S.T pulls into a deserted parking lot and Melody looks around at our dilapidated surroundings anxiously,
“This isn’t our destination, is it?” When no one replies she gulps nervously, “It, ah, doesn’t look very safe.”
I fix a light-hearted smile on my face and turn to face her, “That’s why we have Samuel and Julian. No one would dare mess with them!”
For any outsider observing our little group would have no clue that the most dangerous person in it was the small, delicate looking girl.
And that’s just how I like it.
As we all pile out, I glance at Julian with apprehension; he’s been very quiet since we meet S.T, and I have no idea why. It’s worrisome.
I know he doesn’t trust me, and I sure as heck don’t trust him. I wish I knew what was going on in his head, but his face is unreadable. Is he making a plan to betray me, or is he just following along to gain information and then betray me? Whatever he’s planning, or thinking, I must always be on guard and ready for whatever he throws at me.
All this runs through my head as S.T leads the way to an old abandoned building next to the parking lot. The entrance into the underground is not all that different to the entrance to hell, back in Australia. It makes me expect the same type of establishment--but once inside, I can tell it’s nearly the complete opposite.
Instead of a den of iniquity, it looks to be more of a refugee camp. Many people crowd in the open space, and, through some open doors, I see what looks like makeshift homes all shoved into one room, to make space for others.
S.T traverses through the crowed hallways with ease until we come upon a much larger and (to my utter relief) emptier room.
“This is the revolutionaries’ headquarters, where Mar—where the royal ladies and the higher officials live. I’ll introduce you to a few people, then, if you don’t mind, I’d like to catch up with ‘Amelia’,” he chuckles apparently amused at my fake name, when in reality expertly hiding the fact that he’s not sure what to call me. “It’s been a while, you understand.”
Melody smiles understandingly before Julian can interject. I smile inside as I see her hand on his arm, clearly holding him back from expressing his negative opinion.
I wait while S.T gets Melody and Julian settled, and survey the rest of the room interestedly. Most wear tattered clothes, and look to have done hard work for a living, but I can still see the arrogance and confidence that nobles are born with. A few are more lavishly clothed, and seem to be leading an easier life then the rest—but I see no envious or resentful looks cast their way. In fact, they seem to look up to them with respect and admiration. I will have to ask S.T about the reason for that later.
S.T leaves Melody and Julian with a group of people and leads me into a small private room. He locks the door before taking a small handheld gadget out of this pocket, and sweeping the area for electronic bugs.
“All clear.” He turns to me putting the sweeper away into his jacket pocket. “It’s safe to talk in here.”
He motions me towards the table and chairs in the middle of the otherwise empty room and we sit face to face.
He sighs and leans his elbows on the table with a small smile, “It’s been ages Princess. How have you been?”
The look he gives me spells out his concern—on the drive here I noticed him sneaking peeks at me constantly. Being the only one who knows my full backstory and all the horrors contained in there, he of course is worried for my welfare. More so probably, because of my apparently emotionless state, except for the fake emotions used to manipulate others.
He’s the only one who truly knows me--the only one I remotely trust—so I do him the curtesy of not faking any emotions.
“As you said, S.T, it’s been a while. It’s nice to see you again.” I hear the dullness in my tone and wince inwardly; the princess he knew was joyous, happy, had never known any sorrow. He only saw me briefly after he rescued me; and then I was basically comatose and unresponsive.
He’s definitely not expecting my new personality. He doesn’t show any shock though, or any pity—he just continues as usual.
“What do those people know?” He starts when I don’t say anything else.
“That my name is Raven Snow, my parents were nobles killed with the royals when the traitors took the palace.”
He nods, “And you want your identity to stay a secret until you can reclaim the throne.”
“NO!” I growl my temper getting the best of me. I quickly squash it and continue in a softer tone, but not before I see the flash of shock and confusion on S.T’s face at my outburst.
“No. I have no wish for a country to rule. The throne can go to Anna.” She deserves it, I whisper in my head. S.T frowns but doesn’t press the issue, he moves on though he’s eyeing me more uncertainly than before.
“Do you have an idea on how to keep your identity hidden from Anna and Mari?” he questions, “They are your family, they know what you look like. We can’t change your name or your friends will get suspicious.” He frowns staring at me thoughtfully, “The lost princess Raven-Snow is remembered and loved by everyone. No one can forget your multicoloured eyes.”
I smile at him; I’ve already thought of this and there’s an easy solution. “Yes, but do they know poor orphaned Raven? A low noble who lived in the palace and was tortured by the Castovias before being rescued by you?”
As I speak, I pull out my neatly tied up hair and arrange it to cover my royal genetic green eye. I wipe away my makeup to uncover my scar, pulling all the attention to it instead of my facial features. When seen most people will only notice and remember the scar, it…. sort of grabs your attention. Haha.
“I doubt even Aunt Mari or Anna could recognise me like this.” I don't think even my parents would, “The last time they saw me I was a little girl. I’ve changed a lot since then, and they all think I’m dead. No one is expecting me to walk in. People see what they expect to see.”
S.T stares at my transformation amazedly, “Even I would have a hard time recognising you like this—and I already knew about the scar. But what are your friends going to say when they see you like this?”
He frowns again, trying to figure out a way to explain my new appearance, I laugh lightly and save him the trouble.
“No need to explain, this is how I normally look. I dressed up for your employer.”
S.T eyes me in bewilderment and sorrow, “You’ve changed so much, Princess Snow.”
My face hardens into a glare, did he not expect change? Surely he realised, after all I went through, that I wouldn’t be the same as before I lost everything!? I lose my temper.
“Surely you didn’t expect me to be little innocent, naïve princess Snow!? After everything I’ve found out about the world, she’d never survive here! But me, tough, dangerous, underground fighter, Raven? She’s exactly who I should be, she's what we need.”
S.T ignores my entire rant to fix on the most irrelevant piece of information I provided. Typical.
“Underground fighter!?” he stares at me horrified, “Tell me that’s just a figure of speech.”
That’s all it takes for me to snap completely, I stand abruptly, my chair slamming into the wall behind me and glare at him, leaning over the table to pin him in his chair.
“So, what of it’s true!? I needed to survive and learn. How am I supposed to k—to take down the Castovias if I can’t fight? That’s how they got me before.”
S.T stares at me, fear flickers in his eyes causing my stomach to swirl but I ignore it and continue.
“You don’t seem to get it, Samuel,” the use of his full name causes him to flinch—I’ve drawn a line. “I’ve grown up. It’s been years since you last saw me and so much has happened in that time. So much you don’t know about. It’s made me who I am today. You don’t have to approve of or even like me. But you need me, so you just have to work with me until this is all over. And once it is, once the Castovias get their due—you’ll never have to see me again.”
I turn and stalk out the room, leaving Samuel sitting in his chair--a stunned expression on his face--and go hide. I find a shadow and just blend, melt into the background; out of sight, danger, out of people’s minds—their blasted consciences!
I think back to what I just said to Samuel, and wince. As much as I hate what I said, what I did to him, the fact that I lost control of my emotions and hurt him. It makes leaving when this is over, when I’ve done what I need to do, so much easier. I’ve severed the last thread to my past self, my past life.
Nothing can stop me now.
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