Child of a King

Chapter thirty-seven - In my fortress

Estella's pov:

"Ellie".

The voice in the distance slowly dragged me away from my slumber, a soft hand gently shaking my shoulder. Grimacing, I buried my face in the pillow. It was way too early.

"Ellie", the person chuckled, shaking me again. "Wake up".

Huffing in protest, I unglued my heavy eyelids from each other, blinking multiple times as the light in the room stung.

"Sleepyhead". Frowning, I moved my tired gaze from the pillow to the person who sat on the edge of the bed.

"Josiah?" I mumbled, my voice groggy from sleep. Using a fist to rub my eyes, I gazed at him again. "Is something wrong?" Surely something must be wrong, otherwise he wouldn't have woken me up.

Glancing to the side, I saw dad wasn't lying beside me anymore, his side of the bed cold and empty. Noticing how high the sun stood in the horizon, I figured it must be way past morning.

"Nothing's wrong". With a careful and gentle hand, he swiped strays of my hair out of my face as I sat up. Tracing his fingertip from my hair to my face, I watched as he caressed the skin right underneath my eyes. "Except that I owe you an apology".

"An apology?" I echoed, resting my back against the headboard. "What for?"

"It's not always easy for me to go to sleep. Last night was impossible". Looking down with guilt plastered on his face, his fingers fumbled with the duvet that was spread across me. "I heard you from the top of the stairs".

Memories of last night escapades rushed through my mind, the nightmare being the most prominent one. The images of the horrible dream were engraved on the inside of my eyes, ever so real as it could be. Only, it wasn't real. Thank goodness. It didn't change the fact that I needed my sister to come home now. After our last visit in the juvenile center, I was sure that she wasn't doing well, and I feared the longer she stayed there the worse she would get.

"I'm really sorry that I told you about my dad. I never meant to frighten you". His words made me lift my gaze, his golden green irises meeting mine.

"You don't have to apologize. I'm sure you hadn't thought that it would scare me". Resting my hand on top of his, I smiled when he turned his own around, intertwining our fingers together. "I'm also sure that you must be more scared than me".

"Why so?" He asked, holding my gaze hostage as I watched his tall barricades crumble down, brick by brick, vulnerability taking its place.

"Besides the stuff about your dad you also told me a lot of other things and it made me wonder...", I paused, fearing I might make him dislike me again if I continued.

"Yes?" He pushed, the soft stroking of his thumb on my hand urging me on.

"A lot of bad things have happened in my life but there has always been someone to comfort me and make it better. I can't help but think that no one comforts you. I mean it doesn't sound like your parents would do that for you". I sat up straighter, clutching his hand tighter in mine. "You said you're always angry but aren't you scared as well?"

My heart galloped in my chest as I watched in anticipation as Josiah swallowed deeply, his eyes glazing over with tears.

"All the time", he quietly whispered, his voice strained. "If I'm not angry, I'm scared and vice versa". Shaking his head slightly he gave me a weary smile. "It's actually one of the reasons why I was such an asshole when I came here".

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"Well", he dwelled, glancing bashfully at the duvet. "Before we got here, I feared what kind of people you were. Then I met you and you weren't too bad but". He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly. "Then I got jealous when I saw how tight knitted your family were and was envious because I've never had a family like that. That's when the anger spiked up".