The Locket (24 page)

How was he going to face her now? In his past, Christian was not used to being turned down. Of course, he was also not used to a young woman not knowing who he was. After all, who didn’t know the prince of the Kingdom of Reverice?  Anyway, that is not what is important. What is important is that he and Savannah get off on even keel again, especially since they have the rest of their journey to embark on.

Rejection he could handle. Rejection from the woman he loved? That was not so easy.

Shaking his head as he walked over to the dining room table, he let out a quick yawn and stretch, welcoming the coolness of the morning air. No sooner had he sat down before a faint, but undeniable, thud came at the front door. Wondering who could possibly be up this early—in the middle of the Mysterious Forest, no less—he strode over and opened the door. No one was there, which was difficult to imagine, since Bertha’s front yard was long and wide enough to where someone couldn’t have gotten far enough away if he tried to hide.

In the middle of closing the door, something by his feet caught his eye. Glancing down, Christian saw a newspaper, tightly wrapped and neatly placed on the stoop. Feeling only slightly guilty about opening someone else’s mail, he unwrapped the paper and began skimming the pages for any interesting news from his kingdom.

Hmm, Mom and Dad decided to call a town meeting, he thought idly, while making his way back to the dining room table. Town meetings always bored him. Sometimes it seemed that no matter what was suggested, whatever the king said went in the end. Though that was never usually a problem, seeing as how his father always had excellent judgment in various subjects. Enough about that; what other news was the town babbling about these days?

Their Royal Majesties are deeply concerned about the return of their son—particularly during this time of war. He has yet to be discovered, and there are no leads as to if he was kidnapped or possibly murdered. His disappearance is a complete mystery.

Christian groaned. Wonderful, now they have the entire town looking for me. Wishing desperately for a cup of strong coffee to sooth his suddenly dry throat, he was mildly startled to find one in front of him when he moved the paper. Taking a much-needed sip, he turned back to the paper.

Flipping from page to page of the, what Savannah would consider, aged paper, his attention caught when a small slip of paper fell from in between the next pages.

Reward!

For the finding and rescuing of his Royal Highness, the Prince of the Kingdom of Reverice! Whosoever may find His Majesty, dead or alive, should request an audience with the royal family
immediately!

The paper held nothing more on it than the specifics of the reward and how to retrieve it. There were no pictures, not even a description of what he looked like. Then again, everybody already knew what the prince looked like. Everybody except Savannah.

For a moment, Christian sat and simply stared at the paper. Would Savannah suspect anything if she saw this page? Would she make the connection between his appearance in the forest and the prince’s running away?

Of course not, he told himself. Even if she did make a connection, it was easy enough to deny that he was who he was. There was no picture, no proof of identity on the page. It was just a simple reward flyer with the basic information on whom to see, where to go if they found him, that sort of thing. The problem was, he didn’t want to lie to her, and the best way for him to do that and still keep his identity a secret was to avoid this topic altogether.

Well, one cannot be too cautious, he decided. But before he could crumple up the small piece of parchment, a creak in the floorboard indicated that someone was coming. Glimpsing up, he watched as Savannah came into the room. She looked awake enough for such an early hour of the day, though the darkness under her eyes spoke volumes about how she had slept.

“Good morning,” he said when she remained silent with her eyes cast elsewhere. They pinned on him now with a mixture of shock and guilt, and even a tad bit of distress. It pleased him very little to know that she had not slept due to guilt, but it did show that she cared about the situation, and that made him feel a little bit better.

“Good morning,” she answered quietly. He turned around, and as he did, she shook her head, trying to get her head back in the game. So what if last night was awkward? They had to get on with their lives, and if he already had then she should be able to as well. Replacing her bothered expression with a raised eyebrow and twitching her lips from a frown to a leer, she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway. “I thought you liked to sleep in?”

“Oh. Yes, well …”

“What are you reading?” she asked, discovering the paper in his hand.

“Nothing,” he replied, wrinkling up the sheet that indicated the prince’s disappearance and tossing it into the garbage can. Best to avoid the topic altogether, he reminded himself.

She glanced over at the piece of crushed paper that missed the garbage and hit the floor, and then back to Christian. “I guess that there wasn’t anything good in the paper this morning.” He nodded as she took a seat at the table. “That or your least favorite jousting team won.” This time, he gave her a crooked smile. She could tell that he was trying to act happy in front of her, but it was not working. Reminding herself of last night, she thought that he had every right to be upset. “Chris, I—”

“Good morning, you two. Did you sleep well?” Betty came bursting into the room, her smile and attitude just as animated as always. Apparently Savannah and Christian weren’t the only early birds in this house.

It was almost depressing, Bertha considered, how two people could nod their heads so pathetically. She fully knew already what had happened in her living room last night, and she was not about to let that get in the way of anyone’s work ethic, or attitude for that matter. “Brilliant. What would everyone like for breakfast?”

“I’m sure anything would be great, Betty. What do you have?”

“Oh,” the old woman waved a hand. “Anything you feel like. I can make anything that suits your fancy, my ducklings.”

Christian, who had long since stood up when she came into the room, offered her a chair. “We wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble for us. We can just take something with us after we help you and your husband.”

“Nonsense!” she cackled and lifted a hand in decline for the chair. “Breakfast is the most important meal, and it will bring you energy for your day. Besides,” she went on, heading for the kitchen and gesturing for them to follow, “Henry and I never had any children of our own. I never had anyone to spoil or cook for except him.”

Savannah looked at Christian, who gave her nothing more than a shrug and the signal that she should decide. “Okay then, umm … blueberry pancakes?”

Bertha smiled. “Blueberry pancakes it is!” She took a sweep of the room until she found a large wooden bowl. She pointed at it from the top shelf above the stove and bent her finger, telling it to come to her. Next, she motioned for a stirring spoon, a bottle of milk, a couple of eggs, and a few other miscellaneous items.

“Pancakes,” she ordered. Shockingly, the dishes moved on their own, as if they knew what to do. It was insanely mind-boggling, and somehow, Savannah believed it. Strange how, after a while, you get used to things like this.

For once not one notion of doubt entered her mind.

The mix was all made and was about to be placed on a hot surface before Bertha yelled out, “Don’t forget the blueberries!” While their breakfast was cooking, three plates and forks were transported onto the table with three glasses of milk.

Savannah opened her mouth to say something, but Bertha stopped her with a chuckle. “I’m not a stranger to your dimension, my dear. I’ve traveled there before.” Both Savannah and Christian’s eyes widened at the thought, and before they could say anything, Bertha was continuing on. “I know what it is like and how people use things. I even was able to bring back a few souvenirs,” she waved an arm to the stove. “Such as some baking mixes, a stove, a refrigerator; and those are just for the kitchen. Life is so much easier now, although I did not forget the world I was born and raised in. So I merely brought back what I thought would not hurt to have around. That is, as long as I live in an abandoned area where no one from any of the villages will see, otherwise tremendous problems could occur.”

Nodding, Savannah returned to the dining room where Bertha herded them out and sat down. Minutes later, they were being served their breakfast by a bunch of flying plates, while saucers of syrup and butter appear in front of them. Savannah smiled and thanked the plates, a tad embarrassed, but felt better as she saw Christian and Bertha do the same.

After everything was on the table and served, the three of them were able to enjoy their breakfast and, thankfully, Savannah thought, each other’s company without discomfort.

***

“Savannah, Christian … this is my husband, Henry. Henry, these are our two house guests.”

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

“Hello,” he responded, shaking their hands in turn. Mr. Whitmore was a tall, sturdy man. He must have stood over six feet tall, and, although he was not a stocky man, he certainly had more bulk than most. His hair was as white as a sheet of paper, a contrast to his wife’s dark gray curls, and his skin was tanned from working outdoors every day.

Bertha grinned at the immediate fondness the children had for her husband and vise-versa. “Christian, you will be outside with Henry, recovering the plants from the rain, cleaning out the pond, racking up the debris, and chopping some wood for the fire. Whereas, Savannah, you will be inside with me, helping to get dinner started, dust, sweep, and make the beds. Are we clear?”

“Yep.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then, Henry, why don’t you take Chris here and start with the plants.” He nodded, leading his assistant out of the cottage. “Now, Anna dear, I will go get us some old rags, but I need you to go get a bucket and fill it with water.”

“Okay.”

“The buckets are under the kitchen sink,” she said, and headed out of the room.

For the first half of the morning, Mr. Whitmore and Christian cleaned the front yard and spruced up the gardens while Savannah and Bertha dusted the inside. The work was not endless, nor was it quick and easy. It isn’t easy, Savannah discovered, to clean up actual dust bunnies, or to make the pots and pans obey her voice rather than their master’s. She would have gotten dinner started the old fashioned way, but every time she tried to pick them up, they’d wiggle free.

Finally, Savannah was now able to do the next thing on her list … sweeping. Unfortunately, this was and had always been her least favorite chore.

“Why don’t you sit here a minute while I go fetch the broom,” her hostess announced. “The antsy old thing does not like to stay in one place for too long.” Anna shook her head and sat patiently on the window seat in the living room.

Oddly enough, she was enjoying herself. She didn’t think it was entirely possible to admit she was content where she was and doing what she was doing, but the fact was she loved every minute of it. She loved the house, the hosts, the magic appliances … everything.

Everything, she thought again, as she looked out the window to see Christian chopping up wood. He seemed rather good at it too, slicing each piece with a single swing of the ax.

Since last night was no dream, the reality made her stomach turn. If only she had followed her heart instead of her head and kissed him, her conscience would be clear and her gut would not hurt. Still, some sort of intuition told her that it was a better idea not to get involved with someone from this place. In spite of everything, she was in a fairytale world that she was not completely sure truly existed. The idea of having a relationship with a mysterious and incredible guy, though appealing, could not happen.

“All right, I’m back. The little devil was—” Bertha looked over at Savannah. “What are you staring at?”

She stood up quickly. “Nothing. It’s just the sky; it looks so beautiful and so much less intimidating than last night.”

Bertha nodded her head. “Oh, all right then. Well, here is the broom, why don’t you get to it? I just want the bedrooms and the living room done. You might as well start with the bedrooms. They’ll clean faster because there is so much less furniture in there.”

Savannah took the broom and headed for the back of the cottage. Right as she was passing by her patron for the day, she was stopped in her tracks. “And, Anna …”

She turned. “Yes?”

“Do not let the fact that the real world can be a harsh place misguide you into thinking it need be a cynical one. Your world, from the little I have seen, can be a glorious and inspirational place if you let it. I have witnessed people ruin their lives from distrust and try to turn themselves into adults too soon. I don’t want that to happen to you. I have seen the people in your world accomplish wonders that never could be here.”

Savannah said nothing and kept her eyes on Bertha. Tears chocked in her throat that she refused to let fall. She turned to go and got about as far as the first doorway when Bertha called her. “Savannah? This world has wonders too, you know. Perhaps this place is the best medicine for you to see the magic and creativity of the life you could lead if you let it.”

She did not respond, but rather disappeared into the back. When she was out of sight, Bertha crossed the room to check out the window and see what Savannah had been staring so intently at before. Smiling, she began to hum her favorite song and continued working.

***

At last, by mid-afternoon they were finished. The inside of the house was sparkling, and the outside was back to its enchanting condition. As Savannah went into the kitchen to put the bucket away, she spotted the piece of the newsletter that Christian had not wanted her to see that morning.

Setting the bucket on the counter, she slowly bent down to pick it up. She opened it and read the headline:

Reward
!

For the finding and rescuing of his Royal Highness, the Prince of the Kingdom of Reverice

Reading it over again, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine why this was worth hiding. She wasn’t a friend to the prince. In fact, she didn’t even know him, so it wasn’t as if he was protecting her from reading upsetting news. Maybe he was jealous of him? I wonder what he has up his sleeve, she thought suspiciously. Stuffing the paper into her pocket, she returned back into the living room to find Bertha and Henry.