Chapter Four

 

 

 

Shane

 

When we return to the palace, Laura immediately heads for her father’s office. She and Eight have both been silent the entire way home, which has more or less been a good thing. I don’t dislike Laura, but I certainly don’t understand her. What could drive someone to desire to murder their own sister is beyond me. Family is more important than anything.

“I just have to tell Dad what happened with Alicia. I’ll hurry,” she says quietly, entering his office and leaving Eight and me to stand in the hallway.

“How’s the shoulder?” I ask, filling the awkward silence. Laura’s brother seems nice enough, but I’m not good at making small talk. I like to figure out what makes people tick. It’s hard to do that when you only scratch the surface of what people are thinking.

“In pain, as usual,” he replies. “I guess I should formally introduce myself. I’m Peter VIII, but most people just call me Eight for short. Sorry I didn’t say anything before we left. I was caught up in all the chaos.”

“Shane,” I say, extending my hand. “And don’t worry about it. I can only imagine how distracted you must have been.”

“Yeah. It’s been rough. One of my sisters nearly gets me killed and the other one’s determined to kill her.”

“I can’t understand why Laura seems so at ease with murdering her,” I wonder aloud.

Laura’s behavior is especially hard to analyze. She is clearly a determined individual, but I don’t understand how something so serious is this simple for her.

“She’s not. Believe me.”

“Has she told you that?”

Eight laughs. “No. She wouldn’t, even if I asked. I just know her. She hasn’t slept for more than four hours at a time since the attack. She spends her days in the training room and her nights sneaking out into the city. What Alicia did to us is killing her. She thinks that the only way to make it stop is to kill her.”

“Interesting,” I mumble to myself, leaning back against the wall. I suppose it makes sense. Laura seems strong, but inside she is breaking. The lack of sleep could certainly explain her less than pleasant temper.

Our conversation about the princess stops just in time. Laura exits her father’s office and steps into the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind her.

“We can go now,” she says. “Eight? Can we stay in your room?”

“Sure,” he says, putting his good arm around Laura’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” she mumbles as she latches onto his black shirt. The two of them walk like that all the way up the stairs and into Eight’s room. I follow behind them, still unsure of how to navigate this maze of a palace. There are countless hallways and corridors, and it’s very easy to get lost in them.

“Laura, you can take the bed,” Eight says as he throws open his bedroom door. He unloads the few weapons that Laura made him bring and places them on the coffee table that sits in front of the television. Laura and I follow suit, filling up the rest of the glass with knives, guns and swords.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine on the couch,” Laura protests, pulling the braid out of her hair.

“Really, take it. I’ve been sleeping on the couch anyway. It helps my shoulder,” Eight says. I can tell he’s lying, but Laura seems too tired to realize it.

“Only if you’re sure,” she says, biting her lip. Every time her brother’s wound is mentioned, guilt washes over her face. I don’t know why she would believe that his injury is her fault, but she seems to.

“Positive,” Eight says. “Actually, I’d even be fine in the recliner. Shane, you want the couch?”

“Nah. The chair’s good,” I say, pulling my black shirt over my head and abandoning it on the floor.

“At least take this.” He tosses me a red blanket.

“Thanks.” I catch the soft square of fabric with ease and wrap it around my shoulders before settling into the recliner that sits at the foot of Eight’s bed.

“Anybody need light?” he asks.

“No,” Laura says, as she climbs into the bed and curls into a ball beneath his red and black comforter.

“I’m good.” I yawn.

Eight flips off the light switch and makes his way to the couch, settling into it quickly. Within minutes, his breathing has slowed to the dull snore of sleep.

Laura, on the other hand, seems unable to rest. This is the discomfort that Eight spoke of earlier. For nearly half an hour, I listen to her toss and turn, crying softly as she moves restlessly atop the bed.

Unable to keep quiet any longer, I decide to check on her. It is my job, after all. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice quivering. In the faint light from the window, I see her wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just can’t sleep.”

“Me either,” I say. Usually, I sleep like a rock in any circumstance, but something about Laura’s tossing and turning has kept me wide awake.

“Do you want to go on a walk outside the palace?” she asks. “It always helps settle me down.”

“Yeah. Sure,” I say. It’s five in the morning at this point, so I’ll probably regret this decision tomorrow. But it’s my job to keep Laura safe, and I have a feeling that she’ll go without me if I turn down her offer.

“Great,” she says, a smile already returning to her voice. “Let me put my shoes on and grab a few knives real fast.”

“Okay,” I say with a yawn, retrieving my shirt from the floor and pulling it back over my head. If only one could sleep and guard at the same time. It would make for an easier life.

“Let’s go out the window,” she says, tiptoeing through Eight’s room and quietly lifting the glass.

“Are you serious?” I ask her, eyes widening. Eight’s room is five stories up, on the top floor of the palace. I don’t know how the hell she expects to get down from way up here through the window, but I’m curious to see her try.

“Yeah. I’m gonna climb down the tree. I’m not supposed to leave the palace anyway. The guards won’t catch us if we climb through the trees,” she says, stepping out onto the window’s ledge. She carefully climbs from the window to one of the tree’s sturdier branches.

“Can I just go out the front door?” I ask, weary of the task before me. I’ve done a lot of things, but I’ve never climbed a tree. And getting down one doesn’t look any easier than going up one.

“Are you afraid?” she asks, mocking me with a smirk. Luckily, taunting doesn’t faze me.

“Well, a little,” I answer honestly. She tilts her head at me, eyebrows furrowing at my admission.

“Why would you tell me that?” she asks.

“Because it’s true,” I reply with a shrug.

“But it makes you look weak.”

“I don’t care. I’d rather admit I’m weak than fall to my death because I don’t know how to climb a tree,” I say.

Laura and her family are strange. Eight seems to be the only one that allows his emotions to show. Peter, Laura and even Alicia pretend that they don’t have any.

“You’ve never climbed a tree before?” she asks, sitting down on the branch.

“No. I haven’t.”

“What kind of childhood did you have?” she asks, golden eyes widening in horror.

“A safe one,” I retort, though the statement is far from true.

As a child, I was too busy being dragged from rebel base to rebel base to have enough time to learn to climb a tree. There weren’t generally any other children for me to play with either. Maybe one here or there for a few days, but it was rare. The rebellion isn’t a place for families.

She smiles. “Well, you’re going to learn tonight.”

“That’s okay. I’ll pass.”

“No, you have to, especially if you’re going to be guarding me. Trees are my main method of transportation.”

“I feel like that’s highly inconvenient. It’d be much easier to walk,” I say. I don’t think I’m going to get out of this, but I might as well try.

“It’s easier to avoid getting caught this way,” she says, standing back up on the branch. She extends her hand to me. “Come on. I won’t let you fall.”

“You’re a very troublesome person,” I sigh, reaching for her hand.

She places my palm against the tree’s trunk and holds it there. Both of my feet are on the window’s ledge. This does not feel safe. I am going to die. It’s not going to be because my rebel identity was revealed. It’s going to be from falling out of a damn tree.

“I get that a lot. Now, I’m going to move so that you have more room. Watch where my feet are now, and when I move, climb to that exact spot. You won’t fall. I promise.”

“You can’t make promises like that,” I say, watching her climb to a nearby branch with ease.

Taking a deep breath, I follow her instructions and climb from the window to the branch, placing my feet exactly where hers stood only moments ago. My other hand quickly finds the tree trunk, and I inch toward it slowly, wrapping both of my arms around it once I am within reach.

“I can do whatever I want. I’m the princess,” she says with a smirk. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“It was exhilarating. I think we should just go back inside, get some rest,” I say, holding tightly onto the tree. She laughs, and the sound is comforting.

“We’ve got to teach you how to climb a tree. It’s an important skill. And once we reach the bottom, we’ll climb back up,” she announces.

“I guess I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“No.”

“All right then. Let’s get this over with,” I say, sighing.

It takes an hour to make my way down the tree and back up it, Laura giggling at my incompetence with every step. By the time we climb back through the window, the sun is rising in the east. The pinks and blues of dawn surround us as we sit on the ledge, tired from our adventure.

“How does it feel to know that you have now completed a feat that most children above the age of seven accomplish on a daily basis?” she says with a laugh.

“I’m too tired to have an opinion,” I reply, yawning and leaning my head against the wall.

“Get some rest then,” she says, nodding toward the recliner. She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I climb back into Eight’s room, quietly making my way to the chair so that I don’t disturb him.

“Are you gonna go to sleep too?” I ask.

“Probably not,” she says, still watching the sunrise. I climb in the chair and pull the red blanket over my shoulders. I couldn’t convince the princess to rest, but at least it seems that she has found a little peace.