Despite the sense of protection Charlotte felt, high up in the suite with James, she knew the world was still awaiting them, desperate to discover more of their story. The press conference, which had been scheduled for the following afternoon, came around too quickly, hardly giving either of them time to think about what lay ahead of them or what they were going to say to the world.
Charlotte tugged awkwardly at her navy jumper with her free hand, as she followed Maxwell and Fiennes through the hotel. She linked her fingers with James', her heart pounding with each muffled footstep along the carpeted corridor. She could hear the murmur of voices ahead, the excited chatter growing louder as they grew closer.
"We'll introduce you. Wait until we call you. Don't answer any random questions they throw at you. We have preapproved questions that they will ask you. Answer them as they come. There is nothing you can't handle," Fiennes explained, glancing back at them.
"They won't mention the alterations then?" James breathed.
"Ha! Absolutely not. It won't be complicated," Maxwell barked.
"Just be yourselves," Fiennes smiled encouragingly.
"Be human," Maxwell said with a grin, winking at Charlotte.
"Now you discover your sense of humour?" Charlotte growled at Maxwell, shaking her head.
"It was always there," he said. "You just never learned to appreciate it".
The excited clamour of voices grew louder as they neared the end of the corridor, the words spoken beyond the looming set of double doors undistinguishable amongst the din.
"Wait here while we make the introductions," Fiennes said, checking his watch and flashing them a smile. "You'll be great".
Charlotte watched as Maxwell and Fiennes moved towards the babble of voices. She gazed at the bright light that fell through the doorway into the hall, entranced for a moment as an immediate hush fell over those gathered beyond.
"Are you ready?" James asked turning to face her and pushing a loose curl back from her face.
"I guess so," she replied. "It's just a game, right?"
"Right," he nodded smiling to her, his hand trailing down her cheek to her neck. "Smile and it will all be over soon".
She tried to mimic his head boy smile, but started laughing as he raised an eyebrow at her, confused by what she was trying to achieve. "So I can't fool you either?" she grinned as he hugged her.
"Not a hope, Owens," he replied with a chuckle, pressing his lips to her hair.
"You two ready," Maxwell hissed, appearing at the door, disrupting their moment of peace. "Fiennes is about to introduce you".
Charlotte took James' hand and winked at him, moving towards the door, ready to play their dangerous game once more. She took a deep breath, trying to focus. She hardly knew what was about to come next. At least she had known what the patrons had wanted. This time she was far from certain.
Fiennes' voice interrupted her thoughts. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, we have organised this meeting to shed further light upon the recent emergence of many children, that had been thought to be missing or dead. We hope today will reveal to the world more about their time spent on the island of Kingston. We have with us today, James Alexander and Charlotte Owens. Both individuals were taken from the island, where the so-called 'Kingston Academy' was based. In the last year these students were granted titles of 'Head Students' within this so-called school and were key figures in the establishment's final demise". The room was silent, the tension palpable.
Charlotte took a deep breath as James clasped her hand, squeezing it encouragingly and giving her an uncertain half-smile. She exhaled and returned his smile.
"It will be over soon," he breathed. Charlotte nodded and tried to relax, to appear unperturbed by the hundreds of eager faces clamouring to catch sight of them as they walked into the room.
"I would like to remind you all gathered here, to be calm and considerate with your questions. Mr Alexander and Miss Owens are essentially new to this world, and though they are well capable of expressing themselves, we do not wish to make this transition any harder on them than it already is. They have gratefully volunteered to speak to you all and their kindness should be kept in mind".
Fiennes then turned, his gaze meeting Charlotte's and he nodded, signalling for them to enter.
They were met by a flurry of flashing lights and clicking cameras. People called their names, trying to get their attention, the noise and clamour overwhelming in the light of the room. Charlotte kept a firm grasp on James, too afraid to let go, though she tried to seem indifferent to their presence.
Fiennes indicated for them to sit, side by side at a long table, covered with a starched-white tablecloth. Two microphones sat before them, tilted towards them, eagerly awaiting their story. Two glasses of water sat on the table awaiting them, the trickle of condensation running down their outside and creating a damp ring on the tablecloth.
"You're live, now kids," Maxwell growled in a low voice. "No foul language". He chuckled as he took his seat on Charlotte's right, while Fiennes sat on James' left.
"So let's get this started," Fiennes exhaled. "First question please".
There was a murmur of excitement as a blonde woman with large spectacles stood first, holding a Dictaphone towards them. Charlotte took a steadying breath, drawing on James' presence for support.
She flashed them a sickly sweet smile, as the room fell to a tense hush, the air alive with anticipation. "My question is directed to both Mr Alexander and Miss Owens," she cooed "Have you been able to shed any light on your kidnapping?"
Charlotte glanced at James and sighed. It was easy to begin with at least. "I'm afraid we have absolutely no memory of our kidnapping," James replied. "None of the students do. The first thing we remember is Kingston".
A murmur of acknowledgement ran through those gathered before the next reporter stood to ask her question. "Hi, Ella Goldfield, the Tribune – can we presume then, that you have no recollection of your family, of who you were before... this academy?"
"Yes," Charlotte replied trying to find her confidence. "Our first memories are from the island. None of us can remember a life before the island. We do not know our families, friends... any part of it".
"Have you been reunited with your family yet?" she pressed.
"No not yet. Soon – we are promised," Charlotte said, flashing a winning smile, a smile she had learned from James, a mask. She had to believe they would buy it.
An overweight man, sweating profusely and wearing a worn brown suit stood next, waving a phone before him. "Good morning," he coughed, clearing his throat. "Could you enlighten us to life on the island? What were your daily activities? What was its purpose?"
Charlotte glanced at James, who rubbed his chin and raised his eyebrows.
"Daily life was... routine," Charlotte frowned, looking at James, as if explaining it to him. "We woke early every morning, went to breakfast in the Food Hall. Following this we either went to class, studied in the library or worked out in the training halls. We had lunch, again in the Food Hall, continued with classes in the afternoon, ate dinner, studied or trained until curfew and then went to bed. That was a typical day at Kingston – quite boring I'm afraid," she said flashing her smile again and James smiled too, that winning Head Boy smile she hated so much, the smile that she and only she knew to be fake.
"So it was a... school?" he frowned.
"Yes, pretty much," Charlotte replied, trying to sound confident. The man sat down looking confused.
"Was Kingston a cruel place?" the next reporter voiced. At this Charlotte frowned glancing back to James.
"It could be..." James trailed off, his eyes fixed on Charlotte. She knew what he was thinking. Were they defending Kingston or not.
"It was," Charlotte agreed, nodding. "Detention and punishment were central to life at Kingston. If you didn't conform to the headmaster's beliefs then you were punished".
"Were you punished?"
"Yes - often," Charlotte nodded. "I did not agree with how we were treated on the island. I did not think it was fair that we were being raised to be sold to the highest bidder".
"I managed to escape most punishment until the end," James breathed. "But I would take it all back if I could. I missed out on a lot trying to conform to the headmaster's way of thinking in order to preserve myself and those I loved".
Charlotte found herself beaming at him, a genuine smile.
There was a murmur of excitement went through the crowd gathered before the questions continued. "What did these punishments consist of? Did people ever die?"
"Honestly that is hardly an appropriate question," Fiennes interrupted.
"No, nobody ever died from the punishments," James said. "We had some close calls, but we were worth too much to be discarded so recklessly. Punishments consisted of confinement, ranging from hours to days of pain, but it was dark and it was always too difficult to know what or who was causing the pain".
Charlotte tightened her grip, remembering witnessing James' first time being punished, what he had done to try and stop the pain.
"You mentioned training and being sold to the highest bidder, what were you being trained for?" asked the next reporter.
Charlotte sighed. "We were being trained to serve, to fight, to defend, to attack..." she explained.
"Kingston trained its students to be soldiers. We were sold to those who needed certain expertise to maintain and further their business," James added.
"Who would buy you?"
"We called them the patrons. They were very wealthy men and women, corporations, governments, gangs, drug empires, corrupt business tycoons, assassins... essentially if you had money and a dark enough view of the world and on how to do business, Kingston was the place for you," James offered.
"I would stress though, students of Kingston were only bought by those trading and dealing illegally. We were sought by the bad guys," Charlotte added. "The good guys would frown on trading in human life".
"Does this mean you are trained to kill?" a high-pitched woman asked.
"Any person can kill another," James shrugged. "We are particularly proficient at it, but just because we know how to do it, does not mean in any world we would do it, or would want to do it. Killing is immoral. It is wrong. We have fought to escape a world where we would be forced to act in such a horrific and brutal fashion. We did not buy into the way of life and that is why we are here today".
There was more feverish whispers through the audience.
"You're doing great," Fiennes said leaning away from his microphone.
"Not too shabby," Maxwell added. "Not nearly as infuriating as I am used to Miss Owens".
"Well Maxie, you deserve special attention," she winked, before the next question was ready for them.
"How can we be certain you are safe to allow back to your families?"
"I can answer this," Maxwell interrupted in his usual gruff manner. "Because we know they're ready. We have done every test and interview possible with these children. They are safe. They are kind. They can be irritating at times, but they are above all outstandingly behaved and generous people. These two along with other older students have risked their lives in the protection of the younger students, saving them from a life unfit for anybody. Both have nearly lost their own lives leaving that island and they have lost many friends along the way too, to a life they neither asked for nor embraced. If they posed any danger to anybody we would not be having this interview. So can we please exclude these stupid questions from the rest of this press conference or I will have to ask Miss Owens and Mr Alexander to leave early".
"Are there any other questions?" Fiennes sighed shaking his head at Maxwell.
"Can you tell us what you knew about Guillaume Desmarais' involvement with the academy?"
Charlotte glanced at Fiennes, wondering if this was something she was allowed to talk about. He nodded wearily. "Monsieur Desmarais was a founder of Kingston Academy. Along with his own father they established the school thirty years ago. It was his business. He visited the island frequently, but never remained for long. For him it was all about the money each student would make and to keep an eye on the headmaster John Elmhirst".
"His son, Matthew Desmarais, was said to have reported the existence of this island to the authorities, do you have anything to say on his behalf?"
Charlotte could feel James' eyes settle on her. "Matthew came to the island last September. He came under the pretence of taking the company over from his father, but in fact he was searching for help for his brother who was very ill at the time. From the beginning Matt protected us. He saved both myself and James from certain punishment one evening after we were delayed returning to our rooms before curfew. He deserves to be... hailed a hero for what he has done for us. Without him we would never have found a way off the island. Without him we would not be here," she offered.
James squeezed her hand beneath the table and she exhaled, barely realising she had been holding her breath.
"Are you looking forward to meeting your families?"
"Yes – and no," James sighed. "I know that is a strange response. I am curious about them and excited to meet them, but it seems we will be returning home with them when the time comes, and I am not sure if I am looking forward to being separated from... my friends. They are the only family I know and it will be difficult and frightening without them".
Charlotte gazed at him and knew that he was speaking about her. She smiled, ignoring the worry concealed behind his own smile.
"And Miss Owens, same question?"
"It's a scary prospect," she nodded. "I think James summed it up perfectly".
"Mr Alexander and Miss Owens, will take one final question, the rest can be addressed to either myself or Agent Smith," Fiennes announced to the crowd.
Charlotte glanced over those gathered, scanning the eager bodies trying to have their questions heard. She paused as she caught sight of Alastair Ramsey standing at the back by the door, watching them with a curious expression. His lips twitched as a young black-haired man stood to ask his question. She had no idea if he was grimacing in disgust or smiling in delight. He was still blank, unreadable.
"It has been rumoured that these students are not completely what they seem to be, that they have special training, special talents – unique gifts even – that made them so valuable and highly sought after by those opposed to peace and law. Is there any truth to these allegations?"
The dark-haired man's words hit Charlotte like a punch to the stomach. She tried to remain indifferent, but it was a struggle.
"I'm sorry I don't understand the question," Maxwell breathed, a slight tremor of worry creeping into his voice.
The reporter sighed. "Experimentations? Have these children been enhanced to make them the soldiers that we seemingly can't produce through normal means?"
"I don't know where you have received your information but..." Fiennes began.
Charlotte was hardly listening. Ramsey's lips seemed to twitch even more, his dark eyebrows knotting together before he turned and strode from the room.
"Miss Owens? Mr Alexander?"
Charlotte glanced at James, who was regarding her with clouded eyes. "The truth?" he whispered leaning close to her ear. Charlotte frowned, wondering whether it was the greatest idea, but instead decided to offer some of the truth. At least then they wouldn't get caught in a so-called lie.
"There is some truth in these rumours," she sighed. "During the first year on the island we spend our time being experimented on. They alter our genetics. They made us stronger, impervious to illness and disease. We heal faster. Our bodies can take greater physical strain," she sighed, in a tone that suggested it was no big deal.
"Greater physical strain?" the reporter questioned.
"If we jump from a height – twenty or thirty feet, we will hardly feel the impact," James shrugged.
"They said that you have powers?" the reported pressed, a little frantically now. Some people laughed, others remained silent, watching them hungrily.
"Powers?" Charlotte replied as if tasting the words, a head girl smile touching her lips.
"We are talented, no doubt," James grinned, "but we are hardly magic. We are just good at reading a situation".
"One of your kind was said to have vanished into thin air outside a diner over three months ago. She was caught on surveillance camera and it appears in the police report," the reporter pressed.
James chuckled coldly. "One of our kind?" he repeated, his voice void of all humour. "Well honestly, that sounds like a fanciful story. I had hoped we would be answering serious questions here..."
"I am being serious," the reporter reiterated. "Fifteen people were found dead at the residence of Frank Nicholls almost four months ago. These people were all on the missing persons register and their autopsies showed..."
"And what would they have to do with us?" Charlotte asked, her voice perfectly calm, though inside she could feel her panic rising.
"Frank Nicholls was a named patron of Kingston Academy..."
"Sir, we were fighting for our lives at the time, we were fighting to return to the lives that were taken from us," James said his voice cracking ever so slightly.
Charlotte turned to look at him, and although he wasn't smiling, she still recognised the mask he was wearing for the crowd. "It's okay," Charlotte whispered encouragingly, playing for the camera.
"I think we're done here," Fiennes said picking up on their cue to end the interview.
There were a couple of groans, a few heckles and a flurry of unapproved questions as James stood up, tightening his grip on Charlotte.
"Wait Mr Alexander? Miss Owens? Can we presume you are a couple?" a blonde reporter in the front row called as they turned from the press.
Neither of them answered, but as they were shepherded from the room, James slid his arm around Charlotte's waist, pulling her close to her side almost protectively.
"Are you okay?" she breathed, glancing up at him, still confused by his unexpected upset in front of the cameras.
His jaw was set, his eyes clouded. She could see the anger etched into his expression, but he looked far from upset. "That," he shrugged. "That was just to remind them we're human".
Thanks so much for reading - please take a few moments to vote and I would love to hear what you thought of this comment, so please do comment! Feared has been building up to this chapter for a while and I hope it has met all your expectations! Thanks in advance, Sorcha x