The Locket (23 page)

“Yes, thank you so much,” Savannah added. “I don’t want to think about what we’d be doing if it weren’t for you. We owe you big time.”

Bertha waved a hand in the air, dismissing them. “Think nothing of it, my ducklings. If it suits you, your appreciation can be expressed by helping my husband and I around the house a bit tomorrow morning before you leave. We’re getting older and are having a harder time keeping up with the chores.”

“Yes, of course. It is the least we can do.”

Bertha nodded in gratitude. “Thank you. Now goodnight, my dears.”

“Goodnight,” they said in unison as she headed down the hall. An awkward silence followed Bertha’s departure, and in that time Savannah became pleasantly aware that the storm had at last begun to die out. Although the lightening was completely gone, the thunder lingered at a dull roar. The rain dribbled much softer on the rooftop now, the sound more calming and intoxicating than before.

Since the hail had stopped, the clouds started to part from in front of the full moon. Every star was covered, while the moon lay softly away from the blanket that shadowed every other part of the sky. Its radiance and sparkling brightness flashed into the cottage as well, bringing in the glow of the night through the kitchen windows.

Christian let out a tired yawn and stretched his arms, clearly ready for bed.

She didn’t mean to stare. She never did actually, but something about him always compelled her to, as if he was too beautiful not to.

Beautiful and secretive.

He still hadn’t told her what she really wanted to know, which was what he’d been hiding from her for the past few days. Not that she expected him to be completely honest from the start, after all, since they were strangers who had just so happened to be heading in the same direction. But after getting to know each other, and being through what they had already … it seemed so impersonal, almost hurtful. Didn’t he trust her? She’d thought that they’d become close. Close enough where … well, anyway that didn’t explain his mysterious background.

Shaking her head at her meandering thoughts, Savannah cleared the sudden tickle in her throat. “So, I don’t believe you’ve ever fully explained why you came here. To the Mysterious Forest, I mean.” Seeing the look on his face, something told her not only did she catch him off guard, but also that he wasn’t going to answer her question to the extent she wanted. Still, she was going to go for broke. “Why did you leave home?”

He did not answer right away, like she knew he wouldn’t. She didn’t expect him to answer at all, actually. To her surprise, he sighed and moved to the couch. “I cannot sum up in one answer why I left. I suppose one could say the stress of it all was a critical factor.”

She stared at him patiently, hoping he would continue with his story. Sometimes you simply have to let someone know you’re willing to listen, rather than bait them until they give you what you want. It didn’t seem to be working at first, but then he started to shift uncomfortably next to her before he shook his head and leaned in even closer. “All right, you win. However, I would prefer Bertha and her husband to stay ignorant of this matter, so we will have to converse quietly.”

When she nodded, he began. “You see, Savannah, my parents are rather … highly demanded people, and a lot of the kingdom depends on them. Although they are both responsible people who can take care of themselves as well as their family very well, that does not stop their job from being any less difficult, time-consuming, or significant.

“The problem is that I am the youngest son in our family, and my brother is neither smart enough nor responsible enough to handle such business on his own. Therefore, they are leaving our family duty in my hands, and my hands alone, when the time comes …”

“It scares you.” Savannah finished for him. He nodded, grateful that she understood. No one in his family, not even his mother, truly understood his fears. Although Savannah would never quite know what it was he was going through, at least she was sympathetic toward his situation. He could see in her eyes that she knew his hurt, and that made him happier than she would ever know.

“Yes, of course. No one can even come close to comprehending my problem. My own father keeps pushing this family business on me and training me for when I will take over. But I have no desire to take over our family duty. Maybe it is because I am scared or maybe it is because my parents keep pushing it on me so that I feel the need to run. Therefore, I ran.”

Savannah looked into his eyes, willing her compassion onto him. She needed him to know that she was listening to him and felt his pain. Taking the hand he had casually draped onto the couch, she gently ran her fingers up and down his palm, like her mother used to do for her. She wanted to hug him, to console him, to let him know that everything was okay. Reminding herself to keep her hands busy with his, she instead settled for offering him advice. “Did it ever occur to you that you’re scared because you’re worried that you are going to fail?”

He shrugged. “I suppose. If my parents thought that I would fail, they would have not readied me for this position.”

“True,” she agreed, making her way up his arm and back down to his palm. “But did you ever think that maybe you’re scared you’d fail and that you would dissatisfy your parents? That you don’t want to be put in that position because you think they’ve pushed you hard enough where anything less than perfect would be a disappointment?”

Christian paused, considering this. He had always thought himself to be an intelligent man, but he had never once thought that his fear could stem from the idea that he would disappoint his parents, or worse, his kingdom. He simply thought that it was from the purely selfish idea that he didn’t want the accountability and that he wanted to live his days as a rich, carefree bachelor. The truth in that was that he didn’t really care for that life much, and anyone that ever really knew him would have seen that.

The problem was that no one did know him, not really. They all saw him as the prince or the future king. No one had ever seen him as a person. His mother, perhaps, and even she only knew him to a certain extent. If Rupert had cared to get to know him, he would have confided in him more often. His father, on the other hand, was not too interested in getting to know his sons on a personal level. He was a good father, and no one could accuse him of being a cruel man. He simply had other things he needed to do with his time; therefore, getting to know his sons was out of his limits.

Savannah was different.

Right from the start, she listened to him, always giving him her full attention. Although he knew she was suspicious, she had not driven him for information, and he appreciated that. She was patient and honest and truly cared about what it was he had to say. She didn’t pressure him into anything and she didn’t talk to him with the idea that she would be given financial compensation. She laughed at his jokes, even when they weren’t entirely funny. She showed sympathy when he told her something sad and cheerfulness when he told her something happy. Maybe most importantly of all, she knew him for who he was and not for his title.

And that was why he was in love with her.

He didn’t want to admit it at first, hated to admit he had let himself get into a defenseless position where anything and everything about her mattered. But he did, and that was not going to change anytime soon.

“I must say, Savannah, I am impressed. I cannot believe that all this time, I thought I was being selfish and unreasonable by not wanting what my parents do. I think you are right in your assumption. I am afraid, on some level, of letting them down. Yet I am also afraid of letting down those who depend on my parents.” He smiled at the hand that was still soothing his own and took it. “It is all so overwhelming.”

Savannah returned his smile when he brought his eyes back up to hers. “I know what you mean.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she watched his smile fade, ever so slowly, and his eyes lock severely onto her. Her skin matched the heat of the fire when he brushed his hand over her cheek.

She barely heard the soft crackle of the fire or the rhythmic trickle of the rain that persisted to fall. The world around her blurred as she followed his eyes while they slipped from hers to her mouth and lingered there for a moment before they returned to her. Her body tingled with anticipation, causing her to be motionless, with only the ability to watch him begin to close the distance between them.

Her breath caught somewhere in the middle of her chest and throat, his lips an inch from her own. Closing her eyes, she could feel his warmth, the surge of desire that was not unlike her own. His scent was distinctly his, a mix of the outdoors, the rain, and a kind of spice she couldn’t place. Every inch of her body wanted so desperately to reach out, to touch him and to kiss him.

The only problem was, there was something that radiated off her that was more than desire or heat. It was fear.

“I-I better go to bed,” she whispered as she shied her face away from his. Hearing her words, he gradually withdrew himself from her. Without even looking at him, she stood up, cantered for her bedroom, and closed the door.

What was she doing? She could not possibly kiss him. It was not right. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t.

Although this is what she had grown to want, it frightened her now. There were so many things that could go wrong if she kissed him, none of which she could think of at the moment. She was still half stunned that she had let him get that close. Besides, he wasn’t even real! Was he?

There were so many reasons for her to back away from this. She didn’t live here; she was not from this dimension—she didn’t even know if this dimension really existed! For all she knew, she had fallen asleep at her aunt and uncle’s house and this was all a part of one very vivid dream. Not to mention that he still hadn’t been completely honest with her, although it seemed she was getting closer and closer every day to his hidden core.

All these negative thoughts that swam in her head were quickly followed by many more positive ones. For one thing, she always knew when he was close by. She could feel him even when she could not see him. For another, he made her comfortable and made her want to make something more of herself. She knew she could let out her emotions in front of him and not be afraid that he would think poorly of her. He made her heart pound a mile a minute and her smile come more easily than it usually did.

What is happening to me? she wondered, as her first tears hit the pillow she immediately buried her face into. Is this just all part of the story, or is it real?

This morning she would have to face the music and talk to him. That is, if he wanted to talk to her at all. But something told her that he would.

Setting the brush down, she took one last look at the result in the mirror. Frowning, the question of whether the real her was in or out of it came back into her mind. Only this time, her thoughts were not complimenting the skill of the craftsmanship.

An image of herself and Marie at the Schwartz’s house popped into her head. It was the day she found out her mother was dying. Looking back, she remembered her realistic and almost cynical attitude toward life that clouded all her thoughts of happiness.

The second image that came was overpowering with the creative and child-like enthusiasm she used to have when she would spend time with her father. They spent hours in the park and playroom, making up games, pretending, laughing, and having a good time. What happened to that girl? Which one was now the real her?

The one that played with Barbies and begged for her parents to read her stories of princes chasing dragons to rescue a princess was smiling in the mirror. She was the one content with surviving in this magic realm and even enjoying herself during the process. But the one that pouted her way through her later childhood stood outside the mirror. She wore a pale, unemotional face with a depressing sulk.

Savannah turned away with a scowl.

***

Christian had woken himself up when the sun rose, already knowing that the sleeping-in routine he’d started the past few days wasn’t working. Besides, old habits die-hard, and waking up with the dawn had become a habit after years of brutal practice.

Throwing on the clothes he was appreciative that Bertha had washed and folded for him, he creaked his bedroom door open and popped his head out into the hall to make sure he was alone. The solitude of the early morning was one redeeming quality his habit did have, and he planned on using it wisely, for the second time during this journey, to think about last night.