Princess Jesma stood behind the curtains, her pounding against her ribcage. The world blurred around her. She saw him everywhere. The sun could've been playing tricks on her eyes, but it didn't matter. He was everywhere. The blonde hair, forest colored eyes, crooked smirk. She saw his mom, dad, and siblings out in the crowd. Her heart caught in her throat, threatening the tears, as she swallowed hard, sucking in a deep breath
"Princess Jesma!" a voice announced. The curtains flung open, snapping Jesma back to reality, her eyes blinking quickly. With every sparks from the cameras, her breath quickened, as she tried to find air. The crowd was quiet. She saw their glaring eyes, their judgemental whispers. She glared at the king. His smile was all too pleased. Jesma swallowed her tears, and stepped up to the podium.
"Hello... um... good morning subje-everyone. Today, I am here to discuss the subject o-of... Roland M-Markskins," she stuttered, taking another hard swallow. She saw Mrs. Markskins clutch her husband's hand, and the tears threatened to break through. Jesma took a deep breath.
No tears. Keep it buried.
"We—the knights—have yet to find him... but are still looking. Everyone is trying to find out where he is. We have the best of the best. We will—they—will find him. T-thank you." Jesma stood there like she was supposed to. She could hear Mrs. Markskins sobs, but barely above the crowd of screaming, and cursing. Cursing her name, even though she did nothing wrong. She shielded her face at the hundreds of fiery flashes from the cameras.
Jesma couldn't take it anymore and ran behind the curtain, the hot tears streaming down her face. She heard her father continue with announcements, the yells of the crowd protesting. Jesma sobbed, and hurrying up the spiral staircase, to the main part of the castle.
She rushed past all the guards, all the maids, ignoring their questions of concern. Jesma flung open her bedroom door, and fell into her bed. She shook uncontrollably with sobs, barely able to handle the pain. She wanted to scream, she wanted to curse her father... she wanted him dead.
Jesma knew the truth. She knew everything. She was at the center of it all. It... it was all her fault...
But she couldn't say.
She couldn't tell the truth.
"Jesma!" a girl with auburn curls cried, coming to Jesma's side. Callie quickly sat down next to Jesma, pulling her head into her lap, as Jesma sobbed into her skirt.
"Shhh. It's all over. Shhh," Callie soothed, stroking Jesma's caramel waves..
"But it's not! H-he's m-making me lie to them!" she cried, the shaking getting worse. Callie gulped down her own tears... and fear.
Callie heaved a sigh, as Jesma sat up, wiping her tears with the heel of her hand. Jesma and Callie shared a whole conversation just with their eyes.
"Please?" she said. Callie again heaved a huge sigh, and Jesma took Callie's hands in hers.
"Cal please... I-I... just an hour," she begs. Callie sucks on her teeth, not meeting Jesma's eyes. Callie sniffles, before looking up.
"Fine," she sighs. Jesma gives a small smile, wiping her tears, and jumping into Callie's arms.
"Thank you Cal."
"Anything for you Jes."
***
Jesma tiptoed quietly down the drippy corridor. She breathed in the coppery, wet smell, barely noticing it. Being here so many times, she had become immune to the smell. Jesma made sure not to step on any pebbles, worried she would slip.
Jesma stopped walking, her heart thumping against her chest. There was the big metal door, bolted shut. Thank goodness the guard wasn't there. She took a deep breath, before approaching the cell to her right.
She put on that pretty fake smile of hers, before crouching down in front of the cell.
"Hello, Murfeceus," she cooed. There was a scrambling sound, and out of the darkness crawled a little person. He had little wisps of hair on his head, and was gravely skinny. He smiled, showing the little teeth that he had. (Y'all he looks like Smeagol from Lord Of the Rings and is literally Dobby).
"Jesma!" he cried, laughing hysterically. Jesma laughed back, but the sadness stayed in her eyes. The illness came and went like the breeze of fall. But it was the saddest when it was there.
"How are you?" she asked. Murfeceus smiled, nodding.
"Good, good!" he cheered. Jesma laughed again, and took her spot, leaning her head against the cell bars. She pulled a small bag out of her cloak.
"Brought you something." Jesma slid the bag between the bars. Murfeceus jumped around happily, before excitedly dumped the contents of the bag. Out tumbled loaves of soft bread, packets of butter, and a doughnut.
"Ee EE! Thank you, thank you!" Murfeceus cheered, literally jumping off a wall, scarfing down the doughnut quickly.
"Do you have it?" Jesma asked, keeping her voice sweet. The little man made a confused face, and slapped his eye with his long tongue, thinking.
"Ah yes!" he giggled, pulling a copper key from out of his raggedy clothes. He placed the key in her open palm, his cold, veiny skin brushing against hers.
"You are so great Mur. You will be out soon," Jesma reassured. Murfecesus just fell over laughing hysterically. Jesma wiped away small tears, and turned back to the thick steel door. She slid the key into the lock, and turned it with a click. The door swung open. Jesma took a deep breath and walked in. The walls were gray, and flickering candles cast a glow across the room. There was an old, chandelier flickering with candles, old with rust. There was a hard cot with a thin sheet pushed up against the wall. There was a sink, and toilet to the left, and a tiny desk to the right.
But that's not why Jesma's face was twisted with fear, sadness, and horror. It was the boy. The boy with blood streaked across the face, strapped to a chair in chains, his head hung over himself.
"Oh my gosh!" Jesma cried, throwing her bag and hurriedly taking the cloak off her shoulders.. She rushed to the boy, clawing at the chains.
"Come on! Come on!" she whispered in anger. More tears threatened to come. She pulled, harder and harder until her knuckles were white. She screamed in anger. Nothing could just go her way. Everything was hard, and she just wanted to break down into a ball and sob.
But she stayed calm and tried to think logically. Jesma sucked in a deep breath, before examining the chains. She took them off, and carefully pulled them over the boy's head. They slid off and she gently set them on the ground. The boy slumped over, falling into Jesma's arms. Jesma pulled him over the wall, and laid him on her lap. She smiled.
The boy's dirty blonde hair swooped in front of his face. Jesma cautiously played her fingers across his face. She traced from his nose, then to his strong jaw. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. His fingers twitched. Jesma almost jumped back, the movement scaring her. She quickly regained her composure and laid his head on the floor, moving to the side of him, His eyes fluttered open, and revealing a burst of ice blue orbs. Jesma sucked in a breath, holding back small tears The boy looked at her quizzically. He tried to sit up, but yelped in pain, falling back to the ground. Jesma grabbed her bag, taking out the contents.
"Shhh. Don't sit up," she ordered. She took a towel, and poured some contents of a little vial on it. He stared at her, searching her eyes.
"Who..." A fit of coughing cut off his sentence.
"Who are you?" he finished. Jesma smiled, but again her eyes stayed sad.
"No one... no one," she whispered. She put the towel to a gash across his forehead. He cried in pain,swatting away her hand, and sitting up.
"What are you doing?" he seethed, backing up into the wall. Jesma shrunk back, and his face softened.
"I'm... sorry. Continue," he said, rolling his neck, his muscles trying to release. Jesma cautiously crept forward, applying the towel back to his cuts. Jesma started with his face, and then moved to his arms.
"Do you have any more?" she asked. He thought for a minute, and nodded. He pulled off his shirt. Jesma froze, eyes wide. Well that just happened, she thought. He had never done this before. But her amazement vanished at his chiseled abs and she saw the gash across his left rib.
"Love!" she cried, grabbing bandages. He smirked.
"Love? You fall fast," he laughed quietly, with that crooked smirk that made Jesma's stomach flutter. Jesma swallowed hard, as she cleaned the gash. It felt weird to run her hands over his stomach, for she had never done this. She finally finished cleaning the gash, before bandaging it.
"There. All done. Are... are you hungry?" she asked, waiting for him to put his shirt back on. He shook his head. Jesma raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, I'll just eat these raspberry jelly filled chocolate covered croissants by myself," she teased, pulling out the delicious treat, along with a plate. Jesma placed the croissants on the plate. She saw the boy's eyebrows raise up to his hairline.
"Hungry now?" Jesma chuckled. He nodded, snatching up a croissant, and scarfed it down.
"These are sooo good, thanks!" he said through chews. Jesma laughed, nibbling on the end of another croissant. They sat in silence eating the delicious treat. The boy finished off the last one.
"Thank you... princess? I assume by the fancy ring and crown," he smirked. Jesma's heart tugged. It hurt. It actually hurt. Like vines were wrapping around it squeezing the life out her bit, by bit. Princess. He only ever joked about her title. So he didn't... didn't remember... again. Tears fell down her face, and she began to sob.
"You have to remember. Please. Please try," she weeped.
"Hey, hey don't cry," he said, wrapping an arm around her. Jesma fell into him, sobbing.
"Please. I beg you please," she sobbed into his shoulder. He reached up his forefinger, placing it under her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. Jesma felt all the years rushing back, the memories. She saw a flicker of happiness pass through his eyes. He whispered something.
"What?" she asked, sniffling.
"You're so... this is gonna sound weird," he laughed, shaking his head.
"What?" Jesma asked, tucking a caramel piece of hair behind her ear. He laughed again.
"You're just... so... gorgeous," he blushed. Jesma smiled, laughing, wiping tears with the heel of her hand. He said it. He called her gorgeous. Jesma wished she could kiss him.
Like all the times before.
"Well, it's late. You should get some sleep." Jesma began to move, but he stopped her looking deep into her eyes.
One word.
One word that broke her.
"Stay?" he asked. Jesma smiled, her heart cracking into millions of pieces. It was a weird thing, as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and she snuggled into his chest.
They chuckled into the late hours of the night, until he drifted off to sleep, his head falling onto hers. Jesma wiggled out of his grip, to look at his face. She smiled just a bit. His full lips as he softly snored, his dirty blonde hair in fluffy curls. Her eyes landed onto his lips, as her tongue swiped across her own.
Just once.
One kiss. Jesma leaned in, her hand cupping his face, her lips about to brush his.
Jesma stopped by his ear.
"I love you. Please. Please, come back to me. Come back my love. I love you Roland," she whispered.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Did you guys like it?! I really hoped you guys liked it, I'm sorry it's out so late, but I worked super hard on it!!! Please, please comment with your feedback, vote and share!!!
Part 2 out later tonight!!!
Love you all!!
Xoxo
~KalaylaJo~