if we anger the Bedouins, they could start a war, and I’m not overstating it, they likely would.”

  “War?” The word sounded too big to describe some protests, but I found myself remembering what the Queen Mother said. She told me the same thing when I’d asked her. I’d thought she was being dramatic. But now Mazen is saying the same thing – it had to be true.

  “Yes, war. A civil war. Bedouins won’t sit back and watch. They won’t make signs and march outside the palace. They’ll display their anger and disagreement violently. We’re talking about their family’s honor here,” Mazen explained. “There will be bloodshed, Marie.”

  “Bloodshed?” I had a hard time believing it could really be that bad. “But this law is for the best. This law protects their women.”

  “Not their best, not in their opinion,” Mazen insisted. “They won’t see it that way, Marie. Trust me.”

  I could see everything Mazen was saying now. I’d known all along it was a huge deal, but bloodshed wasn’t something that I’d considered as a possibility, not in my wildest dreams.

  “Mazen,” I breathed out. The whole conversation was draining me, and for a moment, I was completely lost for words.

  Mazen grasped my hand and squeezed it. “I know that it means so much to you to help, but we have to look at the problem from every angle, consider all the options, possible consequences, and then decide.” He said in a very soft voice.

  “I won’t sit back and allow this to happen while I have the power to stop it,” I said, my voice just above a whisper. I was doing my best to hold back my tears.

  “It’s a heavy weight we carry, as King and Queen, my princess,” he told me. “There’s nothing that hurts more than knowing that you can’t save everyone. No matter how hard you try.”

  “No! We didn’t even try.”

  Mazen took a deep breath. “If I agree to this law, will you take the absolute responsibility for any damage and lives lost that could result? Will you be able to live with the guilt, Your Majesty?”

  I swallowed thickly. “I do. I will.” There was no denying that accepting that responsibility was scary. There was no denying how hot my throat burned to agree, but there was no way I give up. “Helping my people and offering them a better life is my responsibility, as well, Your Majesty.”

  Mazen nodded. “The bill won’t be finalized today. I have to study the benefits, downsides, repercussions, and the probability of armed conflict should this bill pass. But, your bill will be accepted by the end of this week. You have my word. All I need from you is to gain the agreement of the majority of the royal family on this bill, and that will be it.”

  “I can do that, Your Majesty.” My grin couldn’t be contained as Mazen stood and offered me his hand to shake to ‘seal-the-deal’.

  When I held my hand out to shake his, he gripped it hard enough to surprise me. He then pulled me towards him and met my lips with his in a steaming-hot kiss that knocked the air out of my chest. His other hand gripped the back of my neck tightly, holding my head in place as he kissed me senseless.

  I was panting hard when he backed away, my eyes still showing shock, but he only gave me one of his dazzling one-sided smiles.

  “Well done, princess,” he said. “I’m so proud of you.”

  My grin was back, and my chest was full of joy and relief – I was proud of myself. I was so happy to see that all my hard work had paid off. I wanted to jump up and down but thought better of it. I doubted my baby would like it.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty, but we still have another bill to discuss,” I grinned.

  I knew Mazen wanted the support of the family to protect me, even though I’d promised to take responsibility for the new law. I still would, but having the family agree to pass it would shelter me from personal attacks from those who opposed it; the changes wouldn’t appear to be an individual’s decision in others’ eyes.

  I understood. It was Mazen’s nature; protecting me was the norm for him, a need like air and food. I loved him for it.

  Getting the family to agree wouldn’t be the hardest part – putting the law into practice would be. My only hope was that I wasn’t digging the Kingdom or myself too deep of a hole with my passion for the cause.

  There are moments in everyone’s life that they know, deep in their hearts, will be unforgettable the second they happen. Those moments are always full of intense emotions. No matter what that feeling was, you just know that you’ll never forget how it felt, and why exactly you felt this way.

  My life with Mazen was filled with such moments. Love, smiles, touches…. life. Nothing in my relationship with him was ever inconsequential. Every memory was seated deep in my heart, forever.

  Just like this moment.

  I was lying on my back, c
ompletely naked under the covers, with Mazen beside me on his side, leaning on his elbow so he could look at me while we talked. His other hand was rubbing my stomach lazily where a small bump was forming. Our baby.

  “Karma,” Mazen said.

  “Karma? Like – Karma?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Yes. Karma. It’s a pretty name for a girl.”

  “Well, maybe where you come from, but where I come from, we only say ‘Karma is a bitch.’ – I’m not naming my daughter that!”

  Mazen chuckled and bent down to kiss my lips.

  “I like it when you say a dirty word.”

  “Shut up!” I giggled; he was making me blush.

  “Okay, your turn.”

  “Margret,” I suggested.

  “Um … our daughter is not ninety-eight years old, Marie.”

  “It’s an excellent choice. It sounds royal.” I defended.

  “She’s already a royal, thank you very much.”

  “Ugh! Okay, your turn.”

  “Hmmm … how about–”

  “Constantine!” I said aloud, interrupting Mazen. The name suddenly appeared in my mind, and I couldn’t wait for him to say his new suggestion.

  “What is Constantine?” Mazen looked confused.

  “A girl’s name. Duh!” It’s a boy’s name in English, but in Arabic, it could be used for a girl, that’s why I thought it might be a cute choice. Maybe …

  There was a horrified look on Mazen’s face as he gazed down at me for a second, utter terror in his eyes. “I’m not even going to comment on that!”

  My excitement died down. “Fine!” I pouted.

  “Menna,” Mazen said a second later, and something in my chest squeezed.

  “Oh.”

  “A gift from God,” we both said at the same time – the meaning of the soft name that my husband had just suggested.

  We both smiled. “I like it,” I said.

  “Really?” Mazen looked excited.

  “Yes. It’s perfect.” I smiled widely, and he responded with another kiss on my mouth.

  “Wonderful. Our first girl will be named Menna,” Mazen said, and I could only sigh; it was dreamy.

  “What if it’s a boy?” I asked.

  “You think it will be a boy?”

  “A healthy baby is all I want.” It was the truth, and I knew Mazen felt the same, but we still needed an heir, and if the baby inside me were a boy – that would be beyond perfection.

  “Amen to that, princess.”

  “Mazen … there’s only one name I want to call my son. I hope we both can agree on it,”

  “Of course, but you know the conditions. If it’s not offensive to Islam, then I can’t see why not,” he said with a small smile.

  “It’s not. I’ve always wanted to name my son after my grandfather. That was something I’ve wished I could do for as long as I can remember.”

  “Adam?” he asked, and I only nodded. “Adam,” he said again, as if testing the name on his tongue.

  Mazen was silent for a moment, and then he shifted his position slightly so that he could put his mouth near my stomach, before whispering, “Hello there, Menna, … or Adam. Daddy can’t wait to meet you.” He then kissed my little bump as happy tears filled my eyes.

  There was no way I could forget this moment. Ever.

  As I’d expected, getting the majority of the royal family to agree on the two bills wasn’t terribly hard. But sadly, it wasn’t a walk in the park either. I was lucky that the women outnumbered the men, and I quickly convinced the princesses of two generations to agree. But the men had a very tough time supporting it. They were thinking along the same lines as Mazen. They were afraid the Bedouins would start a civil war.

  The mood of the public on the day the new law was released and the other law was changed was unexpectedly calm. But I knew better than to think the Bedouins were indifferent. Of course, they’d take their time thinking.

  The next day, the media couldn’t stop talking about the new law, which promised seven to fifteen years of jail time to any person, male or female, who performed any act that causes physical harm to a female under the banner of honor. Banned practices included Common Deflowering and Female Circumcision. Punishments and penalties will consist of family members and any doctor or medical professional who are involved.

  At the last minute, Rosanna suggested that I add Female Circumcision to the bill. I absolutely had no idea that something like that existed. I only learned that this barbaric practice is performed on young girls starting at the age of eight.

  That information could have quickly sent me into a depression; the only thing that kept me from falling into a panic attack was the fact that I could help. And, I did help.

  The other law that changed wasn’t getting as much attention, but I believed it was just as important. It banned a rapist from marrying his victim.

  Through my research, I discovered the law that did lighten the punishment for the rapist if he married his victim. I couldn’t fix the unreported crimes of rape, also, not the ones fast pulled by the victim’s family when the ‘Rape and get Married for Free’ deal was made. That might have made the part I’d erased from the law useless, but it was something, at least.

  I wouldn’t stop trying though. Never would.

  The attention given by everyone to the new and updated laws was much appreciated. We needed people to know all about the new law, and the changes to the existing one before the month ended. That’s when the one-month notification period would expire then. Nobody would be able to claim they hadn’t heard about it.

  Two weeks later, I was sitting with Rosanna in my office as we discussed the finishing touches for the hospital. As she’d wanted, the official opening would be on my birthday. It had warmed my heart to know how much Rosanna cared about me and appreciated my efforts to help anyone I could.

  When the door opened abruptly, I was startled. Everyone knew better than to barge in without announcing themselves while Rosanna was here since she had her face cover removed, but it was only Manar, and she closed the door behind her a second later.

  “My apologies, Your Majesty,” she said, then turned to Rosanna. “My apologies, Your Highness.”

  “Is everything okay, Manar?” I asked, seeing the strange look on her face; she looked fearful.

  “Sheikh Omran’s son is on his way to the palace. He has made it through the first gates and now is being searched,” she said.

  “What?” Rosanna blurted out. “What brought him here?”

  “I’m not sure, Your Highness. But he told the royal guards that he came with a very important message.”

  A messenger. My mind was working fast on all of the possibilities that this ‘important’ message might contain.

  There was no doubt the new law would come up, but I had no idea if that message would be bad, or very, very bad.

  “All right. I’ll meet with him.”

  “You’ll what?” Rosanna asked in a shocked voice.

  “I’ll meet with him. What else should I do? He has a message to deliver,” I got up and fixed my jacket.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty,” Rosanna said, then left the office just like that.

  I didn’t have time to think about her reaction as the office was already filling up with managers and secretaries, one putting a scarf loosely over my hair and another getting me into high heels instead of the comfy shoes I was wearing.

  Not two minutes later, I exited my office, for I had to welcome the son of the Bedouin’s leader outside. But I stopped in my tracks when I saw Prince Fahd standing outside my office with my guards, his, and several extras.

  “Prince Fahd!” I said. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning to you, Your Majesty. I’m here to be with as you meet with the messenger.”

  I was slightly offended. “Thank you, Prince Fahd. But I believe I can do it on my own.”

  “There’s no doubt about that, Your Majesty. Forgive me,” he said, and then took
a step closer to me and spoke in a lower voice, “But if I don’t come with you, I might sleep on the couch tonight.”

  I chuckled lightly, understanding that this was Rosanna’s doing. She didn’t want me to take any risks.

  “All right, I wouldn’t want you to get such a cruel punishment.” I smiled, knowing very well that Prince Fahd was as protective of me as Mazen was. If Rosanna hadn’t run to tell him, Fahd would’ve come on his own. Even if he were to step back and remain silent during the meeting, he’d make sure to be there.

  It didn’t escape my notice that he positioned himself that way so as not to be offensive and also to lighten the palpable tension.

  “After you, Your Majesty.” Prince Fahd offered a small smile, and with a nod, I made my way to the foyer and waited for Sheikh Omran’s son to come through the inside gates.

  Not a minute later, the man in question stepped out from the driver’s side of the jeep, a frown on his hard features as he took steady steps towards us.

  “As-salamo Alikom,” he greeted with the Islamic greeting.

  “Peace be upon you, too, Sheikh Qapeel,” I replied in Arabic, using his name which I had learned two minutes ago. I knew better than to offer my hand for him to shake. Most of the men in the kingdom didn’t shake hands with women – for religious reasons – and I respected that. But what put me off was that he didn’t offer his hand to Prince Fahd either.

  That didn’t bode well.

  “Come inside, please. Honor us with having–”

  “I’m not here for food or drinks,” he interrupted, which was very disrespectful in and of itself. Although I didn’t say anything, I was sure Prince Fahd wouldn’t let the slight go by. However, he appeared completely calm. For now. “I’m here to meet King Mazen Alfaidy,” the Sheikh said, neither looking me in the eyes, nor in the respectable way of ‘averting the gaze’ – it seemed like he wasn’t giving a damn about my presence.

  “Well,” I said, “the King is not here. He’s out of the country, actually. You would’ve known this if we had been informed of this graceful visit beforehand, or if you’d actually listened to the news at any time during the past two days.”