The Gentleman

by H. P. Mallory

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Let me attempt to explain,” he started. “I had moments when I could feel something. Almost like it was pulling me, or calling to me. It was a feeling I never understood until I entered the dreamscape, and then it all made sense. Then I could understand that a girl needed me.” He was quiet for a few seconds as he seemed to recall all of the incidents that happened. “And in my slumber, I could go to you, and respond to your magnetism.”

  “Probably during the worst times when I found it especially hard to bear,” I replied with a sigh, reluctantly dredging up some of the uncomfortable memories.

  “Yes, perhaps.”

  We were quiet as we continued forward. I noticed that he seemed to be counting the trees that we passed, and he reached out and placed his palm on the trunks of every fifth or sixth tree for maybe a second or so. Then he would pull his hand away again before we continued forward.

  “So our connection allowed you to enter my mind?” I asked. I was still fascinated that this tie between us even existed and, more importantly, I longed to know how it worked.

  “You allowed me to enter your mind,” he corrected me. “And it was no easy feat. I tried for days, for several hours at a time, trying to access your subconscious, just to get a glimpse into your head. Then once I could finally manage to do so, I got just as lost inside this forest as you were. I’ve been wandering through it, and looking for you, ever since.”

  “You mean, you’ve been inside my head this whole time?” I asked as I settled against his hard chest. For once, I felt safe and warm and relieved.

  “Yes, I’ve been trying to find you for a long time,” he answered as he glanced down at me with a smile. Stretching his right hand out, he began touching one of the trees again. I thought it odd, but I said nothing.

  “How did you know I was in trouble?”

  “I can’t really explain it,” he answered with a shrug.

  “Try to.”

  Another shrug. “I just felt something—a deep, unsettled feeling in my gut. When I searched for you, you were nowhere to be found. Then I learned from Mathilda that you were trapped inside your own subconscious. That’s when I knew that I had to do something.”

  “How did you manage to get inside my head?” I asked, utterly amazed. “Mercedes, the prophetess, required a whole lot of magic.”

  “Ah, because I am fae, and a powerful one at that,” Dureau answered with a self-impressed smile. He reminded me of Sinjin. “That is not to say it was an easy feat either. It was more than difficult, to be honest.”

  “Does my sister know you’re here with me?”

  “No,” he answered before wrapping his arms around me even tighter while I cuddled into him. I was never one for physical intimacy, but right then, I needed to feel his strong body and radiant warmth badly. I literally required it now, more than ever before. Dureau felt so right. He felt good.

  “Then how?” I started.

  “I had to do this alone,” he replied. “The vampire,” he began, but I interrupted him.

  “Sinjin?”

  “Sinjin is very protective of you, and he refused to leave your side.”

  At the mention of Sinjin, something inside me grew lighter. If Dureau came here to help me find the flame to lead us back to the outside world, that meant I’d see Sinjin again! That single thought filled me with renewed hope.

  “The vampire is not very fond of me,” Dureau continued. “I have seen the way he regards me—with doubt and suspicion. So I was not surprised that he failed to welcome me to your bedside.”

  “I understand,” I answered. And I did understand. Dureau was right—Sinjin never trusted him. And I couldn’t blame Sinjin for that. He was protective, and that very trait made him suspicious of anyone he didn’t know. There was a very good reason that Sinjin had managed to stay alive for more than six centuries. And gullibility wasn’t the reason.

  Dureau reached out and touched one of the trees again, but this time, I ventured to learn the reason behind his ritual. “Why do you keep doing that?”

  “I left my imprint on the trees that were nearest the flame when I entered your mind,” he responded casually. “I did that in order to find my way back.”

  “Like leaving a trail of bread crumbs?”

  “Yes, they are very similar,” he answered as he glanced down at me with a broad grin. “This forest you’ve created in your mind is colossal in its magnitude, Bryn,” he added with a laugh. “So it’s probably a good thing I did.”

  “Are you sensing the imprint you left on the trees every time you touch one of them?” I asked, and he nodded. “And are we going the right way?”

  “Yes,” he responded as we continued forward.

  We walked in silence for what felt like many minutes. Every minute or so, he checked our path against the trees and seemed satisfied with the direction we were going because he didn’t change it.

  “Why has no one ever heard of you before?” I asked, breaking the silence that descended between us. “I thought my sister knew everyone in her kingdom.”

  “I am from a fae clan that prefers to lie low, although we recognize our kinship with the other fae. We prefer to avoid any outside influences. We choose to remain isolated unto ourselves.”

  I understood his need for isolation. I really did. There were times when I felt suffocated by all the people around me, times when I wanted to escape into the woods so I could live the rest of my life alone. And then there were also times when I welcomed the social interactions of Kinloch Kirk. For now, I couldn’t make up my mind who I truly wanted to be.

  “Then why did you emerge from your voluntary seclusion?” I asked. “Why did you endorse the queen’s cause?” Hearing what I’d just said, I quickly added, “Or did you?”

  “I did,” he answered with a clipped nod.

  “Why?”

  “Because of you,” he answered. “The link between us was growing stronger day by day. I couldn’t make sense of the constant hunger that niggled at me, and feeling like someone needed me, that you needed me. When I approached our elder, Therese, she explained who you were and also who Mathilda was.”

  “How did she know who I was?”

  “She’s a seer,” he explained. “She sees and knows all.” He took a breath before he continued. “So, as soon as she told me what she believed my purpose in life was, I set out to fulfill it.”

  “Then do you think she saw this exact moment?”

  “Perhaps,” he answered. “Although it is hard to tell. She often speaks in riddles, making it difficult at times to fully understand the point she is trying to make.” He tightened his hold around me. “But the most important thing to remember is that I did manage to find you, and I will break you out of this self-imposed prison.” He was silent for the space of a few seconds. “And I believe that is my mission.”

  “Then do you intend to leave once you have freed us both?” I asked, suddenly hating the idea of being all alone again.

  “I didn’t say that,” he answered with a laugh.

  “Then what are your plans?”

  “My plans should be of little focus to you now,” he replied. “Once we reach the flame and return to the real world, you will need some time to rest and heal. Your body has been through one hell of an ordeal. It will take you a while to fully recuperate and come out of this, Bryn.”

  “I’m strong,” I started.

  But he shook his head and interrupted me. “You will need to take plenty of time to heal.” Before I could further argue, he stopped walking. “We’ve reached the flame!” he said, and I glanced up. The bright, orange-red fire seemed to be dancing when it appeared before us.

  SIXTEEN

  Bryn

  I blinked. Once, twice … and then I saw Sinjin.

  “Bryn?” he asked, and his voice sounded so raw and pained.

  “How long have I been …” I started to say before tossing my head from one side to the other and taking in my surroundings. I w
as still in the same room I’d been in when Mercedes had first performed the spell that allowed Sinjin and Jolie to access my mind.

  “A few days,” he answered. A few days here maybe, but it was a week or longer in my mind. Interesting …

  I allowed my gaze to rest on him and swallowed hard. He was just as handsome as I remembered, his ice-blue eyes were filled with tenderness and sincere concern, not to mention relief.

  “I guess time moves slower out here,” I quipped, leaning forward and bracing myself as I tried to sit up. But my body refused to comply, and I was promptly punished by a severe pain right between my eyes. I clenched my eyes closed tightly and tried to raise my hand to my temple, but I couldn’t move it.

  “Are you feeling well?” Sinjin asked, his voice suddenly sounding panicked.

  “I’m fine,” I answered. I remembered Dureau’s advice to take my time and just rest and heal. Speaking of whom … “Where is Dureau?” I asked, glancing around the room again, half expecting him to pop out from any corner.

  “Who?” Sinjin asked, but his tone had become clipped and impatient.

  “Dureau Chevalier,” I answered, resting my eyes on Sinjin and his pinched expression. “Hasn’t he been here?”

  “No,” Sinjin answered. “The only people who came here are your sister, Mathilda, and, of course, I, your devoted servant.”

  “Oh,” I answered, and pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Dureau said he didn’t have to access this room in order to reach me. He accomplished it purely through his own fae powers. That could only mean he was very strong indeed.

  “How did you manage to find your way out?” Sinjin asked.

  “Dureau came in and found me,” I answered, choosing to be honest. However, I found no pleasure in the pain that suddenly clouded Sinjin’s eyes. Or maybe it was jealousy. Sinjin couldn’t really experience pain. In order to know what pain felt like, he needed to feel true intimacy and love, two human states that I seriously doubted were included in his repertoire of emotions.

  “How could he have accomplished that?” Sinjin demanded. “I never left your bedside.”

  I shrugged, or at least, I tried to. “He said he found me without needing to be in close proximity.” At Sinjin’s curious expression, I continued. “I don’t understand how he did it either.” However, I wasn’t fully thinking about Dureau at the moment. No, I was still stuck on and a bit surprised to hear that Sinjin never left my bedside.

  Did he stay beside me the entire time? If that were the case, I had to admit I never expected it—I was even floored by it. Was he watching over me because he genuinely cared about me? Or was it simply out of his unflagging sense of duty? Maybe he was assigned the detail of overseeing my recovery because he rarely slept? The more I thought about that, the more sense it made.

  “I must notify your sister at once that you have awoken,” Sinjin said, pulling my attention away from my confused inner thoughts.

  “Wait,” I started as he paused from standing up and pushing his chair back.

  “Yes?”

  “You watched over me the whole time?” I asked.

  He shifted his weight on his legs, appearing somewhat uncomfortable. “I did.”

  “Did my sister ask you to do that?”

  “No.”

  “Then you weren’t assigned that particular duty by anyone?”

  He frowned. “I am crushed that you seem to find it so difficult to believe, but I watched over you of my own accord, simply because I was worried about you. I also wanted to be sure that when you first opened your eyes, you were not all alone.”

  I didn’t respond right away, and Sinjin slowly turned around before he began walking toward the door. As soon as he reached it, I called out his name. He glanced back at me with a curious expression.

  “Thank you, Sinjin.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t smile before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him. Once again, I was left to my quiet solitude. However, now I didn’t welcome it anymore because the room seemed too still, and too empty. I needed to hear the ordinary sounds of life now more than ever. And I longed for some companionship.

  A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. When it opened, Mathilda stood there holding a box in her hand. “May I come in?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course.”

  She hurried over to me and sat down on the bed, immediately taking my hands in hers.

  “Sinjin found you and told you I was awake, I’m guessing?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Dureau found me.”

  “Is he still here? Inside the kingdom?” I asked eagerly, hoping and praying he hadn’t left yet.

  “Yes, he is still here,” Mathilda answered. “And after he informed me that he was the one who rescued you, I came here as quickly as I could.” She was quiet and closed her eyes as her fingers tightened around my hands. She made a few strange expressions before opening her old, grey eyes again. “You have fared quite well,” she informed me. “Perhaps a week or maybe even less than that, and you should be back on your feet and full of good health.”

  “A week?” I asked, slightly stunned but mostly annoyed at the same time. “I can’t stay in this bed for a whole week!”

  Mathilda shook her head and laughed, but it sounded more like a tinkling bell. “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do about it, dear,” she said. “Your body has been through an extreme ordeal, and it needs time to heal.”

  Then she held out the box to me, and I immediately recognized it. “The box Jolie gave me,” I said before facing her and asking, “Why did you bring it?” I watched her running her fingers over the engraving on the top.

  “I thought it would bring you some peace to see it,” she answered as she opened the box and pulled out the photo of the princess. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she covered it as she stared at the infant in the photograph, her huge smile concealed behind her hand.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” I said, remembering the precious way Emma clowned for the camera.

  “Extremely beautiful, Bryn.” Turning to me, Mathilda brought the wooden box to my bed and sat down on the edge of it, near my feet. She rested her feet on the pine footrest and handed me the picture.

  “I believe Emma is the cutest baby I’ve ever seen,” I commented. “Not that I’ve seen many babies, mind you,” I added with a laugh.

  “She is,” Mathilda agreed, cocking her head to the side as she regarded me with spiked interest. “But this is not your niece, my dear. And this is not a box given to you by your sister.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, leaning forward to cast my eyes on the box again. “My sister gave this to me.”

  “Perhaps most recently,” Mathilda answered in that secretive way she communicated. “But unfortunately, it was never hers to give.”

  “You aren’t making any sense,” I started, and the stubborn headache began to torment me again. “I’m not sure if that’s on you, or I’m just incapable of understanding you since my brain right now is basically mush.”

  “The child in the picture is you, Bryn.”

  “Me? What?” I stared into the child’s eyes and shook my head. “That’s impossible. She looks just like the princess!”

  Mathilda leaned forward and smiled, “You two are related, you know?”

  I laughed as an overwhelming sense of joy washed over me. I’d never seen a picture of myself as a baby. The resemblance to my niece—and to Jolie—was clearly obvious to anyone. If this actually were, in fact, a picture of me. As soon as I started to wonder about that, I began to doubt that it possibly could be. To my knowledge, Luce had always owned me from the moment I was born.

  “You and Jolie were both beautiful babies. And this box.” She held up the carved pine box with my first initial engraved on the top. “This box was made by your father for you.”

  My heart nearly skipped a beat. A gift from my father—a beautiful, handmade box that he designed for me—no one else, just for me. I
was speechless, and tears began to well up in my eyes. I wasn’t sure if they were tears of happiness, sadness, or maybe both.

  I had so many questions to ask, but my throat collapsed as soon as I thought about uttering any of them. My body seemed to be caught in rebellion mode, refusing to follow any of my orders. Reaching up, I was glad to see I could swipe the tears away with my hand. I inhaled deeply, realigning my emotions. “Thank you for telling me, Mathilda. I had no idea.”

  “I know much about your youth, my dear,” Mathilda answered as she stood up to leave. “When you are ready to hear more, I will be more than glad to answer all of your questions.” Her gaze settled on the door. “Your sister will be here shortly, so I must allow you both your privacy.”

  “Thank you, Mathilda,” I said as she showed herself to the door. With a quick smile, she opened it and disappeared right before my sister threw the door open again. Seeing me, she opened her arms out wide and rushed toward me, tears wetting her cheeks.

  ***

  One Week Later

  Bryn

  I could walk around the room now more easily. I could even walk up and down the hallway, although that required a bit more effort. Afterwards, I got pretty winded too. But at least I had complete control over my body again and kept getting stronger every day.

  I had plenty of visitors too, although Jolie was my constant companion, and Mathilda visited me almost as frequently. To my surprise, Sinjin didn’t visit me, not even once. For someone who never left my bedside when I was comatose, as soon as I regained consciousness, he was nowhere to be found. Somehow, I wasn’t that surprised. What did surprise me, however, was that I never received a visit from Dureau.

  Mathilda and Jolie assured me he was still in the kingdom and busily tending to this and that. But his choice not to visit me was something that weighed heavily on my mind. I didn’t like it. Why? I wasn’t sure. I mean, the guy certainly performed his duty as far as I was concerned. He basically risked his own life to save mine, so he really didn’t owe me anything more. No, he had no obligation to me at all. And yet, I was almost offended when he never bothered to check on me even once to make sure that I was okay. And maybe there was another part of me that actually missed him.