Alexandria: The Lost Princess

Chapter 9 - Part 2

Stomping deeper into the stable, I kick a bucket in frustration. Water splashes across the ground, and a cry comes from behind the horses. "Bloody-" Gabriel peels out from behind the horses in surprise, "Chloe?"

"Sorry," I mumble lowering my head.

The water spreads across the ground, and the hay lying about the floor absorbs it quickly.

"Care to lend a hand?" Gabriel asks after a moment of me idly standing like a lost child.

I nod, a genuine smile sliding across my face. This man's soft smile always seemed docile enough, what would it hurt if I spent some time aiding him? A moment of freedom in the usual routines of labour should relieve me of my thoughts for a while. 

He hands me an apple and guides me towards a horse. His steps forward, calm and relaxed, his gaze never leaving me for a moment, he studies me like a scared animal. Careful not to disrupt my apparently fragile mindset. Lifting my hand, I offer the apple to the horse. Gabriel gently pats the tall beast while it plucks the apple. I gasp, tugging my hand away in a giggle and wipe the slobber onto my dress. "Gross," I chuckle.

Gabriel chortles beside me. With a new found bravery I inch forward, my hand twitching with a desire to pet the beast. The horse shuffles slightly, and Gabriel grips the harness, silently warning the horse to heel. Gabriel takes my fist in his. "Relax."

With a skill of trickery, Gabriel has me under his command, my hand subconsciously going slack. My hand is guided to the horse, and the hairs tickle my palm as it's strong muscles flex. The horse shakes its head with uncertainty, and its mane falls over my wrist, the softness calming my nerves and Gabriel lets go of me. Finding comfort in the connection I had to this creature, I slide my hand along its neck muscles rewarding it with a comforting gesture to ease its nerves.

My mind is lost to anything but the soft tickles of the tuff, fine furs along the creatures strong body. Gabriel vanishes beside me, and it is the horse and me inside this darkness that surrounds me. A darkness that haunts me, but for a horse, a title forced upon me means nothing. The horse would still be weary of a stranger and loyal to its rider. Where humans don't see me for my actions, this horse does. Showing empathy to a kind gesture between weak souls it remained friendly to my touch, unlike a man who simple chuckles and taunts my identity before my face as if I weren't in the room.

"Chloe?" Wilfrid hollers from the cottage.

"I got her," Gabriel calls back. Handing me a bucket, he whispers, "There is a trough in there, care to fill it up for me?" I take the handle and march over listening to Wilfrid chuckle behind me.

"Keeping her away from me, I see."

"Wilfrid, let her be. She's tired," Gabriel counters with compassion.

"I know," Wilfrid grumbles with a swallowed distaste towards the thought.

I push the pale into the watering trough and freeze. The water's familiar feeling drags me from reality, and my vision shifts into the past, towards the well at home.

The cold water of the well licks my chilled fingers, and I lift them up flicking my fingers and the water flies at my opponent. Tristan's light chuckles of youth fill the silence of the forest. Light water speckles my face, and I screech with delight. My screech morphs into a blood-curdling scream, and I'm plunged into the water. I gasp for air, my lungs filling with water, and I struggle to surface. Ripples above blur out the cliff above me, the cliff where Tristan had hurled us from, and Kalen watches from a top, in panic. Turning towards the dark depths of the lake below me, I see him in the shadows again. His dark silhouette haunting me with the twinkle of his crown. 

I pull my hand from the trough with a gasp and water flies up, sprinkling a horse nearby. With a horrified neigh, the horse bucks, smashing its legs into the wall. The rippling shakes the wall causing it to squeal in distress, and I stumble back, my foot slipping under the hay below.

Gabriel and Wilfrid come barreling over. With quick action, Gabriel grabs the horses reins soothing it from its terrified state. Wilfrid slides into my vision, a pathetic chuckle falls from his mouth, it shakes with a sadness. "What did I say about breathing?"

I hadn't realized till Wilfrid said anything that I held my breath. The fear of drowning sealed my lungs and they burned for air, but I couldn't find it in me to release the breath. I look away from him and down at the pile of hay I had fallen into. Such a familiar flooring, similar to the chicken coops, scattered with straw and seed.

Mother.

Endless tears dribble down my face, at the thought of the woman I knew nothing of. The fire. I gasp for air but can't seem to catch my breath. Surely the chicken coop had burned in the fire, and the closest connection to my mother burned to ashes. My only source of friendship for the years I lived alone with Uncle was forever gone. It all felt wrong, like a metaphorical reminder of the past. If my mother really wasn't a peasant who only bed a traveller, then did that mean she didn't die giving birth? Had she died like the countless victims of the king's desires for an heir?

Grabbing my chin Wilfrid twists my gaze back to his squatting posture. Taking his sleeve, he rubs it against my cheek, and I flinch away. These tears didn't deserve to be covered, they deserved to flow freely and stain my cheeks in the loss of my mother.

Wilfrid scoops me into his arms and carries me towards the cold looking manor, empty and dark. The doorway to the manor flashed with the haunting shadow of the king. Immediately, I tuck my head into Wilfrid's shoulder, shielding myself from my fate. Tears trickling down making a mess all over his armour. I knew I entered the building when a coldness from the halls crept across my skin and his footsteps echoed with a haunting rhythm.

"Oh my," Agatha's voice gasps with surprise nearby. Do I really look that haggard, that I even frightened the old lady?

"No worries, Agatha, she's alright. Would you mind getting Kale for me?" Wilfrid's cheery voice falter for a second. Agatha's tiny body making very little noise during her departure but her cane echoed light thunder against the stone. 

A squeal of old hinges irritates the silence and Wilfrid carries me into a much warmer room. Placing me onto an old musty bed, I blink a few times adjusting to my surroundings. Rubbing my eyes free of tears, I scan the room. A simple wood frame held the mattress, and a dusty table decorated the plan room. The house was obviously unlived in. The hearth blew warmth into the creepy place, and my muscled slacken from comfort in the seclusion.

Wilfrid leans himself against the hearth, watching me take everything in. His blue eyes flicker with the yellow of the fire. "Want to talk about it?"

I shiver at the thought, last time I talked to someone there about what I saw, Kalen drugged me.

"Not really," I mutter with distaste from this memory.

"This place is a little creepy, isn't it?" He looks to the side wiping his hands along the dust.

"Yes," I reply in disinterest, looking out towards the window beside the bed. The orange and pink colouring slowly filling with a deeper purple and red.

"Apparently, it wasn't always like this," Wilfrid continues.

"Oh," I ignore him fiddling with my fingers.

"Things change, and when people can't accept the change they just avoid it altogether," his serious voice has me blinking at his crossed arms, his posture disinterested but he watches me. "Don't avoid things, this place could still be beautiful if the owner weren't avoiding its heritage."

"You know you don't make sense, right?" I grumble.

"Just don't be afraid to talk to me, alright?"

~Well, that turned quickly. Who likes Gabriel? Wilfrid tries so hard with her and she is so shut out to him. Poor Wilfrid?~