Royal Thief (Editing)

Chapter 37

Logan

The iron bar gate rolled closed as I packed in front of the mansion which was also my sanctuary away from the family palaces.

I turned the headlights off and covered my mouth in a yawn. I brushed my fingers through my messy hair and turned to her.

Her head rested on the window in a deep slumber with her hair covering my view of her face. The day has been a hectic one for us both, therefore, waking her was not an option.

I dropped from the car and did a turn to her door. Slowly, I opened the car door and unhooked the seat belt from her side. Just then, I heard the door to the mansion opened and Immaculate my middle-aged housekeeper stepped out.

"Please bring her purse up and help with the door," I said, picking Annabelle who unexpectedly weighted a lot despite her skinny structure.

She led the way into the building as a fat lady who's name I didn't recall greeted by the entrance. Living and caring for the mansion alone Immaculate was allowed to bring in relatives as long as she submitted her reports.

"To the guest room your Highness?" Immaculate inquired.

"It's late, we will be up in my room," I said, taking the stairs with her right behind me.

I pushed the door to my room opened and the light came on.

Immediately, my eyes fell on the opened windows. "That should be closed," I said, gently placing Annabelle on my bed.

Immaculate placed the purse on the bedside drawer, closed the window and left the room, while I  sat on the bed beside Annabelle and took off her flats.

I lied and I was not proud of it, but telling her I was at the edge of being a royal nobody was neither an option for me.

I knew her past was a bumpy one but her little revelation was a proof it was more atrocious than I thought. Though it was striking she wanted us to be friends and I couldn't stop thinking of her words.

I have a few weeks and soon enough I will be off your hands, done with my pay. So can we be friends? Just for the time being. After that, I promise you will never see me again.

It was fair enough and I needed my peace of mind, but never seeing her again was a short-cut I knew wouldn't stand.

It was unknown to everyone Annabelle inclusive, but the moment she stepped into that fire she became my responsibility, my burden in and out of the castle.

I placed her flats beside the bed and watched her turn with her back facing me. The hem of her shirt moved up a little and behold was an evidence of what hunted her.

Scars.

It was a straight ugly sight that must have cost not just pain, but an immediate wish for death. I moved my hands gently on it and noticed it ran up her shirt.

Knowing I was crossing my lines and breaking her privacy, I moved my hands away from the scar that burnt through my skin like hot flames.

How could someone endure so much pain?  Was all I thought as I pulled her shirt down and drew the duvet up her body.

I stood from the bed but watched her, unable to walk away. Just like me, It was clear she held back her story and only let what she could out.

Trust issues. A tell for a tell.

I thought, kicking off my shoes and moving into my walk-in closet.

***

"London Mum," I answered, with sleepy eyes as I stared at the computer that kept me company through the night.

"Dinner will be a family affair tonight son," she said, an indication she needed me back to the castle tonight.

"We shall be home before dinner," I replied and threw the phone on the desk the moment she hung up.

I picked the cup of coffee before me and glared at the computer screen that held a report from Angela. A report that only looked like dancing letters and numbers.

Sighing, I recounted yesterday's event that ended with my inability to sleep. I felt cursed as the sleep fairy left me hanging but thankfully not Annabelle who held on to the pillow throughout the night and was blessed with no nightmare.

Sluggishly, I pushed the office chair back remembering I had to check on Emily before heading back to the castle.

Just then, the door opened and Annabelle walked in with her hair braided to the back. This only meant she has been up for a while.

"Good morning, I need a change of clothes," she said, with a thin smile.

I sighed and shut my eyes, but her movement made me opened up to meet her worried green eyes in front of my desk. "You look sick, did you sleep?"

"I'm fine."

She frowned and crossed her hands on her chest. "I thought we've won the third war, friendship remember?"

I smiled remembering our brief handshake after her friendship purposal. "I'm fine Belle, I will get something for you to wear. Then we shall go over to Gloria's and back to the castle for dinner," I explained, watching her moved around the office barefooted. She stopped at the window facing the pool and pulled it open.

***

Annabelle

"Do I really need to do this?" Emily asked. The fear was visible in her eyes as she turned to me.

"Does she really need to do this?" I asked Logan, who wore what I supposed was a disguise. It consisted of a blackface cap that created shadows on his face and a Ray-ban glasses that virtually hid his eyes.

His disguise to avoid being recognized was incomplete and needed a beard, but this suggestion was pushed away with a frown.

"Yes she does, you agreed to this last night Emily."

Emily nodded.

Turns out this was her pay for smashing Gloria's vases, breaking chairs and the television screen. I gazed at her as she peeped through the window.

What was spooky about the studio that had both adult and teenage girls strolling in with smiles but had a different effect on Emily was what I couldn't unfold.

Aaron who came right on time for breakfast prepared by Immaculate Logan's housekeeper dropped from the car and Logan followed suit.

Aaron brought out Emily's wheelchair from the boot while Logan, with the care of a mother, placed her on it as I stood watching in a white sundress that replaced the jean and shirt I wore last night.

Done with her seating arrangement, Logan wheeled her through the glass doors of the ballet studio called Enchanted. The white hall was filled with teenage girls in leotard and pink tights either chatting or strolling into different doors like in secondary school.

Waiting in the hallway was a lady in similar leotard but her tight was a black one. After her introduction, Holly the instructor and head of the studio led us through the hallway.

"Annabelle, can you hold my hands?" Emily requested.

I took hold of her trembling hands and stared at Logan wishing he could read the fear on her face and abort his mission.

***

Authors note.

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