With just a quick narrow of her inky blue eyes and a frown of her lips, I knew I was in trouble. I cast a quick look towards Logan, who looked more starstruck than a young girl at a One Direction concert before I averted my gaze down to my red hot sneakers.
I was totally screwed. She would take away my entire wardrobe for the entire summer and dress me every day.
Dear clothes, I want you to know that this was never my intention. I love you very much but we just can't be together this summer. Forever and always, me.
As my mother approached us, I conjured up all the possible ways to hide my suitcase--or at the most, my precious sneakers. Dresses for the summer? That sounded tolerable. Heels 24/7? I would rather walk through the Underworld and fight with Hades himself before I do that.
"Park, how...acceptable you look!" my mother grimaced, forcing the words through her gritted teeth. Her eyes scanned my white shirt, my skinny jeans, and of course, my shoes. She quickly turned to Logan, and her expression became much more relieved as she took him in. He was dressed much more nicer than me. Casual, yes, but more neat and orderly.
"Ah, Logan! It's been so long since I've seen you. You've grown up to be such a fine young man!" my mother cooed, placing her hands on his shoulder, beaming at him as if he was part of the family.
"I remember when you used to be so little and small. You used to visit each and every summer. Oh, how you'd hide out in your room, refusing to play with Park until she dragged you out! You two used to run around these halls."
Wait a minute.
I didn't have friends back when I was little. Except for, of course, Zen and Minnie. But it was just them. And I remember everything about my childhood. How Zen and I used to climb the trees in the garden and pluck the apples for the cooks. How Minnie and I played with the fake swords that we made out of wood. I remembered nothing about running down the halls with a boy named Logan Cross, or dragging him out of his room.
What was going on?
My mother, Giselle Sparrow, who I now suspected was a bit loopy like my father, stole me a sad glance, as if she was remembering something gloomy.
"Your majesty," Logan stuttered, "I am honored that you remember me of such but...I have never been here before."
See! Even Einstein himself said he had no such memory of such an impossible thing? I mean, come on! Me, playing with Logan Cross? That's like....Harry Potter having teas and crumpets with Lord Voldemort.
"Not in your memories, dear. It is wonderful to have the Cross family back in the palace once again," my mother sighed. "Lance and Caterina must be so proud of you."
"Mother, have you taken your afternoon tea yet?" I interrupted, clearing my throat as politely as I could. I had to stop this before it got even weirder. How come my mother can remember something from my childhood, but I can't?
A smile replaced her nostalgic look and she beamed off into space. "I was just about to do that when I ran into you two. But before I can..."
She became instantly more stern and queen-like, raising a perfect eyebrow at my apparel.
"Park Mai Elizabeth," she said warningly, "how many times have I told you about your clothes?"
"Too many," I mumbled, trying super, super hard not to roll my eyes.
"When you come home to Cimeria, you are not a citizen of that town you call Paradise, Montana. You are a princess. An heir to the throne! Please dress like it, sweetheart, or else you know what your grandmother and I would enforce upon you....and your brothers."
I paled. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. She knew, I thought frantically. If my brothers found out that I was the reason they had to start wearing suits and tuxedos all day long, I would be better off dead.
Well, brother. Not plural. Archer wasn't around anymore, and he was well above the age of adulthood (but only by three years). I grew bitter inside at the thought of my missing older brother so I shunned all those old memories and gave in to my brother. Archer wasn't here to skewer me alive, but Jasper was.
My mother smiled happily as she saw the look of resignation appear on my face. I'd like to stay alive, thank you very much.
"I will be off for my tea, my dears," she chirped happily. "Please, do make yourself at home." Another smile was flashed at us before my mother strolled off, humming a lullaby she used to sing to me when I was little.
"Wait," Logan muttered softly. I almost jumped, realizing how close we had gotten. Since when did this happen? Was he know a magician that could teleport through thin air? I swear he was like, at least three feet just two seconds ago!
"What?" I whispered back. He opened his mouth to reply, but something held him back. Logan shook his head and looked away.
"It's nothing. Forget about it," he answered.
Great. Everyone just had to become crazy, didn't they?
"Not you too," I groaned. He rolled his golden eyes at me. "I think you should go change," he snorted, "not worry about my behavioral patterns."
That's right! I shot him one small smirk, half-thankful that he reminded me, half-angry that I didn't remember it myself. As quickly as I could, I hurried back to my room and this time, I decided to glance into the closet. I didn't want to make Logan stand in the middle of the hallway, or running into any more scary people (a.k.a my grandmother) so I just grabbed a faint peach dress, strapless and short, with blue flower prints all over it.
I attached a belt around my waist, and threw a cream cardigan over, hoping that I looked decent. I exchanged my beautiful red sneakers for an atrocious white pair of flats, complete with a small bow.
I left the room tying my hair into a ponytail, and ran to meet up with Logan.
I met his eyes for a split second before he turned a bright pink and hastily looked away. What was up with him? Can't he look me in the eyes for at least a full minute? I know that I had the look of a demon sometimes but, hey, as far as I'm aware, I wasn't very angry at the moment. Demonic Park only appeared when she was angry.
"Are you, um, ready?" he coughed, still refusing to look at me.
That's it. I hated it when people didn't look me in the eye when they talked. Nobles and servants, I could understand. It was a law that stated that someone of a higher level should be shown greater respect, and sometimes that meant lack of eye-to-eye contact.
But Logan? He was my enemy, the guy I've hated for six years. He had been one of the few who could hold my glare. I enjoyed glaring at him! Why did he stop?
So I punched him on the arm. I punched him hard.
He yelped loudly, hissing in pain as he clutched at his soon to be bruised arm. He leaned against the rails of the stair, grumbling curse words under his breath between uneven intervals of breathing.
He shot me the most upset look that I've ever seen him wear, but I merely grinned. Oops, I mouthed sarcastically.
He dove at me, anger in his eyes. I did what any sensible girl would: I booked it. He chased me down numerous corridors, up and down stairs, basically everywhere. Around and around we ran, like a tom cat and a skinny mouse.
Normally, I'm super good at chasing. I aced physical education. I was incredibly fit for my age. Why? Try living with Archer. Exercise was one of my first words.
But then I remembered that I was up against the prodigy of spies. Like, Tom Cruise of Hollywood. Any spy can say his name, and everyone will know who they're talking about. And he didn't earn the title through relations. He was a genius in the field of agents, and was fondly spoken about by the agents of XYZ.
It was natural that running away from him was more difficult than usual. And, come on. Running in these flats? Say hello to Godzilla blisters by the end of today.
In the end, those flats became my downfall. We were running by this corridor with the entire wall made of windows, facing one of the most luxurious Cimerian gardens. A marble balcony, complete with small guardian gargoyles awaited us outside.
As I ran past, my shoes fell off. Just like Cinderella. But that princess had it easy. A glass slipper had just magically "slipped." She didn't even trip, or stagger. No cuts or bruises. No, a glass slipper simply fell off her feet.
But me? This princess accidentally kicks off her flats in a desperate to get away from a not so happy "prince" and surprise, surprise! She gets to fall after twisting around and slamming her palms into wood.
I hate you Cinderella.
Someone sat me upright, carefully taking my wrist and examining it. After he saw that my skin had been scraped and was bleeding, he took a look at my heels. Logan sat down next to me and gave me a comforting squeeze on the hand.
"You look alright," he said softly. He rubbed my ankle, raising an eyebrow, silently asking me if it hurt. I shook my head. But something was sending cold shocks up my skin, like mini electrocutions at once. I realized he was holding my hand at the same time.
Our eyes met for a moment before Logan cleared his throat and jumped off. He held a hand out, offering to help me up. I batted it away, afraid that if I held his hand again, I would be shocked beyond recovery.
"Are you okay?" he asked, shuffling from foot to foot, his arms crossed as a defense. I ran my fingers through my ponytail, totally screwing it up before I nodded stiffly. We--or I--had to get out of here. Being alone with Logan?
It may be Spice Girl Pepper's dream come true, but it certainly wasn't mine.
Someone else in the hall coughed obnoxiously. It sounded like a young boy, awkwardly intruding on his parents making out.
"Sorry!" Logan and I both chorused, whipping our heads to one of the corridor. And my jaw dropped open.
He had grown taller, almost to my height. His shoulders had become much more broad and he looked a lot less scrawny than usual. His hair, which had been a light brown before, glowing like forest in the sun, was now as dark as Archer's and mine. It fell in a shaggy cut, his bangs kissing his lashes, giving him a shy, adorable look that went perfectly with his bashful smile.
He wore his usual clothing, which was a dark pair of jeans, the sneakers that he loved to splash in puddles so he could run around the palace to anger Mother. A blue plaid shirt was buttoned up all the way to his neck while a black hoodie covered the rest of him.
"Jasper!" I cried. His bashful smile turned to an all out grin as I ran towards him, quickly crushing him into a hug.
"Hi, sis!" he managed to choke out under my grip. I wouldn't let him go though. I did loosen my hold, but I wouldn't let go. Two years I spent not listening to him talk about the books he discovered in the Cimerian Archive Hall. I hadn't debated with him on our political system for two years. I haven't snuck out to the North Tower to drink hot choclate and exchange ghost stories in two years.
"I've missed you so much!" I admitted, crushing him once again. What? He was my baby brother, no matter what grade he was in or how tall he got.
"So did I," Jasper said, his eyes lighting up as I finally pulled away. We couldn't speak for another few minutes, mainly because I had no clue what to say first. Look how you'ev grown! You've cut your hair! You're actually smiling for once!
Man, I should've paid attention to my father's constant rants about family connections. I knew--we all knew--that nothing could break our bonds, but still. Paying attention might've helped me out in this awkward situation.
"So, is that your boyfriend?"
Or, you can just leave the fourteen-year-old do all the talking, that sounds pretty legit.
I flushed a bright pink, hastily turning my head around. Logan had been walking towards us, but had frozen in midstep as he heard my younger brother's word. On contrary to me, he didn't look like someone colored him with a pink sharpie, but more like he was going to be Casper the Friendly Ghost for Halloween.
"He is not my boyfriend!"
"She is not my girlfriend!"
Angry eyes, one pair chocolate, the other pair butterscotch, tried to burn holes at each other as we glared each other down. He just had to copy me, huh? He can't be original for just one second?
"Shut up, Cross," I snapped. "Stop copying me!"
"I'm not copying you, Sparrow!" he sneered. "Why are you mocking me? Are you running out of comebacks?"
Oh, he did not just go there!
"Sis, calm down!" Jasper suddenly laughed. "No need to look like he's your mortal enemy."
At this, both Logan and I exchanged knowing looks, remembering our six year war against each other that none of us were willing to surrender in. Jasper was completely oblivious, though. Some things never do change.
"Have you seen Mother yet?" Jasper asked, snapping Cross and I out of our stare-down. Darn him for having such attractive eyes. Why, out of all the colors in the world, his pupils decided to be the shade of the golden leaves of the Cimerian maples during autumn?
Jasper groaned loudly, once again pulling me from the poisonous thoughts of my mind. Stop it, Park! the voice in the back of my head grumbled. His eyes are not gorgeous. Snap out of it, you stupid princess!
"Why, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to listen to my Voice and stop thinking about Logan. Talking to Jasper Archimedes Sparrow always managed to get my mind off stupid things and into more "smart" stuff.
Yes, my parents thought it would be absolutely brilliant to name Jasper after Archimedes. I'm just rather grateful that they didn't decide on Da Vinci, Michaelangelo, or Galileo.
Jasper gave me a grave look, his eyes trying to convey to me the dark news he was about to bring.
"We're going to have our clothes tailored tomorrow," he said sorrowfully. "She said that as soon as you came back home, we were going to get tailored the day after."
I sighed. I knew this was coming. I didn't really want to complain. It was her wedding (her second one, but the first official one--the first one was elopement), and I didn't want to spoil one of things she loved to do. Which was, in case you didn't know, put her children through heel-bleeding torture.
And, for two years, she had to work with Jasper. And he, unfortunately, grew up with two, I repeat, two bad role models. I only had Archer when I was growing up. When Jasper could finally start understanding his surroundings and everyone's intentions (which was probably at the age of four), he had two older siblings who had a bad habit of not following the rules.
So of course he knew when to run away. I taught him the best hiding places in the castle, and how to predict an upcoming shopping spree before I returned to the states for school.
"Hey, at least you have me to hang out with this time!" I laughed jokingly, ruffling his already messy bed-head.
Jasper snorted, pretending not to act as if it was the best news he heard all day, but honestly, a day spent with moi? Best thing ever.
"Oh!" I recalled. "Cross, come here," I said, waving him over to my side. At first he seemed reluctant, before he started towards me. Soon, he was by my side. I didn't even need to say anything before Jasper held out his hands and beamed happily at Logan.
"I'm Jasper!" he greeted enthusiastically. "You must be the agent everyone talks about you all the time. I've wanted to meet you for a really long time, ever since I heard you were going to be my sister's bodyguard!"
At this, Logan blushed slightly, seemingly shocked that a prince wanted to meet with him. He seemed so bashful and embarrassed, not much like his usual cocky self that it almost made me laugh and hug him.
Hug him?
Where the heck did that come from?
"Park must really like you," Jasper sniggered, casting an amused look at me. I turned murderous, raising my fist, just about to punch him, when he pulled a Park Sparrow and booked it. Before I could land the blow, he was already turning the corner, waving Logan a goodbye.
Cross caught my wrist and prevented me from slamming it into thin air. I felt like a block of ice in comparison to his feverish skin.
A playful glint was twinkling in those beautiful eyes of his as they flicked back and forth between my eyes and my lips. What was he thinking about? For once in my life, I wished I was Edward Cullen and could read minds.
"Why are you so cold?" he asked.
"I'm a vampire sent here to destroy you," I replied. Cross merely frowned at me with his eyebrow raised. Did he honestly want to know why my skin was so much similar to that of an actual ice princess?
"I just don't get warm," I replied, shrugging. "Maybe it's because I have no soul."
Cross snorted at that. "That's probably it. You don't have a beating heart inside of you."
"Ha ha," I sneered sarcastically, while at the same time, wondering why he wouldn't let go of this heartless corpse. "Very funny, Cross. If I'm so heartless, why on earth are you holding my hand?"
That certainly shut him up.
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You probably all hate me, huh?
Yeah, I know, it's been like forever since I've updated. EXACTLY 3 MONTHS WHOA. I really am sorry. My classes kept piling me with homework, and trying to balance extracurricular activities, homework, finishing up The Vampire Diaires, catching up to Pretty Little Liars, and more homework is kind of hard.
I have a bit of a break of EC stuff, so I'll try to update more often. But I'm trying to a new story as well, so you should check that out as well as this.
I hope you have fun reading! It's kind of a lame chapter, with not much happening, but that's for after. It's another filler chapter because my brain can't function with Princess+Spy+story formula at all. But it'll get better, hopefully!
Yours not so truly, me!