The Lost Princess

Chapter 6

“So, what’s with my voice?”

My mother laughs as she walks me through the castle.

“There’s a bad witch out there, somewhere, who illusioned your entire life into something it was not. Including your English accent. The Blackmores have that accent, but certainly not us. Maybe your foster mother was a witch, who knows?” she says, but really talking to herself. I look at her questioningly.

“What is all of this talk about witches?” I raise an eyebrow at her.

She looks up nervously and says, “Oh, here’s the bedroom we’ve had prepared for you.”

I know that she’s trying to ignore the topic, but my mind is erased of the thought when she opens the door to the most magnificent room I’ve ever seen. Its huge!

It’s a pink and teal with black accents everywhere, a walk in closet, a very large full bathroom. There’s even an entire wall of books and a connected art studio room!

Holy shit.

“Language, honey.” She says, looking surprised.

“How did you know what I said in my head? Dad did that earlier! And how did I loved art? And reading?” Questions come shooting out and about from my mouth.

She walks over to my bed and smooths out the sheets, fluffing the pillows while she’s at it.

“The spell that Erin, the maid, put on you also allowed us to have a mind link. We can hear each others thoughts every once and a while, so even when we couldn’t find you out in the world, we were connected somehow. Art and reading was always in your mind.” She said with a smile. “We had this room prepared in case you ever returned. Thank goodness we did!”

I return her smile and sit in one of the cream-colored chairs near my bed. I cross my legs.

“I’m a princess? I’m a princess. Of Venera?” I begin talking to myself and my mother comes and sits next to me. “How come I’ve never heard of it before?”

“It’s an unmapped island. Quite large, but still unmapped.”

“Why is that?”

She pauses hesitantly before adding, “It’s safer that way.”

I open my mouth with a questioning face about to ask her another question, but she puts her hand on my shoulder and says, “Now your adoptive parents can’t take you away from us again, I know how terrible they were to you. There’s more to our story, but…just give us some time until we can inform you, alright honey? Just a little time?” she asks.

I smile and nod.

I could wait, actually. I want to learn about my new life here.

Just then, the Blackmores knock on the moulding of the door frame before entering.

Harry is with them.

My guard immediately goes up and I scoot back farther into my chair. I mean, I still don’t forget how cruel he was to me!

“Everything alright, princess?” the King asks, worried.

I glance over at Harry, who is peering over his father’s shoulder, with a little less hate and a little more concern in his eyes.

Fake concern, probably. Ass-wipe.

“Lovely, thanks!” I say, trying to sound chipper.

I still can’t get over this accent. Eh, I’ll get used to it.

“Alright then, your father has suggested that you two get to know each other..” The King adds, motioning towards his son. “Shall he show you around the rest of the castle?”

“If I can ask, how might he show me around if he doesn’t live here?” I ask, honestly questioning it. Are we roomies or something?!

Queen Blackmore giggles and answers, “As a part of the peace treaty, there was no reason to live in separate sides of Venera. So, we made one magnificent castle to join together the powers!” she said, sounding excited. I couldn’t help but smile, but it quickly vanished when I realized the reason for my question in the first place.

“Well, uhm, I was hoping I could spend more time with my mother and father so they could show me around?” I ask, turning to my mom and hoping for her to save me.

No such luck for Frankie.

“Nonsense, that’s a wonderful idea! The prince and princess should become more acquainted!” she says, clapping her hands together like a little girl.

Wow, I am definitely her daughter. I LOVE HER!

She pulls me up from my comfortable chair and brings me face to face with Harry, whose standing there with his arms crossed.

Which, might I add, is displaying his fit arms very beautifully.

Harry looks at his mother, and she gives him a ‘don’t play with me, boy’ look. So he sighs, turns around, and strides out of the room.

When I don’t follow, his head pops back around the door frame.

“Am I going to have to put a leash on you?” he asks, annoyed.

“Harry!” the Queen reprimands him. “Excuse him, princess, he’s a bit of an ass sometimes.” She says with a wink. I giggle and follow the ‘ass’ out of the room.

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He’s just pointing to rooms.

No explanations, no anything. He’s been pointing to rooms angrily for 10 minutes.

“Study room.” He says, pointing to a room with books and leather couches.

“Green room.” He says, pointing to a, well….green room.

I’m about to lose my freaking mind on this boy!

“Why do you hate me so much? I haven’t fucking done anything to you!” I accidentally say out loud.

FUUUCCCCCKK.

He practically leaves skid marks on the marble floors as he comes to a halt. He spins around dead-fast to look down at me. These are the times when I wish I was taller.

“Excuse me?” he spits.

His breath smells like spearmint, and the rest of him smells like oranges and musk. I do everything in my power not to sniff his shirt

Although, it’s very tempting.

I remember the situation I’m in and swallow hard.

“Why do you hate me? I don’t understand why.” I say in a shaky voice, stepping away from him a little. “I just got here and I already have someone hating me.” A sudden burst of anger comes from within my and I stand up straighter. “I dealt with that at home with my foster parents and I don’t need it here in my new life!”

I regret that last sentence.

Seconds later, we’re somehow in a closet. A pitch black closet.

I hear him reach up and pull the chord to a small light bulb. It flicks on and I practically scream when I see how close his angry face is to mine.

“You don’t know, do you? You haven’t been told?” he asks in a husky voice.

“Told what?” I ask dumbfounded.

He rolls his eyes and says, “Then it’s not my place to tell you. You’ll find out soon enough.” He finishes, looking at the wall.

“Find out what?!” I begin to shout.

He covers my mouth with his hand and I fight not to melt under his touch.

“Let’s just say, you’ve ruined my life already.” He says, holding up the hand with our matching scars.

Despite my pure confusion, my heart feels as if its just been stabbed. Multiple times.

He doesn’t take the time to look at the hurt on my face when he opens up the door and says, “Let’s finish this damn tour, yeah?”