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Authors: Belle Malory

Wanderlove (35 page)

BOOK: Wanderlove
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“He’s a
Royal
,” I emphasized the word.

But the guard didn’t seem to care. He only shrugged. “He’s an
abandoner
. Most would be happy to have him dead.”

“Do you wanna let me go
now
?” Cam grumbled. He’d become stiff after the guard mentioned the word ‘abandoner.’

I groaned miserably and pushed Cam out of the way. I had no choice but to surrender myself.

THIRTY-EIGHT

 

 

“Lola Moori, you are hereby charged with attempting escape and defying Queen Bonjara’s orders against you. How do you plead?”

“Guilty.” I ground this out defiantly. Apparently, the Bonjara Queen had departed two days ago, which left me in the hands of another Gabor. This time, I was dealing with King Victor, who I’d always thought was a fair and just Royal, but I would be damned if I was going to sob for mercy to anyone for trying to leave Redwood Forest. They had to know they were being unreasonable. Any gypsy would agree with me on this point.

Victor motioned his advisor to step aside and he stood before me. Behind me, several guards secured Gabe to the ground. He’d been detained for throwing a punch to Prince Tiberius’s jaw. The prince had purposefully riled him, degrading the Constantin family with seedy insults from the moment he laid eyes on Cam and Gabe. “All hail the return of the mighty
princes
,” Tiberius taunted them. When an awkward silence spread over the room, he continued in his droll tone of voice by adding, “I guess everyone here prefer your retirement to Florida. But honestly, we all believed you’d be more creative.”

Gabe hadn’t put up with this for long before he started swinging. The guards had tackled him to the ground, but not before he’d managed to bloody Tiberius’s upper lip. Several Royals tried to calm the prince while he fumed in the far corner of the hall, his pride more wounded than anything else.

“Relax, Lola. I can see the tension in your shoulders.” I dragged my attention away from the angry prince and turned back towards the residing King.

Victor motioned for me to take a seat on a nearby pillow. His casualty seemed strange, especially considering the amount of people observing us within the confines of the great hall. The room was full of Royals, guards and random spectators. I supposed the king was used to the attention, but it still felt increasingly uncomfortable to me. I hesitantly took a seat in front of the king, hoping this trial would be over soon. Let them throw me back in my jail. I didn’t care at this point; I simply wanted everything to be over.

“I’ve heard the rumors about your mind,” he continued in a soft, relaxing voice. There was something about him that put me at ease, though I wasn’t quite sure what it was. “It seems your memories will unlock the secret hiding place for the crystal primus.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve heard the same rumors.”

“That’s a big burden on your shoulders, Miss Moori. How are you handling it?”

I blinked, surprised by the question. No one had ever asked me that question before. I wasn’t sure how to answer the king.

“I’m…okay. I guess. I try not to delve into my memories very much. No one wants me to.”

The king appeared to be considering what I said. As if it mattered to him. I wondered if it did matter to him.

“At your age, I was trying to figure out who I was as a person. I looked to all my past lives for guidance, wisdom. I desperately needed that knowledge, trying to mold myself into a decent king. I believe the inability to look to one’s past is a tragedy, whether you are Royal or common.”

I shifted on my pillow. Victor was sympathizing with me. The act itself was hard for me to process.

“Anyway,” he continued. “It may be true that you are guilty-- you did attempt escape against Queen Bonjara’s orders.”

Great
, I thought.
There goes my tiny dash of hope.

“Under normal circumstances, these charges would cause for a severe sentencing. However, I am willing to offer you clemency. Lola Moori, you are hereby pardoned of all charges. And since the departure of Queen Bonjara, my first official act of residing King is to relinquish you of her orders. You are free to go.”

My jaw was left hanging open, along with everyone else’s who was present at the end of Victor’s speech. I even heard several gasps resound in sync with one another. Baffled, I wondered for a few seconds whether I just heard the man correctly.

The protests started almost immediately-namely from Tiberius. “You can’t be serious, Uncle!” he declared, wide-eyed with outrage.

Victor didn’t even acknowledge his nephew. Instead, he directed to me, “You may want to leave as soon as possible. I don’t know how long I’ll be in Redwood Forest, and the next Royal may hand out different orders.”

Mindlessly, I stammered, “How d-do I know I won’t be summoned again?”

He merely waved my fears aside. “It’s like a double jeopardy of sorts. You can’t be summoned for the same reason twice. We also like to trust each other’s judgment. Well, most of the time. Bonjara might have a hard time swallowing it, but I think after listening to reason, she’ll come around.”

I nodded. The feeling of giddiness began to set in and everything felt more real to me. This
was
actually happening. I caught Gabe’s expression out of the corner of my eye. He looked just about as dumbfounded as I was, yet relieved, too.

“Just promise me something?” Victor asked me suddenly.

“Anything.”

“Should your memories reoccur, let us know immediately. Let me be the first person you call. Don’t wait for our readers to pick up on your thoughts. Surely, by then it will have been too late.”

“Of course,” I breathed. “I’ll call you first, before anyone. You have my word.”

Victor smiled. “Good,” he said. “But let’s hope that doesn’t ever have to happen. For everyone’s sake.”

THIRTY-NINE

 

 

The quiet hum of the background noise in Henri Coanda Airport was like a balm for my previously chaotic senses. It wasn’t busy today-an added bonus. Very few travelers roamed the otherwise empty hallways. Most people walked with ease, nothing rushing them. I suppose Wednesday afternoons didn’t bring in much traffic.

The weather was also in alignment with the aura of the airport. It was dreary and rainy, almost gloomy-like. But although the dismal scene seemed bleak, there was some nameless energy in Terminal C which enchanted me. I felt excited, giddy. Like the world seemed full of great possibilities once again. Or, I don’t know, maybe my reaction had simply been born from the feeling of going somewhere.

Christo leaned down to kiss the top of my head. The gesture seemed very fatherly. It stuck out to me, but in a nice way. Christo had never been one to be “fatherly.”

“Are you sure this is really what you want?”

“Yes.” I nodded to reaffirm my statement. “It feels right.”

He shook his head for the hundredth time in disbelief. “Clearwater, eh? I figured if you ever did stick around in one place for a while, it would be somewhere exciting. The gulf coast doesn’t even bring in good waves.”

I smiled, amused by his shock over my decision.

“This isn’t about the Constantin, is it?” He nodded his head in Gabe’s direction. I turned to view Gabe a couple of rows away from me. He was leaned back in his chair with his hat pulled down over his eyes, sleeping.

I turned back to my father. “No, it’s not about Gabe,” I answered, sighing. “I wish it could be so simple.”

“Then what is it about?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It just feels right, I guess.”

He shook his head, confused, slightly dismayed, but ultimately accepting it for what it was.

“I’ll never fully understand you, Lo. No matter how long I’ve known you, you always manage to dumbfound me.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Nope. I guess it’s why I love you. I think I’m supposed to learn something from you. Maybe that’s why we’ve been eternally linked.”

I smiled. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, kiddo.”

He hugged me once more and then he left, disappearing down the white-washed hallways. My mood turned a little morose after he walked out of my line of vision. My father was gone for good. I wondered when I would ever see him again.

Gabe, Cam and I proceeded to checkin through security a while later. Soon, we were all on board our plane. Gabe gave me the window seat and Cam took the aisle. I suppose it was good that I was beside Gabe. There were things I needed to say. I only hoped I could figure out a way to verbalize them.

Cam almost immediately fell asleep after takeoff. Gabe mentioned plane rides always knocked him out. It was a perfect opportunity to say the things that needed to be said. But for some reason, we kept dodging the important issues. Instead we only spoke about random topics.

“Where are your parents?”

I think my question surprised Gabe, or maybe caught him off-guard. But he answered me without questioning the source of my curiosity.

“My father died when I was young. I don’t remember much about him. My mother is alive and well. She visits every now and then. Or we’ll sometimes visit her.”

“Where is she?”

“She lives amongst one of the troupes. She won’t give up that life. It’s too hard for her to stay in one place.” Gabe paused because the plane flew through some turbulence.

I looked up to see the fasten seat belt sign had been turned on and I waited for the trembles to come to an end.

I suddenly felt Gabe’s hand grasp mine. I looked down, noticing I’d been clenching the arms of the seat.

“Nervous?” he asked me.

“No,” I promptly replied, but I didn’t pull my hand away from his. The turbulence eventually came to end, thankfully, and I relaxed against my seat.

He seemed amused, for whatever reason, and this annoyed me.

“I know what you’re thinking and I’m not afraid of flying,” I informed him.

“I wasn’t thinking that at all.”

“Well. . .good.”

A few moments passed quietly before either of us said anything again.

“She adored you, you know.”

“Your mother?” I asked.

He nodded. “I’ve known her for several lifetimes. She isn’t always my mother, but she is always closely related somehow. A sister, an aunt. . .she’s always been there. And anyway, the two of you got along famously.”

I smiled now. I had often wondered if things would have been different had my mother lived into an old age, and what it would have been like having her around. I wondered if Christo would have been at all different.

“Is she the same mother whom the Royals murdered?” The question surprised both of us because it was clear I’d remembered that information from another lifetime. Gabe hadn’t mentioned it to me in this one.

“Yes,” he said solemnly. “She died at their hands, which is why she keeps her identity a secret to this day.”

“I vaguely remember you telling me that she was powerful.”

“It’s true. She has a very strong instinct. In fact, I’ve never seen anyone who compares, not even your Aunt Zetta. I think my mother even knew she would be murdered long before the actual crime was committed.”

“Then why didn’t she stop it from happening?”

“I don’t know. She would never tell me and she still doesn’t like to talk about it. But truthfully, I believe it’s because she wanted Baro and me to get out. I think she wants the Royal families separated.”

“That’s really strange,” I noted.

“Yeah. I guess so. I don’t know why she wanted us separated, but knowing my mother, there’s a reason for everything she does.”

For a moment, Gabe seemed far away, lost in thought. I wasn’t sure if I should keep asking him about such a sensitive subject, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable-only pensive. And I was really, really curious.

“She has a theory, you know,” Gabe spoke again a few moments later. He was looking at me now; his dark gray eyes were fixed on mine. “About why gypsies are the way they are. Do you want to hear it?”

“Sure,” I replied.

“Most gypsies think we’re blessed, especially the Royals. But she doesn’t think so. She thinks we’re cursed.”

Intrigued now, I asked, “How so?”

“Think about it. You probably know of wealthy gypsies. But do you know of any that are renowned? Do you know any gypsies who became famous leaders? Presidents? Scientists? Do you know any famous writers, actors, singers?”

I contemplated on it, searching my mind for someone I knew who’d received any of the titles he mentioned.

“My friend Lina is a belly dancer,” I pointed out. “She has over a million hits on YouTube.”

He shook his head. “Bigger than that, Lo. Can you think of a gypsy whose name will be remembered throughout the ages?”

“I guess not,” I said, giving up.

“It’s because we are an apathetic people. We don’t care about life the way normal people do. Normal people strive to solve the next big equation, creating technology or writing the next great novel. But we don’t strive for anything. We all know we’ll just end up dying and the cycle will start all over again. We don’t care about leaving legacies.”

I thought about what he’d said. I guess in a way, he was right.

“Then what are we doing here?” I asked him.

“That’s the big question. And that’s why we’re cursed. We go through life searching for the meaning of it all. We wander aimlessly, headed for the next place or person who might give us some answers. I would say it’s wanderlust that drives us, but I don’t think that’s the right word.” I watched as his eyes grew hazy. “No…I think it’s more of a wander-love. In a way, we understand what’s most important. In a way, normal people don’t see the world as clearly as we do. But then again, they haven’t been as jaded, either.”

I frowned. “That’s kind of sad.”

“It’s our burden to bear,” he told me. “My mother believes there is a reason we carry it. And it’s another reason why I agreed to let you go on with your lives, without remembering who you are. I wanted you to feel the small thrills of life.”

“I think it was there, anyway,” I admitted. “Nothing fazes me. I never wanted to forget anything, especially you.”

BOOK: Wanderlove
4.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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