Red Circus

by Michelle Al Bitar

  Jonathan sniffed to keep his heartbeat within the same pace and pressed his hands against the sheets. Sometimes, he wished he knew his mother, but the solemn times entrapped his mind in a twirl of sorrows and appreciation at the same time. If he’d had the chance to know the woman who gave him life, he would never be able to get past her death, and his grievous actions would be no more than an irrational revenge against her murderer. 2217 was the year she died according to his father…

  The day Dyane had fled was the day Jonathan gained his freedom. He did not have to compete with Gabriel to show the soldiers he was the good leader. He did not have to work hard to gain the love of a woman pretending to be his mother. He did not have to pretend he was normal. He learned about his heritage the day Dyane left and now was the time to seek the truth…

  Jonathan closed his eyes, remembering the details of his mother’s face. He had seen her when he was with Gabriel in the warehouse. It must have been a figment of his imagination. A tangible one. He could do it again.

  “I can…” Jonathan muttered.

  He felt his blood boil in his veins and his head about to explode. When he opened his eyes, only a shadow of the woman appeared but nothing else.

  Jonathan sighed. He grabbed his cellulogram and dialled Charles. He wasn’t going to attend the Assembly meeting that night. He needed more time to mourn his father… and summon his mother. The Assembly had no business knowing about the latter.

  Riley had one of the queen’s guards drive her to a near hidden spot beside the castle. The queen had taken her dress and fixed it within minutes in the Wardrobe Changing Room, allowing her to rest meanwhile. As she reached the castle gates, she gave one of the sentinels her name, and he let her inside. She was exhausted and wanted to crash on her bed to sleep for a week and never wake up.

  She could not wait to see Rufus. Gabriel was already informed of Rufus’s condition and promised her he would get the best help from the West to cure him from his wretched malady. Welled up with high spirits, she looked around and found no one to escort her which was even better. The money she had gathered inside that large jar of hers was enough to pay hospital bills for a long time, of course with the help of the Phoenixes. Her smile was getting out of control as she walked through the halls looking around at everything, suddenly the dark blood-red colours of the walls turning into bright joyful berry red.

  On her way up to her chamber, she was surprised William was not waiting for her nor did he appear out of thin air to ask where she had been and express his concern over her wellbeing. Fast footsteps were following her instead. Behind her was a man in a grey beard striding to catch up with her. He was tall and muscular, though looked tired for his age, with a light scar by his eye that sung a lullaby of his heroic history. She knew who he was. He was Lord Walter, who used to be one of the strongest generals the kingdom had ever recruited, notorious for his endless victories over stronger armies.

  “Miss Red.” He reached her at last, his breathing unchanged.

  “Lord Walter. For what do I owe the pleasure?” She bowed slightly and smiled with respect.

  “I’m sorry for the rush and the sudden alteration of plans.” He lowered his eyes apologetically. His accent was a rough Regitan one. “It is my pleasure to say that I am your personal guard from this moment on.”

  She was certainly surprised at the news. Not that she refused having him as an escort, but he was known to occupy a high rank among the royals. Why would he be assigned to be her guard?

  “Oh, that’s quite… alright,” she said confused.

  “If you would like any change to occur, you have every right to inform General Juan Portland. He would see to having your wishes satisfied.”

  “No, no. Don’t get me wrong. I mean I’m certainly surprised, not sad about it.” She chuckled at his modesty. “Thank you.”

  He nodded and they shook hands.

  “What happened to William?” she asked him as they resumed walking.

  “He was sent on duty for the new King,” Lord Walter answered shortly but did not elaborate.

  “What duty?”

  He remained silent.

  Of course, she thought. If there had been battles and attacks that the kingdom had to be defended against, she would not be someone they would gladly tell.

  On her way to her bedroom to change then continue to her visit, one of the employees at the castle, a woman she had never seen before, stepped in front of her and blocked her way. She had thin glasses with a thick black outline. Riley wondered why someone would still wear glasses when a quick fix can bring back your eyesight in less than ten seconds. Her hair, as blond as it could ever be, was pulled high into a tight bun that Riley thought her skin was starting to shred. She was in her forties, not more. Her minimal make up, matching her grey suit, made her appear as if she had just stepped out of a stereotypical law firm.

  “Miss Riley Red?” she asked in a voice destroyed by years of smoking.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Charles Arnold would like to see you in his office.”

  “Who are you?” Riley said in disdain.

  Going to a meeting in a state like that was the last thing on her to-do list. And having a random woman she did not know come and tell her what to do made her want to jump at her and rip that ridiculously tight bun off her skull. There was no time to waste on meaningless meetings when she could tell Rufus right that minute about everything.

  “Ariel. Professor in Political Science.” She extended her hand to shake Riley’s politely, but the latter did not oblige.

  “Is it obligatory?”

  “I’m afraid it is. You can take the lift if you fancy. Mr. Arnold is on the seventh floor.” She smiled, nodded with courtesy, and left before Riley could say anything.

  “Urgh!” Riley sighed loudly and walked with sore legs towards the lift then the connecting corridor between tower I and tower II. Lord Walter followed like a shadow.

  “Seven,” she said loudly as the lift closed shut in the second tower and started mounting the floors. It took the elevator a second to give her a loud ting! The door slid upwards, revealing a long corridor with a series of offices. Riley marched forward, landing her eyes on each name tag screened next to the beige doors.

  Two royal guards were guarding one particular office that did not have a name tag and she assumed that was it. Before she could introduce herself to the guards, she felt a couple of eyes watching behind the door until it opened and Charles Arnold creeped out with a courteous smile.

  “Riley Red.” He extended his hand to shake hers.

  She bowed curtly and shook it.

  “Please, come inside.” He cleared the way and followed after. Their privacy was ensured as he made it clear that no one was allowed inside.

  “What’s the emergency?” The air was thick in the room, and it was not because of his strong cologne or the aroma of flowers that decorated his second small desk in the corner.

  “First of all, serve yourself with some chocolate.” He opened a small diamond-shaped box where two types of small chocolate balls were waiting to be devoured. Riley’s stomach growled, but she did not take any.

  “Thank you.” She unglued her eyes from the box and looked at him.

  “Please, that is the finest chocolate in Opesam. And you have been out of the castle for quite a while after the funeral, I can see that you are hungry.” His face was friendly at first, then in a matter seconds turned firm.

  “I’ve eaten outside the castle. Thank you,” she answered with a jaded truth. The Phoenixes offered her food, but it did not do to shut her hunger.

  “Miss Red, I would like to inform you of our new plan concerning Cirque Et Feu’s show,” he started. “It seems to us that the amount of success and delight you offer the people by performing has amounted to an audience that extended not only in Noteram, but the East in general.”

  “And?” She frowned confused.

  “And we would like to have the show permanently performed in
side the Freedian Kingdom, screened on the telly for the entire East to see without having to attend the shows.” He was speaking so eloquently that Riley was taken by his concern for the people. “They wouldn’t have to pay for the tickets, especially the poor, and they could watch it on the screen, in the streets, their homes, restaurants, anywhere.”

  Riley thought for a second. He wanted to start the project originally initiated by the king then denied by that same king after a great amount of power and effort by Riley to influence him into doing otherwise. She knew he wanted to use tricksters of the West to enforce the happiness of the people through that television show. She did not want any part of it, but with Rufus’s help she would be able to discuss it and get the entire group out of this mess.

  “What about us? How would we gain our profit?” she began with her smallest argument.

  “All the income you would gain from your shows, will be paid in double by the kingdom. You will live inside the castle with water, food, and a roof over your heads. All in return for a simple show you would perform through the week to be aired on Fridays. Be a clever girl, Red. Many people are seeking to be Elites, to relish in the opulent lifestyle. You are handed this on a silver platter. Don’t make irrational choices.”

  Riley almost lost all sense of awareness. She was staring intently into his eyes and finding sense in what he was saying. Her body was slouching forward for an affirmative answer, until she suddenly woke up from that unrealistic reverie.

  “It seems untoward that you are offering this to me, Mr. Arnold,” she asserted in a stern voice. “Rufus Patrick is our manager. He is the father of this circus and with whatever he wishes to do, I will happily comply. But don’t expect me to make a decision concerning the circus’s future when it’s not my responsibility to do so.”

  Suddenly, Charles Arnold’s face went dim. His smile turned into a sad apologetic frown. Riley’s hand dropped from the chair and her heart began to race. Her legs began to shake and her lip trembled.

  “This is not possible,” she said in a voice that was barely heard.

  “I apologize, Miss Red. He passed away moments after the king’s funeral.”

  “No… No. This is not possible. I saw him this morning and he was in perfect health.” She was silently pleading him to change his demeanour and inform her that it was all some sort of a sick joke.

  “He was in pain and left the funeral early. I honestly don’t know what happened after that. All I heard was that he was transported to the hospital wing inside the kingdom and treated by the best doctors… That sickness cannot be cured at such an advanced stage. There was nothing left to do,” he explained in a regretful tone.

  “Nothing left to do?!” Her voice was rising. Her hands shook with anger as she pushed the chair back and slammed her fist against his desk.

  ‘There was everything you could do! You only choose not to! The West had this goddamn cure for ages, but how were we to be killed off if they offered it to us?! How were we to pay for costly medicine that did nothing but quicken that death if we were cured?!’

  She wanted to scream, but she was smarter than that. It took everything inside of her not to slam that bloody white head against the glossy desk and watch his blood stain her hands.

  “I suggest you lower your voice or I will have the guards take you to your room. Now, the show must go on. Prepare yourself because your mates were already talked with, and they agreed without much of a fight. I will see you tomorrow, Miss Red.”

  The truth was slowly dawning on her, and there was nothing she could do. Tears were fighting to pour down her face with endless sobs, but she was not able to cry. She was only staring blankly at her reflection on his black desk and breathing heavily.

  “We can’t do the show tomorrow. Rufus is dead. Can’t we take one week to mourn him?” she demanded in a feeble broken voice.

  “This is no excuse. Your personal life should not interfere with your professional one.”

  “The king is dead as well,” she reminded him in the same low tone. “Don’t you think it’s only respectful not to practice for the show and dance to loud music after his death?”

  “And what is death, my dear? It’s only the death of the body, but the memory shall be eternal. We’ll be wearing black and your dance moves shall be sweet and graceful in mourning of our king’s death.” Charles stood up, towering over her. “Now, as you may see that any disobedience to a royal order is punishable by death. Your mates are already aware of that, and none tried to disregard my order. The king had agreed to this, and you shall as well. I’ll see you tomorrow in the main hallroom. We start shooting at five in the morning.”

  Riley lifted her eyes to meet his icy cold ones. If she were to stay another minute, she would flip the desk in his face and stab him until his body turned into a pile of molten flesh. Instead, she turned around and left the office silently.

  Her head hurt. Her eyes burned. Her stomach churned. Her heart hurt.

  Everything then turned motionless as she traced her steps back down the elevator. He could not have been dead. She just found the cure. She just found a way to save him. And he promised her… He promised her three months! Did they already pass? He left her to the wolves expecting her to cope without him. How was she going to cope if every wolf fiercely fought to be the alpha the moment the alpha was gone? How could he be selfish enough to move to eternal bliss and leave her in that earthly hell?

  A flash of his tired old face assaulted her memories, her train of thoughts.

  No one can work alone, Riley. There will come a time where you will need a hand to catch you when your closest tries to push you off the cliff. You will be needing eyes to watch behind you when your closest tries to stab you in the back.

  Where will you be now?

  He must be in his room. He must be in his room. Charles Arnold was trying to disturb her. Rufus would be in his room waiting for her by the window, and he would be thrilled to know that he was going to survive that disaster.

  Riley was nodding to herself encouraging her raging thoughts. Lord Walter frowned, feeling remorse and pity as he watched her tremble. He remained silent.

  There were all sorts of scenarios that she played in her mind, in all of which Rufus’s heartbeat was still heard. Then she saw Mathew. Stepping out of his chamber, he saw her through his bloodshot eyes and puffed reddened cheeks. Riley’s tears cooled down.

  Rufus Patrick was certainly dead.

  Chapter 22

  Grievance meant nothing to Riley, ever since the death of her parents, ever since that monstrous crime turned her life upside down. With Rufus’s passing, she felt everything she had eaten rise back to her throat as a molten acidic pile. There was so much she was excited to talk to him about.

  Mathew’s tears wetted her shoulders. There was barely any strength in him to keep standing up.

  “I c-can’t believe he’s g-gone,” Riley stuttered in a broken voice at last.

  He crushed her under his arms. It was as if she were the only one left with whom he could share his deepest sorrow. The light in the hallway was dim, but Riley’s face was glowing with tears. Oh, how he wished he could say the right words to comfort her. There was nothing in the world he could do to take out that soul-eating lump in their throat. Rufus was suddenly gone and they did not get the chance to say goodbye.

  Mathew closed his eyes and buried his face inside Riley’s neck, breathing heavily and slightly shaking.

  “Me neither.” He wiped his tears. “I’m sorry,” he repeated under his breath. It was meant for Riley to hear, but if Rufus could hear him too, Mathew would be eternally thankful. “I’m so sorry.”

  Riley did not say a word. She only hid her face on his shoulder and silently sobbed harder.

  After what seemed like hours of only standing and weeping, Riley sniffed and took a step back.

  “How did you find out?” he finally asked her.

  “Arnold.”

  “That—”

  “Shush,”
she placed her finger against his mouth and pointed at the ceiling and the surrounding walls.

  Hidden cameras were all placed in tiny dots and were picking up the tiniest of sounds and the slightest of movements.

  “We should do a ceremony, call a priest at least.”

  Mathew shook his head in anger and disdain.

  “You think I haven’t tried telling Charles about it?”

  “What in the bloody hell is wrong with this monster?” she groaned and didn’t care if Lord Walter heard. He had been silently listening to everything they said but did not even stir.

  “He says we should only mourn our late king. We can’t stain his memory by mourning a common man.” Mathew shook his head and looked down. He had almost lost his balance before he laid his back on the outside wall of his chamber and wiped his eyes for the hundredth time.

  “This is unacceptable. We are mourning the king, but Rufus is a man as well… a father to us. How could we let this pass without cherishing his memory in some way?”

  “I don’t know, Rye. I am really angry and tired right now. If I’m goin’ to talk with Charles again I might lose my shit.” He passed his hand over his buzz cut and sighed.

  “Who said anything about Arnold? I am going for the king.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. If you believe that I would let this go by easily, then you don’t know me at all.”

  “I—”

  Before Mathew could speak up, Riley turned around and started walking towards Jonathan’s office. Mathew caught her arm and stopped her.

  “I’m comin’ with you.”

  “No,” she answered determined. “This is something I would rather do alone.”

  “Riley…”

  “Matt, please. Trust me.”

  She was not going to seduce her way into getting whatever she wanted. She looked exhausted, her make-up smudged, and her fingers black with mascara.