Tie It With a Ribbon

“I don’t believe you,” I told him, raising the dagger. “No one is that stupid.”

“I am.”

“Don’t lie to me!” I screamed at him, lunging forward with the dagger.

It lodged itself into the wall beside his throat.

“Do you believe me now?”

He had not moved at all.

I fell to the floor then, crying into my hands. He was so sure of himself, and I wasn’t sure at all!

“I’m so sorry!” I sobbed, my voice muffled by my hands. “I don’t know what… I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay,” he promised, suddenly crouching in front of me, taking my face into his hands. “It’s been a crazy past few days, and I’ve already snapped. Now we’re even.” He smiled, though he was still shaking. “Obviously you weren’t completely lost, or you wouldn’t have missed… But by the gods, am I glad you missed.”

I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, standing up on shaky legs. “If you want this back, I would understand completely…” I pulled the knife from the wall with a small grunt. “It’s obvious that I’m dangerous.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re not. Not to me at least.” He pushed it back to me. “And don’t try to convince me otherwise. Let’s just forget that you went insane for a minute, and we’ll just start looking.”

Perhaps the door truly had been protecting me from insanity.

“I forgot about that… I don’t know that I’m ready to do this.”

“I believe in you, and I’m sure the worst is over.” He kissed me gently, tucking the knife away into its holder. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You are.”

There had been absolutely nothing in Justice’s room, unfortunately, and we had been forced to move onto Clarence’s room. It took me just as long to open that door—if not longer—but fortunately I had been able to keep a level head.

The only thing we had found in there was an old storybook that Justice had always read to him, which I had taken before we moved onto Dominic’s room. His room had been absolutely bare of anything, and it was the same story for Adrianna’s room and finally Terrence’s room.

“I don’t understand!” I shouted in frustration as Zanzibar closed my bedroom door behind us. “Where else could it be?”

Zanzibar looked around my room, but I knew he wouldn’t find anything.

“You’re not going to find anything. I’ve often wondered about who lived here before me, and then I found out it was a recent addition.”

“Alena, I don’t want to upset you, but there is someone else who you have lost.”

I sobbed once, but then I let out a quiet sigh. “I know it’s silly, but I’ve always hated going into my mother’s room ever since Cain—my father,” I corrected, smiling sadly, “died. I always felt so suffocated, because I knew that only days ago he had been in there.”

“It’s not silly, but… It’s something we need to consider. It’s getting a little late, and we can do this tomorrow if you’re not up to it.”

“No, I want to get this over with,” I decided, forcing myself to peer into the hallway. “We need answers.”

“I just hope this isn’t all for nothing. I hate to think that you’ve gone through all of this for no reason.”

“There is a reason: I had to face this sometime…” As we approached the door, something I had said during my insanity hit me. “And I don’t think our children will be freaks.”

He smiled, shaking his head gently. “I know you weren’t—”

“What do you mean ‘children’?”

We whipped around suddenly to see Reginald staring at us. My hand dropped from the doorknob, and I looked to Zanzibar for help.

“Well, if this goes well I was hoping to have more than one. Surely that’s not uncommon around here?”

“Not of the royal family, but that was because we knew most of them would not reach maturity.”

I had to choke on a sob.

“That’s disgusting,” Zanzibar spat, glowering at him. “How dare you even say that to me? What right do you have?”

“It is just advice.”

“I don’t think I need your advice if you’re insisting that my children would simply be decoys to protect one sole survivor!” he snapped, stepping towards Reginald.

I caught his arm. “Please, we have business.”

“You are lucky,” he warned him, pushing open the door.

“Why are you going into Nadia’s room?”

“We need to find something” was all he said before pushing me inside, slamming and locking the door behind him.

I sat on my parent’s old bed, looking around the empty room. It was funny that only days ago my mother had spent most of her days on the couch in the corner, and only years ago my father had stayed there beside her, obediently awaiting her to voice her desires.

As I visited memory lane, Zanzibar pretty much tore up the room trying to find something, anything. He searched the closet and the wardrobe and under the bed. He ended his search by digging through the couch, throwing the cushions aimlessly across the room.

I jumped to my feet, protesting at the thought of my mother screaming in horror at the sight, but then he turned to look at me. There was a small book in his hands.

“What is that?” I asked, rushing to his side.

“Can you read the cover for me?” he asked, putting it in my hands and waiting anxiously.

I scanned over the cover, and my hand flew to my mouth.

“It’s my great, great aunt’s diary…”

“Read a page, any page. Please tell me there’s a mention of a Leonian.” He paused, his face growing grim with mock horror. “And please tell me he’s not a relative of mine.”

I smiled, biting my lip as I flipped through.

“There! She mentions a Leonian man right here! ...And his last name is nowhere close to yours.”