“It wasn’t me. It was just…” She was frowning at me. God, she looked angry, scared maybe. I wasn’t sure. “Time, I guess.”
Her frown deepened.
“You’ve been asleep for a very long time.” I said slowly. “A very, very long time.”
“I do not understand.”
I took a step toward her, and she shrunk back further, so I stopped. My hands were shaking. God, she looked so much like that girl from my dream. That was so stupid. That was a dream. It wasn’t real. But neither was the fairytale, yet here I was talking with a few centuries old princess.
No, I wasn’t. I was going to wake up any minute now. It didn’t feel like a dream, though.
“You were cursed… I think.” I shrugged. “Your story is a fairytale now—a bedtime story for children.”
She was shaking her head when she rose from the bed and rushed to the window.
“Wait—”
“Oh,” she breathed, looking out at the dark forest, only illuminated by the moonlight, which was abnormally bright. You couldn’t see much, but it was clear she couldn’t see what she’d expected to.
When she turned back toward me, there were tears in her eyes, like she finally understood what I’d been trying to say. I was not the right person for this. I wasn’t good with people. I was a loner stoner. And then, she started breathing heavily, a feeling I knew all too well, and I went to her.
She didn’t stop me this time as I took her arms in mine.
“Hey,” I said softly, “Listen, what do you see?”
She shook her head, her breath getting quicker. I almost thought she’d just shake me off and let the panic consume her.
“Look around, what do you see?”
“My room.” She shook her head again, her breath growing quicker as her eyes started to swell with tears.
“What else?” I whispered, trying to look into her eyes.
“My…armoire.”
I nodded. “What do you feel?”
“Your… hands,” she said, still not meeting my eyes.
“What can you hear?” I asked.
“Birds.”
“What can you smell?”
“The dust,” she muttered, and I could feel her calming finally.
“And can you taste anything?”
Her stomach gave a growl. That was probably a no. She shook her head.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
She nodded, then promptly shook her head before falling into my arms and crying. They were heavy sobs that shook us both and made me want to cry with her. But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move, I didn’t pull away. I just held her, let her cry, and did whatever she needed right then. I didn’t even know why.
Chapter 8
I’ve never been good at sorting out my own problems. Obviously, since I get high or drunk to numb my own traumatic memories and get into trouble to get my uncle’s attention. So, why I thought for even a second I’d be able to help her with hers was beyond me, but I was going to try regardless.
It was getting late when Aurora finally calmed down enough to pull herself away from me again. And she did pull away, halfway across the room and far from my reach. I guess that was just as well. She didn’t know me, even if I was so sure I knew her.
I hated that she was afraid of me—hated that she was afraid of anything. I hated that I was still in this dream. When was I going to wake up already?
I’d only just had this thought when I felt the ground begin to shake. I’d only ever felt small earthquakes, but they were enough to know we weren’t safe in this old tower. And with every second, it was getting worse.
Aurora looked to me, panicked.
“We have to go,” I called, rushing to the window. There was no way we were making to the ground by stairs.
It wasn’t that far of a jump. I hoped.
“No.” She shook her head furiously, cowering further into the corner.
“You can’t stay here. At least let me get you somewhere safe.”
Small pieces of stone began falling from the ceiling, one landing just shy of her shoulder, and she jumped from the floor. She raced across the room to me, grabbing the book. No, she wasn’t coming for me, just for the book.
She turned back toward the door where I’d entered, and a beam from the ceiling came down, blocking it entirely. She shrieked before she finally ran to me.
“What do we do?” She asked, not meeting my eyes as she scanned the darkness outside.
“Jump,” I breathed.
She looked up at me with wide eyes, shaking her head furiously. I think we both knew it wasn’t safe inside anymore, but she was clearly scared.
I took her shoulders in my hands. “You can do this, okay?”
She shook her head again, but another beam fell, then she nodded. So much doubt in those eyes. How I wished we could start over.
I didn’t say that. Instead, I counted down “One, two, three!”
I am not normally a believer in magic, but when we reached the bottom of the tower, I was not expecting the walking trail I’d been on what felt like hours earlier to greet us. I guess at that point, I should have started believing in magic. All things considered, there wasn’t a more logical explanation.
I looked up, and I could no longer see the tower window hidden amongst the darkness of the trees. And when I looked at Aurora, I realized she was looking up at it, too.
Aurora stiffened, clutching my arm. I wasn’t sure what this used to be, all this forest around us. A castle? A kingdom? Maybe it meant something to her, but I didn’t have the heart to ask.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.
The words had only just escaped my lips when I heard voices. Flashlights danced across the trail to our right, and in the beam, I could only just make out the shine of a badge. I knew what those looked like anywhere.
I jumped to my feet. “We can’t…we can’t stay here.”
She nodded as I pulled her onto her feet and into the woods, away from the walking trail, which was my only clue about how to get back to the house. I held tight to Aurora’s sleeve, tugging her along as I tried to avoid the beam of the security’s flashlight.
We weren’t exactly quiet. I heard a shout in French and footsteps following. My heart was pounding, and not just from the run.
“Who are they?” she asked as we ducked behind a tree, and I clamped a hand over her mouth.
“They’re security guards,” I hissed. “I think. Be quiet. If they see us, I’m dead meat.”
“But they’re the guard, they can take me to—” At least she was whispering.
“No, they can’t.”
She gave me a stern frown, and I huffed.
“Look, I’m trying to help you here, but if you want to go reveal yourself to a police -figure in the middle of the night with no ID and a backstory out of a young adult novel, be my guest.”
“You’re trying to help me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah, for reasons unbeknownst to me.” I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, okay? But…I’m not a bad enough person to just leave you out here. So, at least let me get you safe, fed—” I looked at her dirty dress. “Clothed? After that, you can decide what you want to do, sound good?”
She let out a soft breath and nodded. I could see the light beam retreating back toward the walking trail, away from us. They must have given up.
“Okay, I think the coast is clear, and by some miracle I actually know where we are. So, we’re close. One last run?”
My phone buzzed as Aurora and I reached the house. Nash was headed to a dinner meeting with Autumn.
“Don’t wait up,” he said.
At the very least, I didn’t have to explain Aurora to Nash—yet.
Aurora followed me inside almost silently. Her eyes danced around the tiny galley kitchen, and settled on minor details of the workings. Her gaze had only just made its way back to me when she let ou
t a tired sigh.
“Hungry?” I asked, and her eyes lit up. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
I felt a laugh escape my lips as I started digging in the cabinets and tiny pantry. There wasn’t a lot, but one thing was clear; Autumn had been there. I had a feeling pancake mix was not exactly a French staple. Autumn did know that it was one of the few things I could cook for myself.
“Breakfast for dinner.” I smiled.
Aurora looked blankly at the box, then up at me with a puzzled expression.
I opened my mouth to explain and quickly changed my mind. “Why don’t you just take a shower, and I’ll get dinner started.”
I led Aurora out of the tiny kitchen and into the equally tiny bathroom. Her eyes widened when I flipped on the light, and I was reminded that I’d have to catch her up on things like electricity. If she stayed, that was.
No, she wasn’t staying. She was just getting settled until she could go…somewhere else—anywhere else. So long as I didn’t have to explain her to Nash. Talk spreadsheets with that man all day, sure, but there’s no telling him a fairytale princess was awoken by his niece in a tower in the woods.
I reached into the cabinet above the toilet and pulled out a towel.
“Here,” I sighed. “You can get cleaned up in here. I don’t really know what the water heater is like, so don’t spend…so…”
Aurora was looking at me like I wasn’t speaking English. Then again, it wasn’t like English was her first language, anyway. Either way, she had no clue what I was talking about.
I stepped around her and turned on the shower. Her eyes widened and she peered into the shower, scanning it.
“You control the rain?” She looked at me like I was a witch. I mean, I did sort of dress like one sometimes. “Magic.”
I choked on a laugh. “No, it’s science.”
She nodded, but I could tell she was not convinced. Then she let out a quick breath and held her arms out wide.
“You may undress me now.” She said matter-of-factly.
At least ask me on a date first. “Oh, no. You’re going to have to learn to tackle that on your own. I have dinner to cook.”
Her arms fell flat, and she frowned like I’d deeply offended her.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“But how will I—”
“Look,” I sighed. “I’m not a…a dressing maid, okay? And you better hurry because I really don’t know how long that water will be hot.”
I heard a huff as I slipped out of the room and shut the door behind me.
I’d nearly finished dinner when Aurora began shouting my name at the top of her lungs.
“What?” I called down the hall, stopping dead in my tracks in the bathroom doorway to cover my eyes. She was naked. “Why—why—why are you shouting?”
“There’s no bell,” she replied innocently, waving around the room.
The fan was on, the toilet freshly flushed, still running, and the sink was going full blast like she might have tried every switch in the room looking for some kind of butler’s bell to ring.
“What should I wear?” she asked finally.
I let out a sigh but refrained from reminding her that I wasn’t a maid or a servant, because the truth of the matter was, she wasn’t raised to do things herself. Instead, I darted into my room and grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the suitcase Nash had packed. At least someone could get use out of them. They were way to tiny for me.
I set the clothes on the counter of the bathroom, trying to avoid looking at her, while I shut the door. My hand was still on the doorknob when she piped up again.
“What is this?” She huffed. “These are the shortest—trousers? I cannot possibly—”
I suppressed a laugh. “They’re called shorts. You’re in the 21st century now, no one cares if you show a little leg. Besides, no one’s here but me, and you clearly don’t care if I see you stark naked. You better hurry. Dinner’s getting cold.”
Aurora stumbled a couple times, making a loud thud against the wall. I thought about checking on her, but she didn’t say anything. Maybe she’d never had to put on underwear before for all I knew. She was in the kitchen with my shorts on backwards a few minutes later.
I set a plate of pancakes down in front of us both and sat down. She eyed the table for a moment before clumsily pulling out her chair. I wondered how many things she was suddenly about to be forced to do for herself that she’d never done before.
“Thank you,” Aurora said softly, but she didn’t look up.
“You’re welcome,” I sighed, stuffing a bite of pancake into my mouth.
She grabbed the fork carefully and looked around for a moment before looking up at me. Her mouth opened, then shut firmly again.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“This simply is not how you set a table. I—could I have a knife, please?”
I grinned, getting up and grabbing a butter knife from the silverware drawer.
“Thank you.”
She took the knife and began carefully cutting the pancakes into the tiniest bites I’d ever seen. She chewed slowly, precisely. Shit, she must have thought I was some wild animal. I was halfway done already.
“You know—” I started, but I let out a breath and shook my head. She didn’t need to know that being overly ladylike wasn’t necessary. I had a feeling that being ladylike just might be all she had right now, and who was I to take that away?
“What is it?” She asked after she’d carefully chewed her miniscule bite.
“Nothing.” I smiled. “Never mind, it wasn’t important.”
She nodded, and we finished eating in silence. Or, rather, I finished eating, and left her to her tiny bites to wash up the kitchen and try to make it look like only one person was eating dinner here rather than two.
I’d explain things to Nash eventually, maybe. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to. I mean, she wasn’t interested in sticking around. She wanted to stay somewhere else. I was just a stepping stone, right? Maybe I could get her on her way before Nash even knew she was here.
She nearly dropped the plate trying to get up and bring it to me. I wasn’t sure if she was clumsy naturally or just because she was trying to do things she’d never before had to do. Either way, her frustration about it was kind of adorable. But I wasn’t about to say so.
I put away the dishes and led Aurora down the hall to the room where she’d be sleeping.
“Listen,” I sighed. “My uncle… He can’t know you’re here, okay? It’s a lot to explain, but I’m already in trouble with him. So, just… be quiet, as best you can?”
Aurora nodded, clinging to the book she’d brought back from the tower. I wondered what she’d think if she knew I’d looked inside. I hadn’t meant to pry into someone else’s stuff. That is, I didn’t figure after all that time that anyone alive would mind.
“I’ll, uh,” I let out a nervous breath, “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Yes, sleep well.” She smiled. It was forced, almost pained, but I had a feeling that for now, that was the most I was going to get.
“You, too.”
I slipped out and shut the door behind me. What was I doing?
“Hey,” Nash said from my doorway.
“Hey,” I said back, not looking up from my sketchbook. “How was dinner with Autumn?”
“Oh, um. Good. Just a business dinner, you know.”
“Mhmm.”
“So,” he sighed. “I know where you were earlier.”
I felt the blood run from my face.
“It’s fine,” he continued, “It’s beautiful here, that’s why I chose this place instead of a hotel. I thought… I thought maybe you’d draw or something instead of going bored out of your mind like you do in the penthouse.”
I set my sketchbook down and looked up at him. I instinctively raised an eyebrow. He did something for me for once?
“Okay, okay, Autumn, suggested that it would be better for you.”
>
A laugh slipped out my lips as I looked back down at my notebook. “Of course, she did.”
He let out a sigh. “Listen, I don’t think it’s safe for you to be crossing that major highway like that, so I’ve taken the liberty of getting your own driver for the summer.”
I looked up at him again. “But I thought—”
“I will still be keeping an eye on you. It’s not like you’ll be allowed to do whatever you want, and it won’t be Gordon, so you won’t be able to ‘pretty please’ your way about the city. But Autumn thinks, and I agree, that forcing you to wait until my work-day is finished might be a bit much.”
“So you’re going to be working longer days again?” My eyes began to swell, so I gritted my teeth and looked down. Two days in, and he’s already going to be sleeping at the office.
“No, not like that.” He let out a breath. “But there may be a day or two when I stay a bit longer. Punishment or not, you’re… you’re still a kid.”
I met his eyes. He was different. Ever since the plane. Or maybe it was Autumn. Or maybe it was Autumn seeing me on the plane. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to hug him or punch him, so I grabbed my sketchbook again instead.
“Thanks, Nash,” I said, twirling my pencil in my hand.
“I’m headed to bed. You probably should be, too.”
Chapter 9
I barely slept that night, though I tried really hard. My mind raced from the same old nightmares early in the morning. And while staring at the ceiling for the better part of an hour just day dreaming about seeing Aurora for the first time was nice, once I was awake, I was awake.
And day-dreaming about Aurora reminded me that there was a very good chance I’d dreamed the whole day before, and she wasn’t asleep in our spare room.
That thought haunted me until I couldn’t bear the thought of going back to sleep. I got up, got dressed, and crept into the hallway. The door to Nash’s room was still closed, and I couldn’t hear him bustling about yet, so I poked my head into the spare room as quietly as I could.
I could see a figure lying in the bed from the doorway, so I closed the door and let out a sigh. I had not dreamed the day before. I really had woken Sleeping Beauty. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or more anxious.
Waking Rory Page 5