Find Me Alastar(23)

“Hello Emmaline.” She smiles.

I smile with a frown. “It’s Emerson.”

“Oh, that’s right, dear. I’m sorry.”

I smile. She really is a sweet old pawn shark.

“I have your letters.” She bends down and brings out an old, dark wooden box with stampings burned into the sides of it.

My mouth drops open. “Wow. This is so cool.” I unhook the heavy antique bronze latch and open the box. Thick parchment paper letters are lined up like cards. I take the first one and hold it in my hand as my eyes flicker to the old lady, who smiles sweetly.

“I’m so lucky to have come across this ring.” I smile. I really do love it.

Her eyes hold mine. “There is no such thing as luck, my dear.”

I smile as I look at the letter in my hand. This is, without a doubt, the coolest thing I have ever held, and I hold it to my chest.

“Your ring didn’t come to you through luck,” she breathes.

I frown.

“There is no such thing as a coincidence. That ring is meant to be yours.”

What the hell is she talking about? “What do you mean?” I ask.

Her wise eyes hold mine. “‘Trust yourself.”

Huh? Did I miss part of the conversation?

“Trust your instincts.”

I am totally lost. This old woman is senile. What the hell is she talking about?

“I’m sorry.” I frown. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Sometimes it is the sheep in wolves clothing.” Her old eyes hold mine.

Huh?

“Listen to your voice.”

What the actual f*ck is she talking about? I fake a smile and put my letter back in its box. I’m getting out of here. The old bat has gone loopy and is starting to freak me out. I pick up my heavy old box and put it under my arm and smile.

“Until we meet again, my dear, I bid you farewell.”

I frown. When are we ever going to meet again? “Goodbye.” I fake a smile and head out the door.



* * *



“Hello?” I call as I open my front door. I have become quite attached to my new roomies already.

No answer. Oh, that’s right. Everyone is working tonight.

I sigh. I’m not cooking meat and vegetables just for myself. There goes the healthy eating plan. I make myself a cup of tea and a piece of toast before I head into my room, turn the lamp on and lie on top of the bench seat beneath my bay window. I carefully take out the first letter and open the thick, old, folded paper. In the dark room, lit only by my lamp, I begin to read.



* * *



Your Highness, I will do as you ask and come to your chamber tonight at twelve.

Until then…

Your trusted guard.

xx

My imagination runs wild as I envisage the scene set before me.

The large assembly area is filled with commotion. The kingdom’s army has returned from battle, victorious, bloody, and beaten.

The crowds have gathered to celebrate their arrival and the Princess and her father, The King, are perched in their grand seats at the front of a stage. The soldiers march in, led by their leader to the sounds of cheering. Elation fills the township at their victorious and safe return.

The Princess’ heart skips a beat as he comes into view and she stands instinctively. She has worried about the soldiers, but their leader holds a special place in her heart: Alchron the warrior. Towering over the other men, he has a muscular, strong body built for battle, with long, chocolate wavy hair that is tied back. Large brown eyes search for the princess through the crowd. He has been the king’s head guard for five years, and he has watched the king’s daughter, the princess, blossom from a mere teenage girl into a shining, beautiful woman. A warrior by day and a legend by night, his bedroom sports hold as much notoriety as his fighting skills. He can have any woman he wants, but it is the virginal Princess that holds his heart.

He can never have her. She is out of his reach.

That doesn’t stop him from dreaming.

He marches his troops—all in full armor—into the assembly, and they stand to attention in front of their king. The loud sound of their armor comes to a ghostly halt.

The king stands and the soldiers and crowd drop to their knees in respect as silence falls.

“Welcome home,” The King announces.

The crowd all cheer and stand. The soldiers stay kneeled, heads bowed in respect.

“You have saved our kingdom, once again. We live in a safe place because of your sacrifice.” The kings voice echoes across the hushed crowd.

“Thank you!” he calls. The king turns and gestures to the Princess who stands and smiles, forcing the crowd to cheer.

Since her beloved mother was captured along with her guards, and murdered by a kingdom enemy when she was only ten, the kingdom adopted her and adored her. Known far and wide as the people’s Princess, she takes her role seriously. She wears red velvet, a low cut dress with a full skirt. Her waist is always cinched in with a strong corset and her dark hair is in perfect curls on top of her head. Her skin is porcelain and her eyes a fiery green. Her back is ramrod straight from years of impeccable grooming. She walks toward the line up of guards and stops in front of Alchron. His dark, wanting eyes look up at her as he remains on his knees, and she feels her heart flutter in her chest. She has come prepared today. She has a letter held tightly in her hands for him. A letter she wrote over twelve months ago but has never had the courage to give to him. “Stand,” she commands him as the crowd watch on.