by Ivy Ruthven
We combined two tables to fit all twelve of our company. I sat wedged between Stacie and Ryan. On one hand, she couldn’t stop chattering into my ear while on the other, Ryan brooded silently.
When our pizzas arrived, I jumped in with the rest of the team to take a slice. It was quite hot, so I blew on it, trying to cool it faster.
Stacie jumped beside me and moaned. She’d taken a big bite and was now fanning her mouth. “Hot! Hot!”
I was mid-way to finishing my second slice when Jenny spoke up. “We should take a team photo! Ryan, please?” she said, pushing her phone into his room.
He huffed like she’d just asked him to bake a pizza from scratch and stood up. Peter sidled up to me and grabbed me around the shoulder. “Say Pizza!” he jeered while everyone laughed.
When Ryan was done, Peter said, “Take one with me.” He extended his arm out with his phone and clicked a selfie of us.”
“Excuse me,” said Ryan, squeezing himself between me and Peter.
“Hey, Olivia. Why can’t I tag you on Bookface? Aren’t you on it?”
My smile vanished. “No. Sorry, I am not on social media.”
“Unbelievable!” snapped Jenny. “It’s like you’re living under a rock or something! Now we can’t tag you in any of the pictures or team updates. You’re getting a profile today! Tonight!”
“Err…”
Jenny got up from her end of the table and leaned beside Ryan. “One selfie with me,” she said, before he had the time to move away or object. While she clicked away on her phone, a frown appeared on her face.
“You’re not on Bookface either?” she asked.
Ryan shrugged.
“Wow…” She went back to her seat.
“Time for us to go,” said Ryan aloud. He pulled me up to my feet while I was still chewing. “Come on.”
Swallowing quickly, I waved at everyone and said a hasty goodbye. Ryan dragged me through the crowd until we reached outside the gates.
The air felt especially cold after the warm insides of the restaurant. “What’s the sudden hurry?” I asked, buttoning my coat.
“Hanging out with people always leads to questions I can’t answer. I guess it’s the same with you too.”
“Do you mean the Bookface thing?”
“Yes.”
We walked through the beautifully lit streets until we came upon a bench. Ryan bought two cups of flavored lattes and we sat at the bench, looking at the people passing by. After the excitement of the day, this felt good and relaxing. The pizzeria had been fun but this was peaceful.
“Will you tell me what happened with Hawthorne today?” asked Ryan. “I’m sure he wasn’t there to give you a tour of Knightswood High.”
“No. He sort of saved the day for me…for us. Stephen, one of the St. Paul Academy’s contestants was about to hurt me today.”
“Which one is he again?”
“The dark haired boy who played a cello.”
“Right,” he said, nodding. “Go on.”
I told him about the complete incident. Ryan swore loudly, making a passing group of girls jump and stare at him.
“Someone needs to report that guy. He’s a threat to society!”
“I know but nothing happened. For once, Michael acted responsibly and saved himself and his school a big embarrassment.”
“I still hate him for everything he did to you before.”
“Trust me. I haven’t forgotten.”
He took my coffee cup and set it aside. Then taking both my hands in his, he kissed them. “I can’t believe how close it was. I’d have killed that guy if something happened to you. You that, right?”
“Ryan,” I said, looking into his eyes. “I’m fine. Relax.”
“Tell me.”
“What?”
“Tell me what Hawthorne knows about you. What’s this big secret he’s dug up on you?”
I picked up my coffee cup and sipped the already cooled beverage. It was surprising but I felt no fear about telling him.
“I’m going to need another cup,” I said and began narrating him the events that happened during the start of that year.
He listened. Flashes of surprise went through his face but he didn’t interrupt me. There were times when my throat got caught. He held my hand tightly during those moments, allowing me to swallow my grief and continue my story.
“So, now my family is here…doing our best to start over.” I ended the story and looked at him, trying to see what he thought of it all.
“Hawthorne knows about all this?”
“He knows where I went to school but I doubt he knows the facts about my family’s inner workings. Strathmoore has children from the royal families around the world studying there. If they’re good at one thing, it’s too keep information confidential. I doubt even my friends at the academy know where I am. They probably think me and my brother went to a different, better school.”
“Is that why you stay away from social media?”
“Yes.” A thought occurred to me then. “What about you though? Why aren’t you in it?”
He let out a low sigh and gripped his hair. “It’s a tale similar to yours.”
“Tell me,” I said at once.
“Not today, Olivia. You’re tired from the competition and just cried a bucket. I don’t want you crying anymore tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Ryan.”
“We’re meeting up tomorrow, aren’t we?”
“Yes but let’s do it in the afternoon. I want to sleep until the sun is up.”
He chuckled. “Sure.”
“Be ready by two P.M. I’ll come to your place.”
“Sounds good. And you’ll tell me about yourself?”
“Yes, ma’am. I will.” He drained his cup and stood up. “Come. I’ll drop you home.”
As we walked to the parking lot near the school, I felt like lighter. Somehow talking about what had happened with my family with a friend had taken some of the pain away. A kind of peace settled in my mind as I watched families going about their Christmas shopping.
Chapter 12
Saturday morning started with Sarah putting in two trays of mince pies in the oven. The entire house was filled with the fragrance of cinnamon and rum. With the lighted tree in the living room and carols on the radio, our family was in the mood for Christmas.
“Have you bought all your gifts yet?” asked James, turning to look at me during an ad break on the television.
“Just Bramble’s gift. She’s my Secret Santa.” Then the real reason for him asking dawned on me. “Do you have something special in your mind for your gift?”
He fidgeted with the tie of his robe but nodded. “I need new shoes. The old ones won’t last long. Who knew sports shoes were expensive?”
“Everything seems expensive now.” I did a quick calculation of how much money would be left with me if I spent a few hundred dollars on James’s shoes. I was yet to buy gifts for Sarah and Ryan.
“I’m sorry I wouldn’t be able to get you anything nice this year,” said James, his cheeks reddening. “I’ll try to get a job next year like you. I’ll be older and can actually do something that will earn me money.”
“Don’t worry about it, James. You don’t have to get me anything. Just use the money to get something nice for Mother.”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
Sarah bustled into the room. She was dressed in a woolen green dress that morning and her hair was put up in a high bun.
“Why are you dressed up nice today, Mother?” asked James.
“I am going out for shopping in a few hours with Jonathan. Can you believe it’s almost Christmas?”
“Yeah,” I said. “The days flew by this year. I’ll be going out in the afternoon, Mother.”
“Oh? Where?”
“Ryan and I planned to go skiing in Oakwood Park.”
“Take some mince pies for him. You know what? I’ll pack some for you. Just remember to take them with you.”
&n
bsp; “Thanks, Mother. He’ll love them.”
Sarah left us to watch television. James turned to me. “Hope Mother made enough pies for us.”
Shaking my head, I said, “She did. Now stop thinking of food!”
I had a quick lunch and dressed up to go on my first real date with Ryan. I took time to do my makeup and then, curled my long, blond hair into loose waves.
When I was ready, I headed into the kitchen to see what Sarah had packed for Ryan. An old tin of cookies lay on the counter. Opening it, I found it filled with the homemade mince pies. Shouldering my bag, I decided to carry it in my hands.
Hollering at the top of voice, I said goodbye to James. He shouted back an acknowledgment over the sound of the television.
A weak afternoon shone over the snow topped houses as I made my way towards Ryan’s house. Snow men with twigs sticking out of them stood at some of the gates. A smile blossomed on my face. Christmas made this time of the year beautiful.
Reaching the big house on Monroe Street, I stepped through the tall black gates and entered the property belonging to the Blackmoores. The lawn was as immaculate as the first day that I’d visited.
I went to the main front doors and pushed the bell. The ring reverberated through the house but no one answered. After waiting for a few more minutes, I rang again. There was no answer.
Ryan’s aunt and uncle often went away during holidays and weekends, leaving him alone in his converted apartment in the barn. Each time I visited him, I’d gone through the house to reach his place. With no way to do that now, I decided to go around the main building towards the backyard.
The path behind the house was well maintained too. So, I had no difficulty making my way through it to reach the barn. However, I stopped after a while. Shouts and voices could be heard from further ahead.
I listened closely. One of the voices was definitely Ryan’s. My heart squeezed at how angry he sounded. A sudden thought of him being in danger came to my mind. I hurried forward.
“You can’t do this to me!” Ryan’s voice became clearer now. “Tell him I’m not going. Can’t he leave me alone? He’s got his family now, hasn’t he? Doesn’t he interfere enough with keeping you here to watch me?”
Muted voices spoke but they were too low for me to hear. I leaned on the door.
“Please, Your Highness. Calm down,” said a voice.
“No,” cried Ryan. “I want you gone from here. Now!”
A hush silence fell.
All of a sudden the door opened inward and I struggled to maintain my balance. Mr. Blackmoore, Ryan’s uncle froze as he came face to face with me. Behind him, stood another man but he was stranger. They were both dressed in crisp black suites.
“What are you doing here?” asked Mr. Blackmoore.
“Who is she?” asked the stranger.
“That’s…err…”
“I’m Olivia Buchannan,” I said, already uncomfortable at being caught red handed eavesdropping on them.
“Who?”
“That’s master’s friend,” said Mr. Blackmoore and then coughed.
“Friend?” said the stranger, giving me a closer look.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude,” I said, shuffling my feet. “I rang the bell but no one answered the door. So, I came around the house to find Ryan.”
The two men turned back to look Ryan. He was still frowning at them with his hands folded across his chest.
“Don’t be rude. Let her inside,” said Ryan in a cold voice.
The men sprang aside at once. I walked in, feeling like I was missing something. Why were these grown men listening to him command them?
“Leave us,” said Ryan.
“But..”
“Now!” growled Ryan. His face was a mask of indifference but firm.
The two men left through the door without another look. I watched them walk into the house up ahead. Turning towards Ryan, I tried to gauge his emotion. An exhausted look had come over him. He took a seat at the couch.
“Are you all right?” I asked, putting the tin of pies on the coffee table.
“How much of our conversation did you hear?”
“Not much. I heard you shouting mostly. I’m sorry. I thought you were in trouble and was listening in to check if you were okay.”
He gestured at the cookie tin. “What’s that?”
“Mother made mince pies. She sent some for you.” I opened the lid and showed him. “Want one?”
“Not now,” he said, leaning into the couch.
I let him collect himself but could not help keeping a check on the questions my mind was throwing at me. Who were these people? Why did they call him ‘master’ and follow his every order? Should it not be the other way around?
“What are you thinking, Olivia?” he asked, looking at me.
“I don’t understand why they never shouted back. And your uncle…he behaves oddly.”
Ryan covered his face with his hands. “He’s not my uncle.”
A minute passed while my mind tried working things out. Nothing. “Who is he then?”
“He is my valet.”
“Your what?”
“My valet.” He took a deep breath and said, “Are you ready to learn my story? You’d have to promise to keep it to yourself. You can’t even tell your mother and her brother. Do you understand?”
I nodded. My heart beat faster as I waited for him to tell me the truth about himself. For a long time I’d wondered about his parents and his family. The time had finally come to know the real him.
“Do you know of Islantia?”
I was confused but nodded. It was a small independent kingdom that lay near the eastern Irish coast.
“Do you know of its King?”
“Err…King Raymond? Not much to be honest.”
“I am his illegitimate son.”
I took a moment to digest this. “Your father is alive?”
He nodded. “Very much.”
“And your mother? Is she the queen?”
He gave a wry smile. “I just told you I am an illegitimate son. My mother was no queen.”
“Where is she now?” I asked.
“She’s been dead over the last four years now. That time you saw me in the cemetery, I was visiting her grave. No one could know of my connection with her. That is why I told you to keep it to yourself and you’ve been remarkable at keeping that secret.”
“I have secrets of my own.”
He nodded. “I knew that from the moment I saw you.”
“Why was your mother hiding here?”
“She was not hiding,” he said in a tight voice. “She was driven out by the woman my father married. While he was on an official tour, the Queen took it upon herself to rid the palace of me and my mother. You see, my father married Valentina Saragov for political advantages. My simpleton mother would cause nothing but problems for him. Saragov threatened to kill both her and me if she did not leave.”
Ryan’s voice disappeared as he looked ahead. His hands were balled in tight fists. Shifting closer to him, I squeezed his arm.
Swallowing deeply, he continued. “My mother came to this town to stay under the radar but my father’s men found her out. My father asked her to go back to Islantia but she refused. She was scared now.”
“She was heartbroken from her separation with him but she refused each time he ordered her to return. Her health deteriorated fast and she died within a year. The Queen didn’t want me to go back to my father. So, I was allowed to remain in Knightswood and Blackmoore was sent here to be my valet. He posed as the uncle of an unfortunate orphan.”
“Wow,” I said softly. The story dazed me. A royal intrigue had been brewing in the small town of Knightswood and no one had noticed a thing. “What were you shouting about? You sounded upset.”
“My father strongly wants me to return now. The Queen has given her assent as well.”
“What?” Dread began filling my heart. “He wants you to leave Knightswood?”
The dismay in my voice must have been quite clear because Ryan pulled me into a hug.
“I’m not leaving. I am never going back to the place that treated my mother like vermin. No way.” He said it with a firm finality.
“Why do they want you back now?”
“Valentina Saragov can’t have children. I am the only living heir to the throne.”
My mouth fell open.
“You’re a prince? A real prince?”
“Not really. My father would have to officially grant me the status of his son…you know…legitimize my claim to the throne.” His tone was full of disgust. “I don’t want any of it. I am happy to be here.” Leaning down, he kissed me on the forehead. “Does any of this change how you feel about me?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “It’s a lot to take in. This was the most unexpected answer. It’s almost surreal. I wouldn’t have believed any of it unless I’d seen those two grown men cower in front of you.”
“Trust me. They were not always that pliant.”
“Did Blackmoore treat you badly?” I asked.
“He and his wife treated me with cold indifference. They knew I’d leave on my own after I turned eighteen. They were just passing the time and fulfilling their roles to look after my needs.”
“I’m sorry, Ryan,” I said. “I can’t imagine the kind of life you’ve had until now.”
“It was really good until my father married. He was good to me and my mother but all that changed after his marriage. He began spending more time in the office and left my mother alone to deal with his new wife and the staff.” He shifted away from me and stared at me. “I’m sorry I forgot. We were supposed to go skiing today.”
“Forget about it,” I said. “Let’s just stay here.” All my good cheer had melted away. Ryan’s eyes were heavy with unshed tears. When he blinked, they streamed down his face. I felt my own heart cracking at the sight.
I moved towards him and hugged him as tightly as I could. It was only then that I understood. We had both been hurt by people we were closest to…our own families. My own mother wasn’t treated too different after my father passed away. The hurt that came with being cut off from your family ran deep. Even when the surface healed, it still throbbed.
