I gasped and Georgina moved the rag away from me.
"Oh," she whispered. "Shh, shh. Sorry."
I shook my head and then breathed in deeply to relax. Georgina leaned closer and pressed the rag gently against my bottom lip. The antibacterial Dettol stung the cut on my lip, but I tried my best to sit still.
Georgina dabbed at the cut gently, clearing away all the crusted blood and then tossed the rag in the kitchen bin.
"There," she said. "That should heal better, now." She picked up the Dettol bottle and twisted the cap back on it.
"Thank you, Georgina," I said.
She smiled at me, rather sweetly.
"Let me see your hands," she then said, holding her own out towards me. I lifted my hands and she pulled them carefully towards her face. She observed them, finding the bruises darkening the knuckled of my right hand.
"This will heal fine on its own," she said softly. She let go of my left hand and gently patted my right. "Just stay away from the punching bags for a few days."
"Okay," I said as she let go my hand.
Georgina walked over to the kitchen sink. She opened the cabinet above it and placed the Dettol bottle inside, amongst a collection of emergency medicines. She then turned the sink faucet and washed her hands.
"At least we know for sure that you're not helpless," she said. "The skills are still in there."
"Yeah," I agreed. I crossed my arms against my chest and leaned back against a counter. "And if he tries it again, I won't hold back."
I noticed a smile touch the corners of her mouth. She turned the faucet and the tap turned off. She picked up a dish towel and dried her hands on it.
Somehow, her smile seemed to light the mood a little further. I had to admit, I owed it to these people a little. The heart to heart conversation with Maximus had touched me rather well, and now, it seemed like I may have misjudged them a little too quickly.
"And that smile?" I asked.
Georgina let out a tiny bubble of laughter.
"Nothing, my dear," she assured me. "It's just funny to hear you sound like your old self again. I always found your temper amusing. You get the cutest discoloration in your face; it goes red. I always found that to be one of your most outstanding qualities."
I cocked my head.
"My face going red?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"No," she said. "The way people seem to underestimate you because of how small you are and how cute you look when you are mad. But then you'd hand them their arses on a plate." She laughed out. "It always made me proud."
I guess that was a nice thing to say. However, I still felt odd whenever these sentimental moments rose between us.
I managed to show her a kind smile.
"Okay," I eventually said. "I'm going to go read, now. My curiosity about this place is still very much unsatisfied."
Georgina nodded.
"Of course," she said. "I've put your coat back in your closet. It's clean again."
"Thank you," I said. "I appreciate it." With that said, I turned and then slowly walked out of the kitchen.
Back inside my bedroom, I changed out of my clothes and took a rather long hot shower. By the time I got out the shower my skin was red. The cold air took over quickly, once I stepped out of the hot water.
I grabbed my towel and dried off as quickly as I could. Gosh, but this bathroom could be so cold in the evenings. Once I was dry, I wrapped the towel around my hair, careful to make sure that the ends of my hair didn't drip out from beneath the twisted end.
I walked inside the bedroom and quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants, a vest and a sweater. I added a thick pair of woollen socks to my feet and then unwrapped my hair. It fell down my back rather lengthily, but I guess it would, now that the curls were wet.
I stared into the dressing table mirror and ran my hand long the length of a lock. It touched my lower back.
I picked up a hair comb and began to comb it out, beginning at the ends and working up to the roots. By the time I finished, it was already beginning to lift up and spiral.
I put the comb away and then walked over to the bedside table. I picked up my journal and then got into the bed. I lay back against the pillows and then opened the journal to the previously marked page.
As I began to read, I continuously found myself looking for signs of this apparent blossoming love between Zacarias and me within the entries. To my misfortune, I couldn't really find any. The entries were mostly detailed about school and Mathew – approaching the final days towards the end of the relationship we had. The most that came up about Zacarias was an entry here and there, crossing each other's paths randomly and stopping to make ordinary chit-chat.
After hours of reading, I was closing the gap towards the last entry. I believe this last entry was just a few weeks shy of my eighteenth birthday.
*
January 4th , 2010
I had to do it. There's really no other option at this point. Mathew won't discuss the issues with me anymore, and when I tried to discuss it now, he simply stood there, stared at the floor and said nothing.
We found him sitting on the school grounds, among his friends like always. When I approached him, he seemed to be giving me the cold shoulder. His friends acted like complete apes when I arrived, laughing and patting him on the shoulder as if they already knew my intentions.
When I finally got Mathew alone, he knew already. He knew that I was breaking up with him.
"You're breaking up with me?" he simply asked.
"You knew this was coming," I told him. "Your priorities lie elsewhere and can't keep doing this. I can't keep walking around here as if I'm not afraid for my own future."
"There is nothing messing up your future, Zelena!" he was quick to say, obviously trying to stall me away from the one thing he wouldn't discuss with me.
I got mad.
"Yes there is!" I said. "That's what you don't get!" I pointed to my forehead and then crossed my arms. "I can't do this anymore, Mathew. Never mind the issue I have with becoming a princess, but the way we are falling apart."
He looked up at me, a look of guilt in his face.
"Do I mean nothing to you anymore?" I asked him.
"You mean everything to me," he said.
I looked into his face but all I saw was hurt, desperation and disappointment.
"You're lying," I said. "If I really was, you wouldn't blow me off all the time. You would communicate with me."
"Zelena, please," he said, whispering now. "I love you."
I started crying. My heart was pounding in my chest, each beat breaking my heart further.
"And I love you, Mathew," I cried. "But it isn't enough anymore."
He reached out towards me and I recoiled. The action alone broke me for good. I cried into my hand and turned to leave. "It's over, Mathew," I sobbed into my hand before I walked away.
I'm literally too numb to write anything more at this point. I'm finishing off the last entry here, but I don't think I'll begin the next journal right now.
The end for now. Thrive fare.
*
I closed the journal and switched off the lamps. As soon as I closed my eyes, I passed out from exhaustion, almost too deep to enjoy. The reason for this; the dreams.
***
The walls were made out of small grey stone bricks. There's a large window in one of them, in which one can see the lagoon through. It's a beautiful view; especially tonight. The moon is out and is reflected in the still water of the lagoon. There are plain black curtains hanging from the window railing.
Above me, I can see a large brown dream catcher, woven beautifully out of cotton strings and light blue beads. Several feathers hang from it.
The bed is large and extremely comfy, more comfortable than my own. The bed sheets are made from dark blue Egyptian cotton.
The ship's wheel mounted on the wall is massive; made of wood and rather well carved. There's a large ship in a bottle on the writing desk, and it's handmade.
I turned around in the bed as Zacarias climbed in on the other side. Without hesitation, I shifted over to him and crawled above him, straddling him as I placed my legs on either side of his hips. He was completely naked; His body was warm, strong to the touch and visually pleasing. Every part of his body was lined and shaped with the most beautiful tone of muscles I had ever seen. He was like a polished marble work of art. There were several scars across his chest, but I didn't really acknowledge them. I had seen them so many times. I usually took more notice of his tattoos.
Zacarias ran his strong hand along my long hair and fisted it rather tightly behind my head. I breathed out huskily as he pulled my hair back to expose my throat. He lifted himself up into a sitting position and gently brushed his lips along my throat. He caressed my naked hip tenderly with his other hand, gently running it up to my breast.
"Ye' gorgeous creature," Zacarias whispered against the base of my throat as he released my hair. "I'll love ye' until the end of time."
"Shh," I breathed through a smile.
I placed my hands on either side of his face and leaned down to kiss him. His lips were like all the most pleasing things of the world combined. Kissing him was like sunshine, the smell of lavender, the taste of peppermint, the sound of a flying arrow, the smell of rain, the warmth of a hug.
Zacarias kissed me back, softly at first, and then deepened it after several moments. The kiss was perfect. His kisses were always perfect.
His warm hands caressed the curve of my back, pulling me tighter against him. I could feel his erection growing beneath me. His hands slid tenderly over the curve of my hips before he slipped them up the front of my belly. He cupped my breasts with both hands and gently fondled them.
***
I breathed out sharply.
I opened my eyes and sat up. Heat burned in my cheeks and forehead. What the...what was that strange pulsing...between my? Oh my God.
I sat forward and cleared my throat. I put my hands against my face and rubbed my eyes. My good lord, did I just have a wet dream? How humiliating! Can a woman even have a wet dream?
I breathed in deeply and fell back on my pillow. Oh my God, what one earth just happened? Did I seriously just dream about having sex with Zacarias? That was seriously messed up. I hardly knew him!
I turned my head to the side. The morning light was already shining through the window, peeking between the crack in the curtains.
I pushed the bed covers aside and sat up. I thought nothing of the shaking in my legs as I let them fall off the edge of the bed. When I stood up, though, it was a big distraction. Why was I shaking like this? Was the thought of Zacarias actually making me weak in the knees? My God, but where was this all coming from? I've never experienced such circumstances before. What was this?
I stepped over to my curtains and opened them. The sky outside was a clear blue, but the garden was covered in a white layer of frost. It must have been sometime before eight o clock.
I looked back at the journal on the bedside table and then jumped across the bed for it. Once I snatched it up, I moved over to the bookshelf and put it back in its place. I had to know more; I had to read more if I was going to find my answers.
As quickly as possible, I withdrew the sixth diary in the collection and jumped back onto the bed again. I was so curious to read on that I was multitasking, opening the journal and pulling the bed covers back over me at the same time. I sat back against the pillows and began reading.
The first entry was several weeks after the break up and my eighteenth birthday. It was dated March 2nd, 2010. By the looks of it, I was still depressed over the separation from Mathew. In addition, Zacarias is expressed somewhat more than what he was in the previous journal. I sought out the company of Zacarias over most others, because he seemed to want to listen to my problems.
The entries were somewhat brief, but as they continued, they got longer. Most of them, just like the first entry, described how I hung around with Zacarias most of the time. It was in secret though, because people still weren't very comfortable or trusting with Zacarias. Apparently, he and I preferred it this way because of how bad it would look.
Zacarias, school, parents, Zacarias, feelings, and then the subjects would repeat themselves on a loop. That's what I was most concerned about those days, so I read. There was very, very little said about Mathew.
People only look at the outside and see a negative picture of him, but they don't understand what's going on inside him. I confided in him and in return, he too, confided in me. He showed me a deeper part of him; one that's passionate about so many things. He is educated well, in addition. Despite the messes he lived through on that pirate ship, he bought old books to learn from. When the ship was docked, he sought out tutors to explain things in those books when he couldn't understand, I wrote in one entry.
Yes, yes, that was all fine and dandy, but what was it that really made me want him? It couldn't have just been the deep things. It had to be the outside too, right?
I closed the journal only to get out of bed and to get dressed. If I was going to read all day, I might as well change reading spots every few hours.
As I brushed my teeth and got dressed, I pondered about Zacarias and what these attractions may have been. If I thought about it logically, what did I currently find attractive in a man? If the memory potion wasn't meant to change personality, which meant my attractions to men then couldn't be different from now, right.
I'll have to think logically.
What did I like in a potential partner?
Good guys or bad guys? A good guy seemed fairly attractive, but a bad boy who's good to his girl seemed somewhat better.
This was actually difficult. I have never actually thought about men like this before. Since I could remember, my fake memories don't reveal me taking a shine to any boy while growing up, or even when I was out of school. I was never interested in dating. Men irritated me; people in general irritated me.
Blue eyes...they are okay. I was attracted to brown eyes more. Damn! Zacarias had brown eyes. What about hair? Light or dark? I liked dark. Damn again, Zacarias had black hair. Did I like it long or short? I liked men with short hair.
Did I have a body or appearance type? One that was specific? Yes, of course I did. I'm shallow, so I liked handsome and strong men.
I sort of hated myself for that; for being shallow.
What else? Mystery, a sense of humour, protectiveness, adventure.
Confusion peeked at all corners around me. Zacarias had many of these aspects. How did he seem so physically perfect yet he made me want to throw myself off a bridge? For the bigger picture, I was starting to see him differently and I didn't like it. He wasn't shady to me, anymore.
I slipped a pair of boots onto my feet and put on a light blue cotton trench coat that I found inside my closet. With that done, I picked up the journal and made my way outside.
The house was empty.
Once outside, I walked out to the travel paths and headed towards the village market. I remembered passing a park while heading this way, once.
After walking for several minutes, the park came into view. I headed into it and then found a place to sit on a vacant wooden park bench. It was comfortable enough, positioned in direct sunlight too. The air was cold, but I didn't mind. The sunlight would keep me warm enough after a short while.
I opened the journal and continued to read.
April 18th, 2010
Zacarias and I met by the docks after I finished school for the day. He helped me with some mathematics homework. My god, but he's a genius for someone who never experienced a schooling environment. However, it's a secret. That's not the first secret. He told me plenty others today, secrets that he's never told anyone before. He said that if I trusted him so easily with my secrets about my past relationship with Mathew, he could trust me with his "petty life secrets" – so he called it.
We had a sort of back and forth routine with it. He revealed a secret – big or small – and then I revealed a secret – big or small.
It kind something like this order;
He loves the sea, loves sailing and exploring; this was the one thing that he did like while amongst pirates.
I hate knife throwing, because I can't seem to hit anything with the blade.
He hates to see women being disrespected.
I love food.
He loves food too; and rum. Kind of an embarrassing stereotype and probably the only other thing that associates him with pirates, but he likes the strong aftertaste.
I laughed at that one because it was true.
I'm shallow.
He said that he's vain.
I am deathly afraid of wolves and all other wild dogs.
He is deathly afraid to be associated with pirates, again.
I guess he won then. That last secret kind of got to me. When he saw my change in expression, he changed the subject. He said he can throw knives and he will teach me.
The depth in which I read about Zacarias didn't stop there. As I continued to read the entries, the deep conversations and secrets kept pouring out at me. Zacarias hadn't been lying when he said he would teach me how to throw knives. He took me out to the woods frequently and taught me how to throw knives, right until I was so good at it that I could do it blind folded.
The time we spent together was also frequent.
Practicing with weapons didn't stop there. We practiced sword fighting a lot, perfecting our techniques together by exchanging what we knew and working on it intently.
He made me many promises and fulfilled most of them. One of the deepest promises that he made to me was to take me out on the sea one day, out on a voyage. That one is apparently still pending, though.
Seven months after I broke up with Mathew, Zacarias and I shared a first kiss. According to what I wrote, it was the best kiss I had ever experienced.
Things were rather different with Zacarias. While he still isolated himself and put up walls against everyone who did not want to associate with him, he opened his walls to me. He let me into his heart and soul. In addition to trusting me with his secrets, he told me about his inner demons; which were not written down in the journal. Apparently, I hadn't cared about his past and inner demons.
Zacarias previously admitted to me that he was vain and I wrote about seeing it on occasion. There were times when he'd openly express his vanity by looking into a mirror and bragging about what a dashing rapscallion he was looking at. Apparently, I found this to be more charmingly amusing than actual vanity and we'd laugh about for minutes on end.
He seemed to openly refer to himself as a scoundrel, but he seemed more like a gentleman around me; literally! I'm talking about holding open doors and giving me his coat when I was cold. Speaking in a mannered fashion and refrained from curse words around me.
Sometime after I turned nineteen, I snuck out and met Zacarias in the forest for a moonlight stroll. During this activity, we came across a pack of wolves; actually they were wild dogs, but they are similar, so I was afraid. When I froze up, petrified of them, Zacarias killed one and chased the others off.
He promised to never tell a soul about my fear of wolves, or about that situation. So, I then embraced him and told him that I loved him for the first time.
His response to it; "Damn! I wanted te' be the first te' say it," so I wrote.
Fourteen months after breaking up with Mathew, the entries were beginning to become rather intimate, not suitable for anyone younger than eighteen. God, I should have put an age restriction or a lock on it, or...something.
March, 2011 was the date of the entry in which I wrote about having sex with Zacarias for the first time.
I had lost my virginity to Mathew when I was seventeen, but with Zacarias, I feel as though I have lost it all over again, were my written words to describe it.
Two weeks later, I wrote an entry that didn't describe any specific love making session, but described love making with Zacarias in general.
March 30th, 2011
The experiences with Zacarias seem to only be getting better and better with each passing day. Now that we've started doing more of the physical stuff, Zacarias and I, I couldn't possibly love him more. Sex with Zacarias, its rather different, but in the best way.
Back one year, sex with Mathew was always a little bit fast. I enjoyed it, but I never always finished. Zacarias takes lovemaking slowly, with a rather generous duration of foreplay. When we start making love, he takes it slow and usually progresses roughly towards the end.
I might be struck by lightning for it, but I've learned a lot about my sexuality from Zacarias. I like the way we do it. It's got some other kind of passion to it, a hard passion that leaves me perfectly satisfied each and every single time. He's an amazing lover, the best kisser and if I could spend the rest of my life with him, I'd never love another man like this, ever again.
The entries after this one were the ones that started getting to me on a more bashful side. These next entries described several sessions where Zacarias and I had made love. Let me say that all the details were in-depth and explicit. According to the entries, the longest session we had was a total of three hours. Good lord.
As I read through them, I found myself looking up to check that no one was anywhere close by. Should someone spot the details while passing by, or even suspect of what I was reading, I'd probably never live down the embarrassment.
Up until today, I wasn't even aware that I had already lost my virginity. As far as my fake memories have lead me to believe, I'm a virgin right now. I guess not, however, I could defiantly clarify that this shocked me.
I cleared my throat and crossed one leg over the other. This information made me feel uncomfortable. Of all the craziest things I've experienced over the past two weeks, this one certainly took the cake. Not to mention the pressure that was building up on my shoulders from knowing all in information.
I breathed in deeply and forced myself to read on. The dates between the entries were spaced apart rather generously.
The change in the entries only occurred during September of that year, and this is where my dislike for Eustace became defiant.
Just four months before I turned twenty, Eustace spotted Zacarias and I together and revealed it amongst the other novices. Back then I wrote about how it was seen as a disgrace for people with good reputations to be around those with bad reputations – the outcasts within the kingdom. Zacarias was an outcast because his father was a pirate.
The last entry of the journal ended there.
I closed it up and looked around me. The morning had grown warmer. By the position of the sun above me, I attempted to guess that it was sometime around twelve or a little bit thereafter.
The park was teaming with life now as people walked around freely.
I stood up and immediately made my way back up the park grounds. I needed to know what happened next and the seventh journal was still back in the shelf at the house.
I walked back up the path with haste. When I arrived home, I stopped inside the kitchen to grab some food from the refrigerator. There wasn't much, as we usually eat meals at the academy. I took a look inside the kitchen pantry instead. There was a better variety to choose from and in the end, I settled on a bag of pretzels.
I snatched the bag from the pantry and then went back to my bedroom. I immediately replaced the journal in the bookshelf and then pulled out the seventh one. With both needed items in my arms, I sat down on my bed and opened them up.
As I began the first entry of the seventh diary, I ate the pretzels. The beginning didn't really start out well. The entries were frequent but brief. They mostly outlined what happened after Eustace told our secret to the other novices. A lot of distraught went on amongst the people of the kingdom.
Once the other novices knew about my relationship with Zacarias, the gossip was brutal. After the gossip spread between the novices, in turn, it reached the people in the order, and then the council. A lot of people were upset about it, mainly Georgina and the rest of my family.
Three months after the secret was out, people started to get over the apparent disgrace I brought upon myself and at least pretended to make an effort to see past negatives thrust over Zacarias. The family seemed to be the first to lead with that. They at least pretended to see the good in Zacarias and gave him a chance to show them that his father's sins were not encrusted within him.
On my twentieth birthday, I received my Order of Woodbridge warrior's coat and pendant. I joined the Order of Woodbridge.
At this point, Zacarias and I were very much inseparable. However, when Eustace joined the order two months after me, in March of 2012, he made sure that the scandal was brutal amongst the first years. He turned it into slander rather quickly. So, I apparently challenged him to a duel of honor. The entry expressed that if I won, he would reveal the lies that he was spreading to be untrue and will talk no further of me and Zacarias. Eustace agreed to the duel with his own terms. If he won, I had to hand over the honor of being the best warrior of our year.
I agreed to his terms and then put him on his arse. After that, he honored the agreed terms and revealed the lies to the other first years. From then on the scandal seemed to fade.
I was four months after my twentieth birthday when everything changed. After April that year, the entries got shorter and shorter and less frequent – due to suppressed time. I witnesses Agamemnon's associate kill someone. After this, the entries stopped after that, in the very middle of the journal. The pages after that were left blank.
So that was it, then? That was my story? Hot sex, warriors and battles of honor?
I closed the journal and put it down on the bedside table.
With a great sigh, I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes to think. I felt strange; like guilt, stress, pressure and discomfort have formed a brand new emotion and were vigorously multiplying within me. Not to mention there was the confusion. Maximus had been right. With knowing this information came great pressure. And what was worse, after reading all those details on Zacarias, the inner being of him was suddenly holding onto my heart.
If it touched me back then, it would defiantly touch me again. This proved that I was the same person that I was then.
I could actually feel it; the attraction. I felt...attracted to him; couldn't get him out of my head – and that is what frightened me. It made me nauseous to admit it to myself. I couldn't remember loving him, but I would seem that my body did...just like Robin said about shooting a bow; it just needed a reminder.
No! This was bad! I only met him two weeks ago, but over the course of three days, my whole perspective of him changed. Zacarias was a stranger to me, but at the same time, I felt as if I knew him.
I felt guilty for how coldly I treated him the past two weeks.