"It's time for your bath, sir," Charles, my assistant, said with his usual calm demeanor.
"Alright," I replied, already feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me.
"Would you prefer to go over your schedule for tomorrow now, or should we wait until dinner?" Charles ventured a careful question, as though he already knew what my answer would be.
I sighed, "May as well get it over with now." Delaying it wouldn't make it any easier.
"Sure, sir. Tomorrow is Tuesday and you have to stop by the orphanage in the morning," Charles began, "Then comes the invite from Mr. Frederick for you to attend the royal party. You can let me know if you'd like to cancel that. And after the party, well…" He hesitated.
Despite the fact that I already anticipated where this was going, "Continue, Charles," I prompted, even though I could tell what was coming next.
"Sir William would like you to dine with the....family." He ended with that and I heard him speak so carefully, as if he knew just how much even the word -family- made me cringe. "That is all for tomorrow, sir."
"Family?" I muttered harshly through gritted teeth, the word leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
"Sorry, sir?" Charles asked, his confusion evident.
"Nothing. You can leave now, Charles. Thanks," I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut to prevent the frustration from bursting through.
"It's my duty, sir. I'll leave then," Charles replied before closing the door quietly.
Family? Which family was he even referring to? The so-called family who—No, why am I even thinking about this?—and where did this come from? Stop, Ren. Just enjoy the bath. Well darn it, I can't even do that anymore. I need to clear my head.
I need to go to my space.
It was the only bastion of tranquility that I knew how to find amidst this labyrinth hell-house. It was my safe house, where I could breathe without the chains wrapped too tight around me in order to expectations that came with being Ren Ezekiel, the prince of Whistlewood-Kingdom-of-the-Damned… but just a mere, ungrateful son in the eyes of those who dwelled in Willow Winds Mansion.
As I approached my secret spot, something caught my eye—a figure standing where no one should be. What the—don't curse, Ren.
A girl was standing there who looked just as out of place as me. How did she know about this place?
"You—" I started to speak, but she vanished before anything else emerged from my muzzle. Just like that. Once she was there, the next moment- vanished. This time though, it wasn't all in my imagination. The same shock I felt was also visible in her eyes. She was real. She had to be.
But what was she doing here? Had she been one of those who were trying to kill me? I tried to forget about her face but her expression — hold up. Shit, I am only wearing pants!
She must have thought I was some kind of maniac. But why would she? I am a prince for heaven's sake. How dare she—no, this is ridiculous. I came here for peace, and instead, I'm losing my mind.
I shook my head, pushing the thoughts down. I should just sleep. Yeah, sleep. That's what I need. Just sleep, Ren. The next day it will be clearer.
———————————————————
I'd gone back to my secret base more times than I could count, expecting—no, hoping—to see her again. Each time I stood in my secret space, I found myself scanning the empty space, waiting for that strange girl with those wide, bewildered eyes to reappear. Yet as always, it took only one step and the mad wind danced around me laughing. Perhaps I had dreamt her up in the haze of my drain-clogged brain, some ghost that skulked at me to join all those others trapped here somewhere amid the thousand and one demands on them.
But —
When I was resting in the sanctuary and tried to grab a second or so of slack, there was a change in the air. A presence emerged that did not belong. Instinct flared. I turned, but it was already too late. The assassins were already there, creeping out of the darkness like ghosts in an old story. My hand went to my side, but I was disarmed and unprotected.
"Shit," I grumbled to myself, moving away from where I was until I felt some of that cold metal railing press into me.
"Oh for god's sake, what is this place? Why am I–" Anguish and helplessness compounding themselves into one thought, confusion of the things around me –that twisted and shifted like scenes from some long nightmare you could never wake up from.
Their faces are invisible. No sound, just the faintest of chitter from metal. They drew weapons and I noted glinting steel in their hands. There was no escape. Caught like a bird or a rabbit, instead of a man, no matter who caught it.
This was like being trapped in the middle of some crazy movie. But it was no dream up on the screen, this was my life on the line. And just when I thought all was lost—
I turned to come face to face with her.
Before I even had time to understand what was happening, she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward her, a frantic desperation was clearly evident in her grip. She was trying to get me to safety. It's as though she really gives a damn. But this girl-- she was worse than anything else I'd ever come across.
"Leave me!" I snapped, jerking my hand back. I knew she was just one of them. "You're with them. Aren't you trying to kill me?"
"What? I don't even know you!" she protested, confusion welling up in her eyes
But I wasn't buying it. My mind raced, paranoia chewed at my thoughts. Was this some twisted kind of game? I had to get away, to find out who she really was. Except that, before I had time to move, her hand was on my mouth, silencing the words that were on the tip of my tongue. Her other hand clutched the necklace as if it were some kind of talisman, her eyes begging me to be silent.
I struggled against her, my mind in a complicated tangle of doubt and disbelief. Why was she doing these things? What did she hope to gain from them? Even so, she did not loosen her grip, and I could see the determination in her eyes—she wasn't going to let me blow our cover. . It was necessary to stop me, and before I knew it, she made a desperate move.
Then, without warning, her hand flew up and slapped me hard across the face. The sharp sting jolted me out of my thoughts, every bit of confusion and panic amplifying in that instant. I stood there frozen, my body stiffened, trying to process what had just happened. It was like a switch had been flipped—one second I was on the edge, ready to fight or flee, and the next, everything stopped. The sound of my pursuers faded into the distance behind us, leaving us in an absolute silence so oppressive it almost made us suffocate.
She stepped back, her eyes wide, as if she couldn't believe what she had just done and I was left standing there, my breathing ragged and uneven. For a very long time we simply gazed at one another; as it came for both of us to grips with what had just occurred, sooner or later the less understandable, confused, panicked, and the sheer insanity of the situation—it all hung in the air between us, heavy and undeniable.
The girl in front of me— responsible for my profound feelings of fear—this unknown girl, clearly silencing this anxiety with a simple gesture, met my gaze with an intensity that made one physically uncomfortable.
"What the hell was that for?" I finally managed to ask, my voice rough from the chaos of emotions.
She looked just as bewildered as I felt. "I… I don't know," she stammered. "I panicked, okay? I didn't know what else to do!"
"Well, mission accomplished," I muttered, rubbing my stinging cheek. "I'm definitely wide awake now."
"Listen—" she began, but I quickly cut her off.
"Not here," I said, glancing around nervously. "I am feeling rather unsafe now that I am out in the open. I need Charles… Crap, where am I actually? This is not my secret space."
"Maybe you can stay at my house for now until you sort out your issues," she offered. "If you want, you are free to make a call there using my phone to whoever you feel is necessary."
I paused wondering what kind of plan she had for me as I looked at her suspiciously. "What phone and why should I trust you?" I blurted out and the hesitation was clear in the question I had just thrown at her.
The sound of her sigh broke the silence, she could feel me hesitating. "Well, firstly, allow me to explain this: perhaps this position is rather unusual and you don't know me. But right now, we're both in a tight spot. To be honest, if I wished to kill you, I would have done so by now."
I considered her words, especially the fact that it was an emergency situation which to some extent compelled me to agree with her. "Sure, sure. I'll go with you. But if you're up to something, and I don't know about it, I'll get to the bottom of it. "
"Alright fair enough," was the response from her after a nod. "Let's get out of here before things get worse."
We walked along, and as I did so, I couldn't help but wonder: what is next? Here I was, a prince out of place, and here I was being directed into the unknown by a woman I had never met before.
Opening the door, which was made of weathered, cheap oak, I couldn't help wondering, "I wish Charles were here; he would soon have this sorted."
Entering the room, I saw before me an explosion of chaos. How did this family ever manage to live in such a mess? On the table, dresses vied for the space with rubbish, so that it looked— more like a garbage dump than furniture, and clothing had taken over the sofa and—
Empty takeout boxes scattered around like they were trying to start a collection. I gingerly stepped over a stack of mismatched shoes, wondering if I should just turn around and leave. "So, this is your everyday style?" I attempted to break the silence.
She looked at me with wide-open eyes. "Ha ha, very funny. I'm just trying to stay alive in this unforgiving world. Give me a break, will you?" As she picked up the dresses from the sofa in an attempt to tidy them, she found them useless and dropped them back into their respective positions. "Just carry on... if you can find any place to sit."
I managed to pick my way to a relatively empty corner, avoiding hidden obstacles. "Thank you, I'll try not to get lost in the mess," I said— with difficulty stifling a laugh.
Despite the chaos, there was a strange sense of comfort in this place. It felt real and lived-in, in marked contrast to the sterile, impersonal rooms of the mansion back in Whistlewood.
She asked while she kept cleaning, "So who were they?
"Someone is out to assassinate me," I muttered, casting a gaze around the untidy room.
"Why on earth would they want to kill you?" she asked, still busy tidying up.
"Because I'm a prince. If they kill me, then they will be in power," I replied as my body sank into the sofa.
"Eh, you're a what?" she shot a pair of raised eyebrows toward me as if I'd just claimed to be from another planet.