IT WAS A little strange. Alice wasn't very sure why but the smell of pancakes and syrup in the morning didn't make her mouth water. Rather, it was her eyes that reacted immediately to the delicious aroma. Teardrops started to trickle from her cheeks but she couldn't find the strength to raise her arms. They stayed on her skin, cold droplets of liquid that stained a clear path down the apples of her cheeks before dripping off the sides of her face.
"Miles!" Alice thought she could hear Charlie's excited voice. The mattress shifted slightly under her, a weight lifting from it. "Miles, I think Alice is waking up! Where's Brother?"
The more Charlie's voice got clearer, the more faded the scent became. Eventually, Alice could no longer detect any lingering sugary fragrances in the air. Her eyelids twitched, tightly clamped shut together after she had spent so long in slumber. With one last attempt, she pried them open, blinking slowly to adjust to the light that filtered into the room.
She recognized her surroundings as the room the Ragans had offered her. A grand, stately bedroom that she had opened her eyes to the first day she arrived in Gladiolum. However, the reason why she came over to such a grand country and got to know the Ragans in the first place was starting to get a little blurry. She remembered rescuing Charlie from a bunch of thugs, the appearance of Miles, and also a sprawling field.
'Oh, right,' she thought. She wasn't a citizen of this world. Her home was on a different plane of reality. How had that important bit of information slipped her mind?
A short distance away, Charlie and Miles stood, guarding her bed.
Miles, as usual, had his look of pure utter indifference. His mismatched eyes were focused on Charlie as the younger boy spoke, carefully watching the latter's every movement. Under the sunlight, his hair glowed amber, like a crystalline gem fragment carefully placed under the viewing light at a grand museum. Each curl displayed both highlights and shadows. Truthfully, everyone Alice had ever seen in Gladiolum was a work of art. This world seemed to be populated by beautiful people.
Charlie, on the other hand, wasn't as quiet and stone-faced as his guard. He had scuttled back to her side after realizing that Alice was awake, placing one knee on the bed so he could get closer. All of a sudden, whatever bashfulness and shyness he had ever displayed in front of her were stripped away. He wasn't doing anything morally sinful or wrong, just awfully affectionate compared to what Alice was used to seeing him do.
"How are you feeling?" Charlie asked.
His face was, however, so close to Alice's that it made her own flush with surprise. Her throat became drier than before, words failing her as she looked over at Miles for a split second before back at Charlie again.
"Young Master, please allow Miss Clemente some space," Miles advised, speaking what he read in Alice's expression.
"Oh." Hearing those words, Charlie backed off. He stood dutifully at her bedside, waiting for her reply.
"A drink?" Miles asked, holding up a glass of water.
Alice took it gratefully from his hands, sipping at it slowly so that the liquid could fully wet her throat. Once she was content, she sighed a little, smiling.
"Thank you, Miles," she said, "And to answer your question, Charlie, I am okay. I think. What happened?"
All of a sudden, the mood in the air turned heavy. Even the joy and laughter that could always be found on Charlie's face was diminished, turning into a blank slate of ash. The two grimaced, sighing with a shake of their heads as they recalled the incident that sent the palace into an uproar the last couple of hours.
"You were on your way back to the Ragan's Estate from the royal palace, journeying with His Highness Prince Hartley when your carriage met with an accident," Miles supplied, speaking up first.
"They say it was a sabotage," Charlie added. "But there isn't any conclusive evidence, as of now, as to who might be the perpetrator behind the accident. All Brother said was that Prince Spade found the both of you at the bottom of the cliff, edging the forest. The wheels of the carriage were cut."
"And the carriage driver?"
"Dead," answered Miles. His expression hinted nothing about his feelings. "He was either killed or had committed suicide before the carriage even gave way. There was a slice on his neck."
"Shit," Alice cursed. At this point, the two men were so used to her colorful expletives that they didn't even blink an eyelid. "How did I even survive? I don't feel…" Pausing, Alice observed herself. She had some bruises and scratches here and there but nothing on the serious end. She could still wiggle her toes and move her leg just fine, albeit a little sore. "I don't feel utterly horrible."
"You will have to thank Prince Hartley when you're in the palace next," Charlie replied. "He used his own body to shield you. In your stead, he suffered grave injuries. Brother says that he isn't even awake yet."
"Oh," Alice murmured.
All at once, she felt her skin wash cold, her blood turned icy. A royal had actually used his own flesh and blood to protect hers. To think, he was so high and mighty when they first met too. If Hartley recovers, when Hartley recovers, Alice will have to thank him properly.
"He did it willingly, Alice." Seeing how quiet she had gone, Miles spoke up. "You don't have to worry. The royal palace will not take any action against you. If anything, they would be too busy trying to catch the saboteur."
"How… How long was I unconscious for?" At this point, Alice dreaded asking more questions. She wasn't sure if she had the strength to find out these answers.
"Just for the night. Your injuries aren't too serious and you should be able to recover quickly. However, until you fully recover, you should continue resting. It is dangerous for you to go out alone as well so one of us will be with you at all times," Miles responded.
"Have some food, Alice," Charlie offered. He clapped once and at his command, a trolley was wheeled in. Immediately, Alice could smell the savory scent of chicken soup waft into the room. "You must be hungry."
Greedily, Alice nodded. She waited for the maid to pass her the bowl of piping hot soup, only to be surprised when it was handed over to Charlie instead. The teenager held the hot bowl, holding out spoonfuls of the soup for her. After he scooped a portion, he would gently blow on the surface to cool the liquid before holding it out towards her. This, again, made Alice's eyes widen in shock.
'When did Charlie become so bold?' Alice thought to herself.
"Careful, it's still a little hot," he said with a smile.
Even though she had a face full of questions, Alice managed to suppress everything. She leaned forward, sipping the soup from the spoon. The warm liquid ran down her throat, its delightful essence filling every vessel in her body. Just one mouthful and she already felt rejuvenated. The aroma of the vegetables in the broth, paired with the succulent chicken, created a delicious and hearty meal.
"It's delicious," Alice commented. Then, a different dish came to mind. She had smelled something sweet before she woke up, not something savory. "By any chance, did any of you eat pancakes or syrup just now?"
Both men looked at each other in confusion. Their eyebrows were scrunched, cluelessness decorating their features. That was a clear enough answer but Alice still patiently waited for their reply. Of course, the response she was given was well-expected.
"No," Miles said. "No one cooked or baked any desserts in the last twenty-four hours, even."
"Of course, if you're craving it, we can get the chef to whip up something," Charlie offered immediately once Miles was done.
Her lips parting, Alice stared at the creases on her blanket thoughtfully. Things were a little strange. It seemed like every time she was unconscious, she would see bits and fragments of a life outside her current one. Were they memories she had before she arrived at Gladiolum?
The smell seemed so surreal too. If Alice had kept her eyes closed, she would've thought that the dish was already presented before her. Yet, it seemed like it was just a part of her imagination. It was getting harder to draw the line between dreams and reality.
Nevertheless, Alice banished the thought. It would still be wiser to live in the present than ponder endlessly on the past that was said and done, or the future that was yet to be written.