Park
Another three weeks had sailed on by. Seven more days, and Cross and I would be hopping on plane to land back at the LAX, with a dream and a cardigan.
Great, I was quoting Miley Cyrus songs.
Seriously though, I had seven sunny days left, the last week of August, before returning to becoming my identical twin--Park Sparrow, ginger version. I heard that normal people usually go all out on the last days of vacation, doing everything that they wanted, sightseeing again, buying all those overpriced souvenirs sold in the brightly painted tourist shops, before going back home.
But I wasn't normal, so I was spending my final week with my family in the palace. On lock down. With the boy I hated the most morphing into a hermit day by day as he refused to come downstairs.
And really, by family, I mean my ghost-like grandmother who was seen less than a ghost, my brother who really needed to stop looking at alchemy books, and Alec Darkwood, who didn't know what the definition of fun was.
My parents were somewhere off in the world, enjoying their million-dollar honeymoon, and my AWOL older brother was still nowhere to be seen.
I was sitting in the kitchens, eating a bowl of cereal with a glass of orange juice and buttered toast by the bowl's side. In my hands was the letter Archer had written for the Sparrow family. Alec was across from me, his head buried in a probably fascinating book about the history of math.
Jasper was doodling with a pen he had borrowed from one of the butlers, random signs and runes that I was sure were used for voodoo.
Huh, maybe he'll let me borrow them one day.
The lovely Cross was probably locked in his room, doing homework (like the diligent prodigy he was--blech), refusing to even look at me. Still.
"You're doing it again," Alec drawled, and yet as he spoke his eyes never left the glossy pages of that textbook he was always lugging around.
"Being awesome? I'm always doing that," I said, flipping my hair and sending him a pageant winning smiling.
"You're glowering at your food, so you're either reading the letter again for the sixty-hundredth time, or you're cursing Cross into the oblivion of Hell again for the sixty-hundredth time."
Jasper snorted softly, and the symbol he was sketching was flawed, as the pen slid diagonally towards the corner.
"I am not!" I argued defensively, my voice rising just a tad bit as I shot Alec my award-winning glare. According to my grandmother, who had once randomly decided to show up to a chess tournament Jasper and I had, my piercing stare seemed to have reached new levels, almost reaching the I-Can-See-Into-Your-Very-Soul degree.
"Oh?" both Jasper and Alec inquired, simultaneously raising their eyebrows like those creepy twin villains do. Watch, a few more days and they'd be wearing matching shirts and finishing each other's sentences.
"Then what were you thinking about?" Jasper asked.
"Yes, do tell," Alec pushed, a mocking British accent in his normally Cimerian accented voice.
Shockingly, a Cimerian accent was quite similar to a British one, less heavy than an Australian, however. Cimerian was just slightly lighter than a regular British accent, almost as if we were singing instead of talking.
"I...." Come on, Sparrow, you need a good excuse! "I was planning on finding the queen. You know, some one-on-one girl bonding time."
That sounded perfectly normal.
Not.
Jasper and Alec guffawed at that, clutching at their stomachs or chests as outbursts of laughter erupted from them, filling the already noisy kitchen with even more disruption. Jasper gripped the edges of the wooden table with his fingers, his knuckles a pure white as he gasped for air, and Alec had fallen off his chair, doubled over giggling like a fool.
Like a fool? Please, they took "foolish" to new, unexplored, uncharted, and dangerous territories.
"Boys," I muttered under my breath, standing up to leave the two idiots that supposedly belonged to my family.
I walked quickly out of the kitchen, but I was already near the viaduct courtyard when I realized that I was still holding Archer's letter. Feeling a bit sad, I slumped to the ground, the coldness of the hardwood floors frosting my thighs.
My fingers unfolded the parchment, and for the sixty-hundredth and one time, I read again.
Dearest Father and Mother,
With all the love that I have, I congratulate you for sealing your love for one another, and I am sure that the wedding was spectular. Tell Park that she did a splendid job for a seventeen-almost-eighteen year old.
I apologize for not showing up in person. Yes, I did receive the invitation. No, Park, it wasn't eaten by a fire-breathing demon. I wish I was by your side, Father, and that I could have seen the look on Mother's face when she arrived at the altar.
However, Father, it isn't time yet. I am still busy, and I swear to you that I am working my hardest with that job you assigned me. I don't want to face Park until I am done, and the wedding couldn't be an exception.
I hope that soon, I can come home, and see everyone again. I love you all, and tell Park to try to stop herself from getting into life-and-death situations.
Yours truly,
Archer Sparrow
So it wasn't a solid "I don't want to see my family" statement, but hey. He still didn't come.
So my father had sent him away to do something my father wanted done. A quest--the king had cursed the dark knight with shadow-filled journey, away from his home and family, unable to return to the kingdom until the quest had been fulfilled.
Listen to me, using adventure-story words. Slowly, I ran my fingers through my dark hair, and then traced my brother's handwriting.
Archer had the prettiest calligraphy I had ever seen. Once upon a time, before the incident, he would complete his homework in my room until I went to sleep, because once upon a time, I had the worst nightmares ever.
Logan had really nice handwriting. His letters were penned in a flowing manner, the figures weren't short and stubby, disconnected or scrawly. They were smooth, leaning towards the right, with elegant twists and swirls.
No! I had sworn the moment he had left my room that I would never think of him in that way again. It hurt too much, something I had never experienced. The mere pronounciation gave me an urge to clutch at my chest, because it felt like someone had shot an arrow through my ribs and into very thing that kept me alive.
"I love you."
Yeah, right, you stupid, handsome, arrogant, rude, cynical, genius! Why did you make me fall for you?
"A Sparrow should only be on the ground when they've been shot or stabbed. Where's the blood then?"
My head went up, my gaze skyward, and an awkward smile lit my face. It was my grandmother, the queen of Cimeria, dressed in a white dress suit, impeccably sharp heels on her feet, her graying dark hair piled into a French bun. On her lips was a knowing smile, as if she understood everything I was feeling.
My grandmother totally mastered the I-Can-See-Into-Your-Soul look. Hands down, she was the best user ever.
I didn't resemble my father or mother very much, save for my father's dark hair. But he had gotten that from the queen, of whom I resembled a lot. And not just our looks, our personalities (hers tainted with age, experience, and the consequences of ruling a kingdom) were pretty dang similar.
She had been a wild child, speaking in weird phrases, fooling around when she was young. She danced and sang, and snuck out of the palace grounds. She used to hate wearing dresses, but apparently, after growing up, she learned to tolerate them. And whatever happened, she was still the same, cynical, sarcastic, yet constantly beaming person.
Unfortunately, she was also the emotional-bloodhound.
No, like, the very one. Go find a mind reader, put him and my grandmother into the same room with an extremely impassive person, and my grandmother will be the first one to know whwat that person is feeling.
Yeah, my grandmother wasn't the best person to be around when you wanted to hide your emotions. .
"I am too bleeding!" I said. "I just got shot, and thank you for sounding very concerned, Grandmother." I lifted up the hem of my white t-shirt to reveal a small section of unblemished skin. "See?"
She rolled her dark gray eyes and smirked. "Oh I see. You must be in horrible pain."
"I'm practically dying."
That earned me an amused smile from her, and she strode over to the windows in the arched windows that had no glass panes covering them. I raised an eyebrow, raking her outfit up and down and she raised my non-spoken thought away.
"You've grown up so much," she mused, a wistful look sparkling in her eyes. "Just two years and look how tall you've gotten. Your hair's much longer as well. You're beginning to look more and more like me."
"Are you calling me old?" I joked.
"I am not old, Park Mai Elizabeth!" she protested, humurously skimming the streaks of gray hair in her once lusciously dark strands. Elizabeth was my grandmother's name, and she got it from her grandmother, and that lady got it from her grandmother, and so on and so forth.
Like, I said. It was a family name.
Putting all laughter aside, my grandmother softened her gaze to look at me with kind eyes. The queen was normally a very cold person, with an icy exterior with Antarctica-like frost coating her heart. And soul.
I had to add the soul part.
The last time she had given me such a thawed out look was a very long time ago. And by that, I mean, seven years ago--when Archer was stripped of his heir-ness or whatever and the crown was passed to me.
"I haven't seen you so sad since the day your brother departed," she spoke, her voice low and gentle. "Did Logan say something?"
See?! I told you guys about the whole emotional bloodhound thingy. Scratch that, she's a freaking psychic! Am I descended from a line of Seers or something? She'd only been back in the palace for three weeks, and in those three weeks, I hadn't even spoken to Cross. And yet here she was, sitting calmly there, asking about something she should have no stinking clue about.
That's it; I have officially decided that this family has magical powers.
"You like him, but he doesn't like you back?"
Ooh, she shoots, she missed. Kind of. "No," I said. "We both like each other. Unfortunately for Cross, I am betrothed. And I don't know about anyone else, but that usually puts a riff between two people who like each other."
"Even in your most vulnerable moment, you still wield your sarcasm like a sharpened sword," she scoffed.
"Vulnerable? Who said I was vulnerable?" I scorned, batting my hands at the air like what she said was a mere gnat hovering over me, and I had to push it away physically so it wouldn't hang around.
"I know my grandchildren. Jasper, despite how old he is getting, still finds the closest person nearby and hugs them like a stuffed animal. Archer climbs on a roof and contemplates his very being. And you tend to have an expression between one of someone who's never experienced sorrow and one who is about to punch a hole into a wall."
Oh, funny. I look like a crazy person then. Nice choice of words, Grandmother.
"You know, I can always cancel the betrothal. Call of the meetings. But then again, if you wanted that, you would've asked us already, wouldn't you?' she guessed, folding her hands together so they fell on her lap. A patient, compassionate expression entered her face as she watched me.
"We need Great Britain's help, don't we? The Prime Minister will only speak to the queen if Cimeria gives them my hand in exchange. We're a rich country, but our allies are small, and our armies thin. What if a war happens? Maybe not right now, but later down the road."
She heaved a great sigh, and averted her eyes away from my gaze, looking beyond into the green courtyard that was filled with flowers and trees, bushes and hedges that my mother had put so much care into.
"That's not the only reason, is it?"
Anger pulsed through unexpectedly, and as a result, the letter, which had been so neatly folded into three sections, looking preserved and fancy, was now a ball of parchment in my fist as I stared down onto the ground.
"It's Jasper. They know about his real status. Who's his real family. And I know Vincent's parents well enough. If I back out of the betrothal, and then accidentally land on their bad side, which, let's face it, is ninety-eight percent certain, they can just blab to the whole world."
My grandmother didn't react to that, except for a narrowing of the eyes and a set frown coming upon her face.
It was silent for a few moments before she finally stood up, brushing the back of her suit to remove any dirt. I would bet my life that there wasn't any dirt. For some reason, dirt just never clung to my grandmother. She could probably take a walk through mud and it wouldn't cling to her.
Okay, now I was just being unrealistic.
As she strode on past, she dropped a cold object into my lap. Picking it up, I realized that the cold, rectangular piece was Logan's phone.
"He dropped this yesterday after I invited him for tea," my grandmother said. "Even through a photo, I can tell how much he likes you."
"What do you want me to do, Grandmother? We're not talking to each other, we're not friends, and I'm certainly not going to just hand this to him without sending out a few publicly embarrassing texts to his friends."
"You've always put yourself as a knight of the kingdom, Park. Despite what people say about your tone of words, I know that you would always put your family, your friends, and Cimeria first. You've practically drilled it into your mind that it's your duty. "
"I'm the princess! One day, I'm going to be sitting on your throne, wearing your crown, and the whole weight of the kingdom's safety will be on my shoulders!" I argued, waving my hands around like a deranged person.
I heard my grandmother chuckle.
"We'd rather you be happy with your choices instead. The feelings that you two have for each other is a once in a lifetime thing. It's something that belongs to those fictional fantasy books you read, or the bed-time stories that either myself or your parents used to read to you and Archer at night. Before you give it up, you'll have to ask yourself if you're ready to live with the regret."
And she left before I could utter another word, so I sat there against a pillar, my mouth somewhat hanging open.
Feeling confused, I unlocked Logan's phone (his pass-code was 1234--courtesy of moi). Something unexpected leaped out at me, and the phone nearly dropped from my hand. I didn't know if my grandmother had intended for this to make me feel happier, or to pierce me with a thousand arrows that made me want to die.
It was from a long time ago, two to three months at the most, when Logan and I had just learned about the dark secrets we had. He followed me to Paradise Coffee, watched me work my shift while sitting in a corner sipping black coffee, before lying to Elijah that we were a couple.
Eli then took several pictures with his phone, thus sending those photos to Logan's phone (who also sent it to me that very night).
He had his arm around me, squeezing me against him. In one hand, he held my favorite drink, and the other hand gripped my shoulder. I had made a face as he kissed my forehead, his eyes closed, his lips turned up in a smile.
He hadn't smiled at me like that for a long time now.
* * *
"WHAT?!"
Three people (teenagers, to be exact), two of them boys, one of them a girl, with loud voices when necessary (and this was a moment that required extremely loud voices), and shocked expressions that will never ever be duplicated.
Ever.
My grandmother looked quite taken aback at our identical expressions of surprise, outrage, and disbelief. Her penciled eyebrows were high and tense as Alec, Logan, and I invaded her personal space, all of us shouting something at different intervals.
"I'm not going back to Paradise with that idiot!"
"I don't want to be stuck with the princess!"
"They're going to give me migraines from all those arguments that they have!"
"Alec is annoying!"
"Park is a bully!"
"They won't shut up!"
"WE REFUSE."
That last part actually made my grandmother flinch, but she didn't get angry at three teenagers who disliked each other very much. She smiled, a cold, manipulating, sadistic smile that would force the most evil villain a run for his money.
"It is more convenient. For all of you."
"Lies!" I screeched. My arms were flailing around, unable to stay still from my grandmother's craziness. Seriously? She wanted to send Alec Darkwoods overseas, to live with me, and go to school with me, and keep an eye on me? He would be lucky if he could make it through one night of being under a smaller roof with me!
Logan unexpectedly pushed my arms down and shoved me behind me, shooting me a pointed glare as if my extremely loud shouting wasn't helping. You know what? His calm yet outraged complaint wasn't really helping that much either.
"Your Majesty, I sincerely doubt that adding another royal to a very small town is a good idea. In fact, it's--"
"A horrible idea!" Alec jutted in, pushing Logan aside so that my grandmother's amused eyes flickered over to Alec. Even from the back, I could tell that Logan was shooting Alec an evil, heated look.
"So....what are you all saying?" my grandmother speculated, a sick, twisted, unbelievable entertained tone prominent in her words.
"I'm not going."
"He's not going."
"He is sooo not going!"
I wish that in this situation, "Majority rules" applied. You know, kind of like a democracy. But, news flash to me, I live in a monarchy. And we were arguing with the queen. I should've known that she would pull that on us. We were screwed from the beginning.
Tricked, I tell you!
My grandmother shrugged, a simple movement in the muscles that shut us all up in no time. With a navy blue painted finger, she pointed to the crown that was resting on her head, glinting in the sunlight that radiated from the windows.
"Queen," she said easily, an equally triumphant and amused smile on her lips.
None of us dared say anything to her after that, but none of us really wanted to move. Our plane left in three hours, and Alec had yet to pack. You know, this choice she made would've been much more easier to deal with if she didn't pop it on us at the last minute.
"Don't worry about packing," my grandmother added. "I have a suitcase and backpack prepared for Alec. It's sitting by your's, Park. Everything that you need for Paradise are in those bags, my boy," she said kindly (if her friendly yet controlling tone could be considered friendly).
It's like she can read my thoughts. Wow.
Alec muttered something about being stuck with a snarky demon for the rest of his life before shoving past me, sending me an irritated glare before leaving my grandmother's prive drawing room and heading towards the grand doors, where mine and Logan's suitcases stood.
"Stay safe. I don't want to receive another call about how you nearly died. And Park," she added as Logan and I began to turn away. My torso twisted in the spot, so I was looking over my shoulders to meet my grandmother's stern gaze. The amusement had died away, and the queen was back.
"Don't forget why you brought Darkwood back with you. His trust must be earned still if he is to be fully welcomed back." She brought the china cup to her lips, sipping her black tea with such delicacy that it filled me with wonder as to how someone can make an action look so petite.
"I won't forget," I promised, giving her a bold look. Now I knew a bit better as to why Alec was coming with us. Not just because boredom would lead to suicide here without me (because the party doesn't start until I walk in--dammit, I've got to stop using song references!).
If Alec and I put our brains together (with some help from the egotistical Zen--and if Cross stops being hermit), we would actually have a shot to find out who was after my throne and my life.
And boy, would they get what's coming to them.
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Hi! Um, first off, I'd like to thank everybody that's voted and commented and read! It really makes my day when I come home and like, a bunch of people are actually reading this.
After this chapter, you get to meet some new, interesting (that's up to debate), and weird peoplee (that's not up to debate). Park is going to start cracking down on her enemy, and at the same time, try and balance her chaotic love life.
Enjoy reading, and don't forget to comment/vote!
Yours truly,
orangechicken