The Valley of Kings and a Queen

Chapter 37

Before lunch, I manage to find Grey at his locker. Luckily, there is no one around when I confront him.

"Have you ever seen this before," I throw the cringle sketch at his face. He grabs the paper from my grasp.

"Definitely, not one of my masterpieces. I do not know if I should feel disappointed or even hurt that you would think I could draw something that horrible. You have seen my sketches, they are works of art, not whatever this is," Grey says, throwing the sketch back at me.

I curse at him. "Obviously, you didn't draw it," I snarl at him.

"Woah there Cali, looks to me that you slept on the wrong side of the bed last night."

"I didn't get much sleep because of this," I say pointing towards the sketch.

"Oh, you drew that. Well, in that case it looks quite lovely," he says, flashing me a charming smile, "I didn't realize that you were taking an art class this semester."

"I am not," I say letting my irritation run rampant.

"Might I suggest you take one then," he offers as he closes his locker, "I highly recommend signing up for drawing and painting with Mrs. Morton, she's quite talented. Might teach you a good skill or two to help you improve. Oh, and she's not too bad for the eyes."

I roll my eyes, not enjoying Grey's playful banter this morning. It's funny I would have never thought this Greyson was the same Greyson Salvago from the Valley of Kings. The one that let down his shield and actually let his friends see his worry.

"I'm asking if you have seen this depiction before," I say pushing the sketch closer towards his eyes. His brows furrow, and he scans it for recognition. His face becomes blank and unreadable. He hides his true expressions from me for some reason.

"It looks familiar, but I don't recall from where," he shrugs me off, "why? Is it important."

"Yes," I hiss, "I think so. Last night I drew it."

"So, it's important because you drew it," he laughs lowly, and I actually am considering slapping him across the face for being so annoying- testing my limits today of all days.

"Let me finish," his eyebrows arch telling me to go onward, "I saw it in this dream last night. Or dream state, I do not know how to describe it exactly, but it felt as though I was in duat, but I wasn't. Instead I was taken back to the Valley of Kings. I was taken to some antechamber or somewhere that we had never been before. There was this figure there talking to someone. Then, the dream shifted, and this picture was on the floor drawn by blood."

"Hmm, probably some hieroglyphics of some sort," Grey suggests.

"I think it's important to solving this."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Grey says.

"Why not?"

"No worries, Finley and I pretty much have it solved."

"What do you mean."

Grey hesitates for a second before he responds, "meaning, we just are good at putting clues together and will have something soon. How about you worry about something else. Olivier told me that he is worried about you."

"Olivier told you what?" I say confused why he would need to tell Grey anything.

"Well and Finley too," Grey adds, then realizing what he says turns to walk away.

"Well, you can tell them they have nothing to worry about regarding me," I retort, "especially Finley." His name comes out with sharp malice.

Instead of following after Grey, I head in the opposite direction away from the cafeteria. I am not hungry, and not too eager to eat lunch with all of them.

-------

"I heard that Aiden asked you to the autumn ball," my mother asks with endearment. Her singsong voice seeming to unintentionally taunt at the hurt I feel inside.

"Yeah he did," I manage to let out, the words falling out of my mouth flatly.

"That's it? That's all you are going to tell me honey?" she teases begging to be let in on the latest gossip. She must be so pleased that I seem to have made friends here except she's completely mistaken.

"There's not much to say," I brush off her questions hoping she'll take the hint.

"Aiden's such a great guy. You should be more excited than this. Aiden's so sweet, cute, and very, very charming," she says seemingly spellbound, "Ah like the rest of Olivier's splendid friends. What more could you ask for?" Yeah, what more could you ask for? I grit my teeth and bite my lip trying not to let my rage that I feel about one of Olivier's "splendid friends" from exploding off my tongue. For I do not think my mom would approve of the cursing fit that I so wish to impart upon them all.

I pull out a barstool from underneath the island table, and slouch into it.

"It's just," I murmur softly.

"Just what sweetie?" I hate having all these secrets between my mother and me. We hadn't always been super close, yet I usually felt as though I could trust her with these important details in my life. However, Egypt changed that. Egypt changed a lot of things. For starters, it stole my trust and replaced it with hurt.

"I just don't like him," I let out, "or like I like him, but not enough."

"I see," she brushes off my comment as though it is typical, "that's fine. You can never force yourself to love someone enough." My rage towards Finely had begun to simmer inside myself. Could I really blame him for not loving me enough too when I could not do the same for someone else. Though I still felt justified in my anger towards him especially for having led me on to believe that he actually cared. That there was something more. Something beyond who knows what. Though it doesn't matter now, does it?

"Is that what happened with,"

"me and your father," my mother cuts in, not upset over my prodding, "I don't know." She stops and pulls out the other bar stool next to me leaning against the table. "It's more complicated than that I would say. See your father and I well. We met our first year in college. We were young and naïve. I thought I knew him, and he thought he knew me. Not to say that we were strangers, but it was just that we never really talked about our future or where we saw ourselves. We rushed into it. I think I was so infatuated with him," the word infatuation ringing alarm bells off in my head as though Cleopatra herself had taken over my mother's body, "and he with me. I think we had mistaken that for love and thought that overtime we would change each other through love. I loved him, but not in the way one should. I just wanted a different future for myself later on realizing that our hopes and dreams did not align up. He wanted to do things with his life that I didn't care to do and didn't want to set aside my own for him which means the depth of whatever love was there wasn't enough I guess."

"But hey, I would have never changed anything for the world because I have you and Sam, and I love you both so dearly and I hope you always know that" she gushes as I stand up from the stool I've been sitting.

"Thanks," I say turning back at her before I head up the stairs towards my room.