Missing Royal (2 page)

Read Missing Royal Online

Authors: Konstanz Silverbow

Star calms down again, so I continue forward. I sigh and laugh out loud, now only ten steps away from it. Valentino isn’t in sight, which means Star and I have won.

I dismount and walk around Star, wanting to see if there is anything beyond this rotting gate. A tall stone wall holds it up, only a piece visible due to all the greenery covering it. It appears that the other side of the gate is exactly the same—simply forest. I’m so curious as to what lies behind there, why this gate is here. Surely someone knows. I lift my hand and edge closer to touch the rusted iron flowers and vines that intertwine through the gate.

“Don’t!” The silence broken by his panicked scream, I turn around, startled out of my wits. “Don’t touch the gate.” Valentino rushes toward me, jumping from his horse and grabbing my hand, which is frozen in midair.

“What’s wrong? I was just looking.” I tilt my head, confused as to why he is so protective of it.

“Just don’t touch it, all right? It’s said to be haunted, and I would hate for you to get cursed.” He smiles wide, laughing it off as a joke. But his eyes remain serious. I know he’s lying—I just don’t understand why.

I brush it off. He doesn’t want to talk about it—that’s fine. It doesn’t mean I’m not curious about it. I take one last fleeting glance at the gate before turning my full attention back to him. “You lost the race. Now you have to clean Star’s stall for a week.” I punch his arm lightly.

“We never agreed to that.” He folds his arms across his chest.

“You know the winner gets to choose the loser’s punishment.” I wink, spinning on my heel and putting my foot in the stirrup before throwing my other leg over Star’s back. I expect Valentino to follow my lead and mount but he doesn’t. Instead, he fidgets with his hands.

I bite my lower lip, unsure what he’s doing. “Valentino,” I begin. But he cuts me off.

“Would you—” He starts. I’m ready to hang on his every word, hoping he asks the one thing I’ve been desperate for someone to ask me. But instead, he shakes his head and mounts Knight, his dapple horse.

“Yes?” I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to say it.

“Never mind.” He turns to ride down the path I came.

I try to hide my frustration but I can’t hold in the sigh. Just as I do, a gush of wind bursts through the trees. It startles the horses, sending Star and Knight pulling to leave as fast as possible. Valentino tenses and looks at me wide-eyed.

I look to the sky. All I see are trees. I didn’t know gusts of wind could go through a forest like that. And for how calm the weather has been, it’s out of place. “Are you feeling all right?” Valentino watches me with concern. He squints, a frown on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” I look to him before taking in our surroundings. That one gust of wind was out of the ordinary but it didn’t hurt me.

“We should be getting back,” he says, but then he doesn’t move either. I’m so confused—frustrated and crushed at his inability to ask his question. I nod and allow him to lead the way. He takes a longer path than I did before.

Neither one of us say a thing as we ride toward the stables. Every break I can find in the foliage above, I look up. I realize the sky has turned from clear blue to stormy gray.

But the closer we get to the stables, it looks like the downpour isn’t going to happen. The clouds part and reveal blue skies again.

We arrive to the stables far too soon. I think about what Valentino said. I think I would’ve preferred he say nothing at all. We were having so much fun. I don’t know why he feels he can’t ask me what we both know he was going to ask. I just wish he would figure it out.

As soon as I’ve brushed Star and given her food and water, I grab my backpack from its hook and head to the door. “I’d better get home.” I walk out the door, not bothering to wait for a reply. I don’t even wait to see if he heard me.

I just walk, my bag slung over one shoulder. On days like this, I wish my parents would allow me to have a car. Or borrow a car. I’d even settle for allowing me to drive a car. But they believe walking is far better for me. They are the most anti-tech people I know.

I just wish I had a quick escape.

“Shanice! Wait!” I look back, already a block from the stables, and there’s Valentino. He’s rushing after me, his jacket slung over his shoulder as if he was in such a hurry to catch up to me that he didn’t have time to put it on. It makes me smile, considering how chilly it is.

I stop walking while he runs the last few feet. Once we’re standing face-to-face, all is silent but the cool breeze. I don’t know what to say, and it appears neither does he. A shiver crawls up my spine as I wait, agonized by the awkward silence.

“Here.” He puts the jacket over my shoulders rather than his own. “May I walk you home?” I mentally take back everything I just thought about having a quick escape.

We walk side by side, close enough that we continue to bump into each other. Neither of us takes a step away. I almost grab his hand but with the way he wouldn’t finish his question earlier, I decide against it. No need to go and ruin yet another perfect moment.

Now I just wish it took longer to get from the stables to my house. “You did well today. Star has grown fond of you. I remember a time she wasn’t always so fond of you.” Valentino bumps my shoulder.

I have to laugh with him. I look into his eyes. The smirk on his face is heart-melting. “I knew I would win her over. I always do.” My foot catches on something and I lurch forward. His muscular arm wraps around my waist, spins me around, and puts me back on my feet.

“Thank you.” I look away, embarrassed. He doesn’t let go immediately but he nods and continues on as if nothing happened. “Well, I’m glad you’ve won her over. Things would be far more difficult if she didn’t like you.”

I raise my eyebrows in question but not wanting to make the same mistake twice, I decide facing him while walking isn’t the best idea. “What do you mean?”

He makes a sweeping gesture with his arm. “We have arrived. I bid thee farewell and good night, milady.” He bows and kisses my hand before leaving me on my front porch, still wearing his jacket, still confused. I watch him walk away, hands in his pockets, whistling with the wind in a cheery tune.

I shake off the feeling of confusion that overtakes me and go inside. The first thing I do is take his jacket to my room and hang it up so I can return it tomorrow. I dump my bag on my bed and go in search of supper.

“Hey, sweetie. You’re home early.” My mother greets me as I walk through the kitchen door. She plants a kiss on either cheek before going back to cooking. I take in her food - stained apron, the way her brunette hair is pulled into a bun on her head. I touch the ends of my own hair, boggled at how both my parents’ hair is brown while mine is the brightest coppery red. “I had to leave school early, so I went to the stables and rode with Valentino,” I state calmly, matter-of-fact-like.

“Did you have a good lesson?” My father sets down his newspaper on the dining room table and looks at me, waiting for an answer. I feel like I’m in an old TV show. The whole setting is right for it.

“Valentino says I’ve improved.” Though I’m not sure on what. “And Star is completely relaxed with me now.” I don’t mention the odd happening at the gate as I sit down across from my father and my mother sets three plates on the table. I think of the first time I rode Star. She was most definitely not relaxed. She wasn’t nervous, just antsy, always moving. She never wanted to slow down. It terrified me.

“That’s wonderful! And what about school?” Mom asks, a grin spread ear to ear on her face, not a freckle in sight on her skin—whereas my cheeks and nose are dotted with them. I want to pretend school never happened. Will never happen again.

“I had to leave early today.” I’m so sick of those words but it’s all I have to say. They never ask me what excuse I used or how early I left. They know I only leave early when the taunting becomes too unbearable. Or when the voices become louder.

Oh, the voices. As far as I can tell, most parents would have their kids locked up in loony bins if they said they were hearing voices. But not my parents. They hate it but they accept it.

If I said I thought they were ghosts, my parents would nod in agreement. If I said they were spirits watching over me, my parents would agree. If I told them they were trying to steal me away and take me who-knows-where, my parents would agree.

I don’t understand it. I don’t understand any of my life. It just doesn’t make sense.

“So, any big plans for your birthday?” my father asks, interrupting my current train of thought. And as much as most kids love their birthdays, that’s another sore spot for me.

“Not really. I have school that day, and an extra lesson with Valentino.” I wish I could say I was having a party or going out with friends. But in this case, I’m having a horseback riding lesson with my one and only friend and nothing else. And while I’m actually pretty happy with that, I still wish I had more.

“We thought perhaps the three of us could do something. You know, go out to eat? Maybe go shopping? We could even see a movie!” My mother almost bounces in her seat in excitement talking about it.

Shopping, dinner, a movie—I’m a little lost. This is coming from the woman who believes all technology is evil, spending money on things you don’t need is pointless, and why would you ever pay for an already made meal when you can make one yourself? – Though technically my dad does the cooking.

“Mom, you really don’t have to do that. We could just stay in.” I like the sound of that so much better.

“Actually, your mother and I want to take you out. You’re growing up fast and we’ll only have a few chances to really spend time with you before you’re all grown up and leaving us.” My father pats my hand and smiles. I swear there are tears in his eyes.

Maybe I
am
being locked up. Perhaps they realized that hearing voices really isn’t normal. Either way, I’m going into panic mode.

“Dad, where would I be going? I’m not leaving you guys right away. And when I do go to college, I’ll probably stay close by anyway.” I offer my two cents in hopes of prying more information out of them.

“Oh, no. We just want to make sure you have a grand birthday before you’re grown up and it’s too late. Let us give you the royal … ” Her voice catches. “… treatment for your birthday just this once, please?” She widens her eyes, tears glossing them over.

“I would love that. Thank you.” I can tell by both of their expressions that I’m really not going to get out of this. They want to treat me royally, and there’s nothing I can do or say to change their minds. They are right, though. I’ll be seventeen. One year of high school left and then I’m off to college.

The beep of my alarm clock pierces through my dreams and forces me back to reality. I slam my hand down on the button, harder than necessary. I turn over to look at the time as if I don’t know that it’s seven in the morning. The sun shines directly in my eyes as I open them. I was so tired the night before, I forgot to close the blinds. I blink repeatedly but it doesn’t help—something I should’ve known anyway. I lay a hand over my eyes and groan.

A new day, another sunrise, one day closer to my birthday. After last night, I’m undecided on how I feel about my parents’ reaction to it and their plans for it. Birthdays usually consisted of a meal cooked by my mother, a large birthday cake the three of us couldn’t finish, and one gift. For the past five years, I’ve been given talents, abilities, strengths. One year it was the archery, the following year it was fencing. A year ago, it was horseback riding.

And now their plans for my birthday are completely different. I’m not sure how to tell my parents I don’t want the works. Then again, I suppose I should just let them go through with it. It’s only one day, right?

Unfortunately, that one day is Saturday, and that means I won’t have school to fill my morning and afternoon. I won’t have a lesson with Valentino because my parents have changed all my plans, and that means I have nothing to look forward to.

I feel so exhausted. Not just from the riding and fencing and swimming and archery. I feel emotionally drained. I feel weak and lost. But with a grunt, I slide out of bed and close the blinds before turning on my bedroom light and picking out my clothes.

“Good morning!” my mother says in a cheery voice, leaning on the doorframe to my room. I must’ve forgotten to close the door too.

“Morning.” I say, trying to sound happier than I actually am.

“May I come in?” She pokes her head in the room. I want to feel annoyed but how can I? She hasn’t done anything wrong but be happy in the morning. “I made you breakfast!” I look down at the tray in her hands.

Eggs Benedict, a glass of chocolate milk, and strawberries, all on a tray with fancy dishes, and hanging off the side is a white napkin, ST embroidered in green in the corner.

“Thank you.” I don’t understand what’s going on. Do I have some horrible disease that’s slowly killing me and I don’t even know it? Are they getting rid of me? Are they kicking me out? Maybe they’re fighting and don’t want me to know.

“Here you go. Enjoy. And keep the napkin—it’s a gift.” She smiles before leaving the room again. I’m so lost right now, I want to just curl up in a ball and hide. Or get beneath the covers and go back to sleep at least.

It’s one thing to cook me breakfast. It’s a whole other thing to make my favorite breakfast. And it’s a completely other thing to make my favorite breakfast, deliver it with a smile, and have my initials sewn onto a napkin.

I sit down at my desk and begin eating, no longer caring to go to school and pretend everything is okay. I don’t want to sit in a classroom full of kids who hate me for no reason. I bite into the eggs Benedict—savory eggs over ham with a creamy Hollandaise sauce—and sigh in content. It’s heavenly.

As I take another bite, I realize Mom never cooks. She hasn’t for years. The last time she cooked was the night I first heard the voice in my head. I was terrified, and Dad wasn’t home. She made me this exact meal then, too. What would cause my mother to cook my favorite food for breakfast today and bring it to my room? Whatever is going on, it isn’t good.

Aside from the regular bullies, life is actually better than usual right now. My family is happy, my lessons are going well, and from what I can tell, the finances are good

Whatever bad tidings come with that food, I don’t want them. And if not eating the food means I can avoid the bad, then so be it. I gingerly set my fork down and return to my dresser to put in earrings.

I take one last, longing look at the tray before sliding my backpack straps onto my shoulders and turning my bedroom light off as I leave the room.

In an attempt to leave unnoticed—I walk as quiet and carefully as possible to avoid speaking to my parents. Their weird behavior is throwing me off. Whatever they want to tell me can wait until after school. I tiptoe down the stairs, stepping only on the good treads. Sometimes it pays to know which ones squeak.

“Shanice! Was there something wrong with the food?” I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, before turning and looking at my mother standing at the top of the stairs, concern forcing her eyebrows together and a wrinkle to appear on her forehead.

“You know, I’m just not feeling all that well. The food was delicious. I’m sorry I couldn’t eat it all.” I hope she takes that excuse and lets me leave.

No luck. “Well, you should’ve just said you weren’t feeling well. The good news is that your father and I already called the school and told them you’d be absent today.” The wrinkle disappears as she smiles, her grin reaching ear to ear.

“What?” I’m too stunned to say much more. Out of school for the day? “Why?”

“Your father and I thought you could use a break. You seem so stressed lately. We also thought it might be fun to go on a hike.” She spins on her heel and disappears from my sight. I don’t move—I’m not sure I’m breathing. Either my parents have completely lost it or some virus has taken them over. Whatever is going on, I feel even more lost and confused.

I sigh in defeat and return to my room. I change out of my boots and into tennis shoes. I don’t know what’s going on. And right now I’m not entirely sure I want to know

Other books

Virtually His by Gennita Low
Exercises in Style by Queneau, Raymond
The Z Infection by Burgess, Russell
Dream Lover by Peterson, Nicola
The Party Girl's Invitation by Karen Elaine Campbell
Her by Lane, Harriet
Never Cry Wolf by Eden, Cynthia
The Jews in America Trilogy by Birmingham, Stephen;