The man in front of the line said, “Your Majesty,
your staff is accounted for.” Drake nodded, then smiled a crooked
smile while looking across the line ending with me. When his eyes
met mine, I felt a surge of energy rush through me. I was
captivated by his dark eyes and perfect face, and I looked away
before my admiration made itself known on my expression. Drake
turned in the other direction and passed by each person, looking
them deeply in the eyes. Once at the end of the line, he circled
behind us. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as he touched
each of the women on the shoulder, hesitating for a moment, then
passing to the next. I knew that their emotions didn’t change, so I
had no fear as he approached me; instead, I focused on a painting
of an older beautiful woman with green eyes on the wall in front of
me. I reasoned that if she moved, that meant that I was
swaying.
I heard Drake’s footsteps. He stopped behind me and
gently placed his hand on my shoulder; when he did, a warm
sensation swept through me, mesmerizing and blissful. I let out a
breath of relief that couldn’t be restrained, and Stella’s fear
rose as she heard it escape. When Drake moved his hand from my
shoulder, the pain hit me like the weight of the world. I stumbled
forward and fell to my knees, then Damien kicked me as hard as he
could in my side and screamed something at me that I couldn’t
comprehend through the pain. Seeing me on the floor without the
strength to stand, Stella broke rank and ran to my side – but the
man raised his hand to hit her.
Drake reached out and stopped him, then glared into
his eyes. He then looked at Stella; her emotion was near horror,
which matched the others. “Has he treated her this way all day?”
Drake asked.
Stella hesitated and nodded. “Worse,” she said,
looking down at me with tears in her eyes.
Drake’s jaw tightened, then he turned sharply to
Damien. “Have you let your hands wonder over something that does
not belong to you?” he said through his teeth.
“No, sir. They’re lying. They are nothing more than
savage traders. Send them with me; I will take this trash out for
you,” Damien said, glaring down at me.
I tried pushing myself away on the floor - even
though I knew any attempt to escape would be in vain. Drake let
Damien’s hand fall, then smiled. Damien smiled widely back at Drake
- and I closed my eyes, wishing for death. Suddenly, I heard a loud
punch, and I opened my eyes to see Damien lying on the floor next
to me. “I have been here less than an hour and already have cause
for an execution,” Drake growled through his teeth. The man’s face
hardened; Drake’s look was daring him to stand. “Take him,” Drake
said out loud. Two men in hoods approached and pulled Damien up,
then escorted him away. Drake looked to the hooded man at the other
end of the line and said, “Give the others their assignments.”
Drake reached down and gently picked me up, cradling
me in his arms; I sighed, feeling his touch and the relief from the
pain. I also felt the shock come from the others in the line. “Tell
Alamos I need him,” Drake ordered to someone. He then looked at
Stella and said, “You – come; you are keeping her calm.” As Drake
held me tight against his chest, the mesmerizing sensation
intensified, and another breath escaped as I found my relief. If I
had the nerve, I would have asked him never to let me go. I opened
my eyes to see him smiling, sure of himself. As the sensation
coursed through me, I felt every part of myself relax, and I
drifted away.
When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a large
bed covered in a canopy. To my right was a wall of windows, and
darkness was behind them. In front of the bed was a large doorway
that led to another room. I could see two men standing there,
wearing coats with hoods; one was very old, and the other was late
in his years as well. They were whispering, and they had no emotion
or feeling that I could feel. I felt Stella close to me. I had no
pain at all; I felt like a new person. I sat up, slowly making sure
that the dizziness was gone.
Stella was at my side immediately. “How do you
feel?” she whispered.
“I feel...really good,” I whispered. I then reached
for my stomach and sighed, feeling peace for the first time.
“Listen, they’re in the front room. They’ve been
asking me all kinds of questions. Don’t tell them about the
voices.”
“Do you think they know? Are they going to kill us?
Where’s Damien?” I asked in a panicky voice.
“Drake meant what he said – they executed him,”
Stella said, feeling grateful. I raised my eyebrows. “That’s never
happened before,” she said, smiling and tasting the revenge she
felt.
I searched my memory, trying to recall anything
before the storm; still nothing.
“Why do you think they’re being nice? Is this a
trick?” I asked
“I don’t know...we can’t trust any of them...I think
Drake likes you,” Stella said, blushing a little.
I looked in her direction; if I’d done my math
correctly, I was sure I was older than Drake - and I knew that
Stella alone was breathtaking.
“Does he realize...does he know about the
tumors?”
“I would guess he now knows more about your
condition than we do. The priests have been working on you
constantly. For a moment, I thought you were gone...but then you
took another breath and came back,” Stella said solemnly. I felt
her grief and relief all at once.
“Maybe they’re being nice to me to win you over,” I
said, looking down.
“No...Drake himself was in here...he never took his
eyes off you...just don’t trust him, OK?” She said, sure of
herself.
I tried to comprehend why someone so perfect
would take an interest in me. Why was I different? Then I
remembered the way his touch felt. “When he touched your shoulder,
did you feel anything?” I asked Stella.
She shook her head no, confused by my
question. “Did you?”
“Yeah, it felt warm...mesmerizing.”
My words scared her. “They say he has
powers...maybe he’s using them on you.”
“Powers?”
“I don’t know...they say they all have
them,” she mumbled.
The voices that were low in the other room
stopped, and the older man looked me dead in the eyes; he still
held no emotion. I knew then that Stella was right that we couldn’t
trust them.
When they saw that I was sitting up, they
walked slowly into the room, and their expression held a degree of
surprise. The older man came to my side and pressed his hand to my
forehead. “Your fever has broken,” he said in a hushed voice. I
nodded, and Stella scooted closer to me. “My name is Alamos, the
high priest,” he said. “Do you feel well?” I nodded. “Can you tell
me if you’ve dreamt the last few nights?” he asked in a sincere
tone.
I found the question odd. “No,” I answered
quietly.
“Have you heard any voices?” he asked. I
shook my head no. The man looked back at the younger one, who
turned quickly and left. “You must take your medicine hourly;
otherwise, the pain will resume,” he continued. I nodded. “I will
have them bring you food. Stay in the bed until daylight tomorrow.
I will be back then to check on your progress.”
Alamos looked at Stella, then walked away.
We heard the door close. Stella then stood and walked slowly,
inspecting the front room. She left my sight, but I stretched out
my sense of emotion and followed her as she explored. It must have
been beautiful; I could feel the astonishment coming from her.
Suddenly, I could feel others approaching.
“Stella,” I whispered harshly.
She ran back in the room on her tiptoes and
sat down at my side. The door in the front room opened, and I could
feel two people; they seemed harmless. The woman that had helped
balance me walked in the room, holding a large tray of food. She
smiled slightly, then placed the tray across my lap. Both mine and
Stella’s eyes widened as we looked at the food: the tray was full
of fruit, bread, potatoes, and what looked like a small
chicken.
One of the men that was with us earlier was
setting up a canvas in the front room, just a few feet from the
doorway. I watched as he laid out paint and brushes in front of it,
then looked at Stella; she was just as confused by it as I was. The
woman smiled at Stella, then she and the man left.
“I’ve never even seen food like this
before,” Stella said as she gazed at the tray. “I don’t care if you
don’t have an appetite – you’re going to eat this...this is like a
once in a lifetime opportunity,” she said as her eyes danced across
the tray.
I was confused by her comments. I was
certain that I’d seen this before; I even knew how everything would
taste. I found the childlike smile on Stella’s face somewhat
amusing. Her smile quickly left her, though, and fear rose. “You
don’t think it’s poison, do you?” she asked me.
“I’m sure if they wanted us dead, they’d
find a faster way,” I answered.
Stella’s excitement grew again. She reached
for a strawberry and slowly brought it to her lips, taking in the
smell before she tasted it; her joy was immediate. I was so happy
for her. I began to nibble on the bread, giving her every
opportunity to explore the other foods.
We finished dinner and lay in silence side
by side. Stella slowly drifted to sleep, full of peace. I watched
her closely, desperately trying to recall her before the storm.
With my pain gone now, I had a chance to reflect on the first
moments I could recall. Willow...was Willow trying to help me? What
did the voice in my head mean? “She’s already gone”…he knew about
my sickness...how is that possible? I regretted with every ounce of
my soul telling that voice to be quiet, and I seriously considered
not taking my pills so I’d be able to hear it again – but the
memory of the pain quickly took that desire away. I felt so alone –
out of place.
I stared through the open doorway at the
blank canvas, feeling called to it. The fear of saying or doing
something wrong hovered over me, and I tried falling asleep - only
to feel the canvas beckoning me. Reasoning to myself that looking
more closely at the paint would bring no harm, I slowly slid out of
the large bed I was in and tiptoed carefully so as not to make a
noise.
The front room was enormous. The wall to the
right was all windows, and moonlight covered with gray clouds
shined through, giving light to the elegant furniture and oil
paintings on the walls. I stepped closer to the canvas and eyed the
paint and the brushes. Looking back, I saw Stella still sound
asleep. I argued with myself that they’d brought the canvas and
food at the same time, which must mean that it was for us to use.
I’d managed not to get either of us killed so far; if I was wrong,
maybe I could work off the cost of the canvas and the paint.
My hands shook as I reached for the brush;
it felt natural in my hand. Suddenly, a flash of memory came to me:
a bright open room, a canvas by an open window. Peace and happiness
was all around me; I felt...loved. I tried to focus and call back
more memories, but my mind was weak, and all I could see was vague
darkness. Wanting to see color again, I reached for the paint, and
slowly - almost regretfully - I outlined the Estate that I’d walked
into that day. I made the walls a deep red brick, and I turned all
the balconies white. I then drew trees and flowers all around the
courtyard.
I was debating adding people when I heard
someone clear their throat. My breath left me, and every muscle in
my body tensed. Full of fear, I slowly glanced over my shoulder to
see Drake standing in the doorway. His mesmerizing dark eyes
captured mine, pulling me to face him, and I let my eyes fall
across his perfect image. My emotions were out of control; part of
me felt safe, almost loved in his presence - and the other part of
me was angry, vengeful.
Chapter Thirteen
Drake raised a finger to his lips, then
tilted his head in Stella’s direction. I followed his eyes and saw
her still sleeping soundly. He then reached his arm out, inviting
me out of the room. Feeling honored and beautiful by his undivided
attention, I wanted to go with him, so I pushed down the negative
feelings that were screaming at me and stepped cautiously forward.
I trusted Stella’s judgment, and I knew she wouldn’t want me to
leave her - but I told myself that he was the one in power and that
he held both my and Stella’s lives in his hands. I had to tell
myself to look down, not to stare at his perfect image.
The doorway led to a wide hallway. The
ceilings were high and arched over our heads, displaying
breathtaking images of angels and demons at war. Glossy tables and
elegant couches lined the walls between several doorways. I walked
alongside Drake, unsure of where he was leading me and wishing I
could feel him to know if I were in danger.
He looked down at me. “I was under the
impression that you were to stay in bed until daylight,” he said in
a mischievous tone.
“I...um...I must have slept too much during
the day...and I felt so much better, it seemed like a waste to lay
still,” I answered, apprehensive.
I heard him laugh quietly. “So, do you often
paint in the dead of night?” he asked.
“I don’t...,” I paused, not sure if they
should know that I couldn’t remember anything. I looked up to judge
his expression; he was a frustrating void to me. His beautiful lips
were turned into a slight grin, and his eyes captured mine once
again. I lost my breath...he was too perfect.
We walked to the end of the hallway and
turned left, and he opened the first door and extended his arm for
me to enter. I stepped inside the large room. Lining the walls were
blank canvases; some were small, others were large. There was a
table centering the room with hundreds of brushes and paints of
every color. “I was going to show this to you tomorrow - but after
seeing that painting, I couldn’t wait,” he whispered into the room.
I turned to see him smiling. I couldn’t comprehend what I could
have done to earn his favor.