The Prince's Escape

Chapter 11 || You Alone Can Help

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He just left for the only bed in the house. No, please, your highness, I insist you have the bed. No, really you should. I mean you've only been lounging all day. You really should put your feet up and have a nice rest after all that. I huff, as I move to clean the plates. I see that he actually did do something, today, the bucket is filled with water. It's been a long day, and I feel the stress of the day beginning to take its toll on me, but I fight against it. I want to look around, I don't know when I'll be back. 

I wandered back into the where my doll lies, and at last, pick her up. The once white clothed bonnet has stains from me taking her everywhere. Her squishy body fits perfectly in my hands. Her green dress was taken from a little fabric mama had because Annabell needed to have two dresses. Her eyes are sown little x's with a small uplifted line creates her lips. Papa used to say that Gramgram had made the smile after the first time she saw me smile. It was all I had of her and I loved it. The day Papa got sick, I threw her to the rug and ran. It was the last day I spent in my house, and the last day I saw Papa lifted me into his arms. "Take care of your mama," he had whispered to me. He was gone that night. Mama followed soon after. 

I laid Annabell on my mama's table, as I bent down to take Papas sword out of the floorboards mine was too small for me now. I decide to hold on to it in case that madman comes back again. Is he the reason my father fought? 

And then, there was the man snoring lightly from the bed. One moment he's irritating me to no end, but then the next moment he's sincere and kind. When he was talking about his mother he is seemed more lost than I knew. I want to help him, but I don't know how. And the way his blue eyes held mine when he said I puzzle him. I wanted to be mad so that's what I did, but he wasn't being a prat he was being honest. It was one of the few times I've seen that side of him and I'm really starting to like it. Perhaps more than I should. I try to shake the thoughts out of my head, as I move to the chest to retrieve some of my parent's old blankets. I lay them on the floor, piling them on top of one another until it looks comfortable. Then, I lay on my makeshift bed, throwing my coat over to provide warmth. Soon, the warmth is cradling me into a welcomed sleep. 

"My dear", Papa's voice speaks to me. "A storm is coming."

"What do you mean?" I try to ask the voice, but I'm left with nothing.  

"You alone can help him." Before I can ask any questions I feel the presence of him vanishes into the darkness he came from.  

"Papa, come back," I try, but I know it is futile. I'm in a dream, and he won't come back. I will be forced to decipher the meaning on my own, as I have done time and time again. I release the thought as I am brought to the dreams. The magical portals of fiction my mind gives me.

It's midday, Luca is spending his day walking the village collecting his thoughts and clearing his mind, while I spend the day in the stables. I'm about to start brushing Faera when I hear the doors open. Unlike last time, I search to see who my intruder is. I see the familiar cloak of Davis and know its Luca.  His hood is carefully covering his face, as he walks in at a relaxed pace. I could be wrong, but I see a light hop in his step. Is this the real Luca? The one that's not the future of the Kingdom? "What are you doing here?" I ask, but he's too busy smiling. He surprises me as he grabs a carrot meant for the horse and takes a large bite out of it. He didn't care that it wasn't washed. He didn't scream at the task of dirt, who the hell is this man? "Um, what are you doing?"

He doesn't worry about the bits of orange in his mouth as he shrugs, "I wanted to help. I mean, It seems kind of fun being with them," he added, pointing to the horses beside me.