Crystal clear

Chapter 12

Falling. And warmth. I remember warmth when I lost consciousness. It was like I was being cradled by the water...wait, I was. I slipped. My grip wasn't strong enough I guess. But it feels as though I'm in... I don't know, a dream. I guess when I fell I died. I must have. Or maybe it was all a dream. A figment of my imagination to make me feel special.

But when you fall you wake up, right? Because otherwise you'd actually die. Because your brain can only guess at what really happens. No one truly knows. Even those who say they do don't know. They'll believe whatever they believe to be true. Then why didn't i wake up? It was a dream...wasn't it?

-

I hear soft murmurs as I was carried. Alexanders strong arms were wrapped around me, carrying me somewhere. I don't remember him saving me. I just know he did it.

"Thank you for bringing her home. You can rest now, you seem tired Alexander," a man's voice said.

"I am. But I'd like to see her to complete safety before I retire for the night." Alexander said strongly.

"Of corse. I would expect nothing less," the man said.

"Thank you my king." My heart stops. Which...king. The one Cheyenne and Damien serve? What if Alexander really just betrayed me?

-

I sit up and shout in surprise when a plump little woman in a pink flowery dress pops out of nowhere. I feel a stiffness throughout my body, pulling me back to the bed. I lay in an elaborate bedroom that looks more like the size of the entire main floor of my house. I pinch myself, not believing this is real. Ouch...So this isn't a dream. Fan-freaking-tastic.

"Nice to see you conscious after the last two days." She says plastering a wide smile over her face. "The King and Queen will want to see you when you feel well enough to speak. If you need another day for recovery they can come here. but you must be presentable." She chides as though I have any idea what on earth is going on.

"I was unconscious for two days!" Was all I could muster, or understand.

"Technically one and three quarters of the day but that's a technicality." She smiles.

"Not harassing the poor girl anymore then you have to, are we June?" A man scolds, his thick Scottish accent drowning most of his words to my ears at first. He chuckles at my dumbfounded look.

I recognize him, but I don't know why. I've met him before, or seen him. Maybe I only heard his voice, I don't know! All I know is he seams familiar to me. The man is tall, taller than most. He wears a shaggy black mop on top of his head and has the ghost of a beard. His eyes are a silver with the inner most of his iris a deep blood red. His pale complexion looks as white as snow under the yellow and blue lights in the room. He stands in a black cloak, with a black fur hat in his hand. A navy blue shirt is wrapped in white leather straps, crisscrossing his chest and lower abdomen. His boots are slightly heeled, for horse riding. They're the same black his coat is. As deep as the night sky. His pants, black like the rest of his outfit, fall over most of his boots, revealing only the bottom half of an animal. I strain my neck and decide it's most likely a lioness.

"Ouch girl! I would have expected more recognition then chopped liver!" He jokes.

I know him. I'm sure of it. But I don't know how. My brain scampers around looking through the imaginary cupboards I like to think I keep all of my thoughts in. Little workers tell me when to think of something. All because of a comedian friend...of the families. Bart! The mans name is Bart! He's a family friend I haven't seen in years, though I suppose he was more likely assigned to watch over me if something went wrong in the adoption stuff seeing as he's here.

"I can see those workers of yours running around in your big head. Have I clicked yet?" Bart asks. All I can do is nod because I thought he was dead. He had supposedly been killed in the car crash that my parents died in.

My hand twitches to my right thigh. when my parents car was t-boned, the only thing I have neglected to mention to anyone is that I was in the car when everything happened. Giving me an involuntary nervous twitch whenever I speak or think of the wreckage. "Bart." I mumble, still amazed.

"Good gods lass! You look like you've seen a ghost. Don't you know few people," he mumbles his name, "have actually died. You know, that you thought are dead." He laughs at my befuddled expression, "what did those idiots Alexander and Stiren teach a?"

"Not much," I admit.

"Well, we'd better get the King and Queen down here ASAP then, Eh?" The one thing about Bart, was that he was born in Scotland and lived there till he was 18, then he moved here. So he speaks with both Scottish slang and some Canadian slang. Which would really through you off if you didn't know.

"Bart, get out! She needs her rest!" June snaps.

"She also needs to eat and needs human interaction! The last time she ate was ova two days ago." Bart snaps back moving awfully close to her face.

"She ate before she came. didn't you?" She asks turning to me for support. I look at her and numbly shake my head. "WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU ATE?! IM GOING TO WRING ALEXANDER AND TROW HIM OFF THE TERRACE!" She shouts storming out of the room to, presumably, do just that.

"Something I said?" I ask letting out a shaky breath. I push myself, with all of my energy, so I sit on the edge of the soft bed to look at Bart on an even plane. "So, who else should I know about?"

"That's it. But I should warn you, when you talk with the King and Queen, hold your tongue. And forget everything you think you know, because they will throw a knife strait down the middle of what you think you know. Nothin' you know to be true, or almost nothin', is reality. Now get some rest. You'll need it."