“Did you just say something?” I nod but see his face and realise he needs confirmation for himself. I gulp nervously. This is making me more anxious than I thought.
“Yes. Please wait,” It comes out louder than I thought in the silence, and we both jump at the sound.
“Did you . . . you just . . . . I’ll, I’ll go get Melody.” Julian stutters before practically sprinting out of the room.
I sit there stunned. My voice sounds so different than I remember, softer, deeper, more melodious, like Mothers. It’s been years since I’ve spoken of my own accord, properly. Years since I’ve actually heard my own voice in a place I can really take notice of it.
Of course, it would have changed since I was little. It must have.
The door opens as Miss Melody and Julian burst through. She looks flustered and hopeful.
“Julian, he said,” Miss Melody licks her lips and tries to calm down slightly, “You talked?” “Yes,” My voice doesn’t shock me quite so much, so I watch Miss Melody’s reaction curiously.
A big grin splits her face in two, it’s the happiest I think I’ve ever seen her. “You did! Oh my. Does this mean you are ready to talk to us?” This in a more subdued and serious tone of voice.
I stare down at the sheets picking my words carefully, “Some of it,” I look up, “The important part,” Miss Melody’s smile widens, if that’s even possible.
“Great!” she exclaims, “That’s all we wanted,” They sit down and look at me expectantly.
I swallow tensely; now for the moment of truth. Will they even believe me? This is the closest to the truth I can tell them, but it’s still so unlikely. Will they trust I’m telling them the truth?
“Okay, I’ll start from the beginning. I don’t know if you have noticed, but I wasn’t born in Australia. I come from Europe; a small country called xxxxxxxxx. My family was high up in the government, advisors to the King and Queen, they were also good friends.”
I stop here to see how they are taking my first statement. Melody looks a trifle unsure, but gestures for me to continue. Julian, on the other hand, is watching me with narrowed eyes; leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees, watching for deceit. It’s a good thing I decided to tell them a half truth, they would never believe that I was actually a royal.
“They had a daughter, the Princess and my best friend. We were practically raised together.”
And we were, except I’m the princess and she’s the traitor. “There was another advisor who didn’t like the Royal family, and he and his family planned to betray them and take the throne. He did.”
My voice cracks slightly at the end. I need to hurry through the rest of this. Even though it’s not the exact truth, it’s bringing back lots of memories, bad memories.
“They killed the royal family and took mine captive. They pretended my family murdered the royals and got my parents executed. I managed to escape with the help of a loyal guardsman.”
My breath is coming faster now. The panic rising. I fight it back. Force my mind away from the last horrific images of my parents.
“He sent me to Australia for political asylum, this being the last place they would look for me. The reason I did what I did is because I need to get back home. Show up those traitors for who they are and put the Princess’s cousin, the next in line, on the throne. Show my people that my family did nothing wrong,”
My voice heats up but I quickly calm myself down. I haven’t spoken that much in years.
I keep my eyes on my hands. I can’t look up and see their expressions. I just can’t. I can’t deal with the disbelief and disappointment if they don’t believe me. It’s one of the main reasons I never told anyone the full, true, story.
After a long silence, Melody speaks, “As unlikely as your story seems, you’ve shown the most emotion I think I’ve ever seen from you.”
I look up slowly to see her gazing at me with a soft expression, “I believe you Snow, and I want to help you any way I can.”
I freeze. Even though this was one of the outcomes I predicted, the one I hoped for, it still hits hard to hear somebody finally saying those words. And meaning it.
No one has said those words to me before, not really--not in 10 long, lonely, years. For someone to say they believe me. That they want to help me, me?!
I don’t deserve help from anyone, not anymore.
They said if I told them the truth, they’d do their best to help me--but being me, I didn’t believe them. How could I? After all I’ve been through, to think someone could listen to me, believe me, and then still want to help me!? I didn’t think it was possible.
Of course, people have said those words to be before, without meaning or truth. Especially at the beginning.
I’ve heard people lie so often, about believing me, helping me. Empty words from my foster parents, government officials, therapists, even complete strangers, and I never once believed them. I didn’t trust them and why should I?
I always knew they weren’t telling the truth.
But yet, right here, right now, looking at her honest, determined, slightly relieved, happy face. I do.
Against all my instincts, beliefs, all of my past experiences that tell me all people do is lie--I want to believe her. And I don’t know why.
Julian, in contrast, is still staring at me with distrust. It’s like he can tell from my face that I’m not telling the truth. That I’m weaving a web of deceit around a ribbon of truth.
“I agree that your story seems fake.” The panic in me rises again. If he manages to convince Melody that I’m lying, I may end up in an even worse situation than I already am.
“But,” he continues, “because of that very fact I am inclined to believe that you are telling the truth, or closer to the truth than if you had told us a perfectly believable story to start off with. The less convincing the story, the more likely its actually the truth.”
Relief floods my body, but I force my face to resume its blank state as they leave. The time for emotions is over. They don’t need any more insight into what I am feeling. No more peeking at my cards.
To think that soon I’ll be in my home country again. I’ll see my city, my people, my land again. I wonder if it’s changed--how much it has changed. How my cousin Anna, the next in line after me, has grown up: she is a year younger than me.
My little sister I called her.
People used to nick name the Royal family. I was called Snow-White, for obvious reasons, as well as my mother.
Whereas Anna was called Aurora. She looked like the classic fairy-tale princess, all long blonde curly hair, and sweet demeanour. Though she had more than her share of determination and courage when she needed it.
After what I’ve done, what I plan to do, I don’t deserve the throne--I have no right to rule.
Not anymore, not after everything. The people need someone else, deserve someone better, sweeter, nicer.
Someone like Anna.
That’s my plan anyway, to put Anna on the throne instead of me--she went through the same royalty training I did. She has as much right to rule and knowledge on how to rule as I did, before.
Melody stops by and drops off some of my clothes so I can finally get changed out of what I must assume, is Julian’s shirt.
It’s scary how simple things, like wearing your own clothes, can affect you so much. After I get changed, I feel tougher, harder, more like myself. Like Raven Queen, the powerful fighter.
Less like the defenceless Snow, Melody seems to see me as, despite all evidence to the contrary. I feel refreshed and eager to leave when Melody and Julian stop by with an announcement.
“You look much better already Snow.” Melody exclaims with wonder. Julian on the other hand eyes me with apprehension.
I look much more like the dangerous fighter who got him out of hell, now that I’m wearing my own clothes. I like that look. At least somebody knows not to trust me.
It’s a relief to me, but it should be a concern. I can’t help but feel that if he doesn’t trust me, he may get through this with less chance of danger. If he’s keeping an eye on me, and thinking over my ideas looking for where I could double cross him. At least he’ll be more ready than Melody when everything goes south, as it must, and will be all the safer for it.
“I think you’re definitely ready to go home, don’t you think Julian?” He nods silently, his eyes never leaving mine.
I follow Miss Melody out quietly. On the inside I’m conflicted, though I try ignore it and push it away.
I hate the fact that I have to use Melody and Julian. To be fair, Julian weighs less on my mind then Melody. She has absolutely no idea what she is getting herself into, and always seems to see the best in people.
Even me.
Even though I’ve given her no reason to. Even after hearing Julian’s account of me in hell two nights ago, and all I did there.
It confuses me how she can trust someone she barely knows--and who has lied to her--so easily.
I guess I did the same once—trusted people--but that was when I was a mere child. I was kept cloistered inside the palace walls, let out only for special events--I knew nothing of the real world.
All my friends were carefully chosen for me, children of diplomats who were loyal to the crown, or so we thought. Look how that turned out, my best friend, the only one besides my parents I actually truly trusted, betrayed me, tortured me and abandoned me.
When I get back to xxxxxxxxx I’m going to find her, and I’m going to kill her. I am quite ready to spill blood to avenge my family and the innocent girl I was--especially hers.
Let them all witness the monster they created.
I’m in the room Melody gave me in her house, packing everything I will need. On the ride over they gave me back my winnings, my mask, and told me they booked two tickets for Monday--three days away. Luckily, they asked me first and I convinced them I’d already bought a ticket.
If I bought a ticket to my homeland, under my real name, it would have been flagged immediately. They would have known I was alive, and the element of surprise would be gone.
Tonight, I need to go and pay for my fake passport. I’d already got it all set up in preparation for my trip, now I just need to go pick it up and pay for it. I’ve got to keep this on the downlow, though, this is something Melody and Julian really don’t need to know about, and no doubt they wouldn’t approve.
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