The Curse of the Goblin Prince

Chapter Six A Question

 

When dinner had ended, Sir Atlas escorted her back to her room where she impatiently waited for Clover to take her leave. Once Dahlia's nursemaid had finished helping her bathe and change; she settled comfortably into her bed. Clover blew out the candles before she left for the night.

Dahlia lay as still as possible, listening for any sounds of movement outside her door. She stared at the sheer billowy curtains that were draped over her canopy bed. Her mattress and pillows were soft and fluffy. In fact, everything she had here was nicer than her room at home.

She could see the obvious difference between her kingdom and the Lorcan Kingdom. The Azalea kingdom was beautiful but poor. Her father made sure she never lacked for anything and she was very happy, but after coming here, she worried about the state of affairs in her kingdom. She would have to ask her father about it when she returned home.

"Oh no! I forget to write Father!" She quickly got up and ran to her desk. In her haste, she forgot to put her slippers on. The marble floors were cold beneath her feet; so she tucked them under her legs as she sat on the plush cushioned seat of the golden chair that matched her desk. She struck the match and lit the candle that sat on top of her desk. Her heart raced as she thought of all the events that had occurred since her arrival.

She pulled out several sheets of paper and began to write a quick letter about her day, making sure to leave out anything that had to do with Len. Then she signed and sealed it. Dahlia pressed the letter to her heart and closed her eyes. "Please reach Father safely." A hint of sadness in her voice. She breathed a sigh of relief as she placed the letter on top of the desk in the golden tray. The servants would pick it up in the morning. "Alright. Time to go."

She peeked out into the hallway. To her delight, it was empty. Her room was exactly three doors down from Len's. She held her breath as she closed the door and tiptoed down the dimly lit hall towards Len's room. The plush red carpet gave way where she stepped. She lightly tapped on the door. It cracked open and Len pulled her inside.

Once he shut the door and locked it, she exhaled. Then giggled. "Hi."

"Hello. You are pretty late."

"Sorry. It took for-ev-er for Clover to leave. Oh! And the king assigned Sir Atlas as my escort. He wouldn't let me have a moment to myself! And the king is insisting that I take lessons in practically everything! Plus I have to eat every meal with him. It's so weird because it's just the two of us and he is acting like we are family or something. I really don't know what he's thinking." She sighed and sat down on his bed. The blanket was soft as she grabbed it in her fists. "So, what did you do while I was gone?" She leaned back slightly and kicked her legs.

He sat next to her and thought for a moment. "I read a few books and wrote in my journal. Then I played with Trinket."

She abruptly sat up. "Who's Trinket?"

"I guess you could say she's my cat, but she's not friendly and she acts like a gargoyle. She likes to perch on the balcony. I'll show her to you some time."

"Aww. You have a cat?! That is so adorable. I don't have any pets at home."

"I wouldn't exactly call her a pet. She's more like a wild beast! She attacks me when I try to pet her."

She laughed. "I can't wait to meet her!"

Len focused on her face. "What's that?"

She looked confused. "What?"

"There." He pointed to the side of her mouth just below her cheek. "When you laughed."

Her eyes grew wide and she covered the spot on her face that he pointed to. "It's a dimple." She mumbled.

"Why are you covering it? It's cute."

Her pale skin turned bright red as she buried her face in her hands. Her soft red curls tumbled forward, hiding her embarrassment.

"You don't like it?" He lifted her locks and peered down to look at her.

She looked up at him and slowly shook her head. "Even though Everest Sage and I are twins, I'm the only one that has one. He makes fun of me for it. Saying that I have a hole in my face."

He laughed. "Well, tell him that everyone has holes in their faces. If we didn't, how would we eat or breathe?"

She bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile.

"Can I see it one more time? Please?" His brows drew together as he pouted.

She laughed. "How am I supposed to say no when you make a face like that?" She grabbed his cheeks and gently pulled on them.

He swatted her hands away. "Hey." He rubbed the sides of his face. "That hurt!"

She was immediately sorry that she teased him. She was used to playing kind of rough with her brother so she didn't think twice about it before treating Len the same way. "Are you okay?"

He turned away from her and she leaned over to check on him.

Swat! She got hit smack dab in the face with a feather pillow. Her hair frizzled up as it tumbled down in front of her face. The pillow landed on the floor by her bare feet. She was stunned. Mouth agape. He hit her!

He sat still, waiting for her reaction. A playful grin stretched across his face. He watched as a mischievous look took over her.

"Oh, you are going to regret that! I should warn you, I show no mercy in pillow fights!" She reached down and smacked him in the face.

Bright red blood trickled down from his nose. He touched his face, getting blood on his fingertips.

"You're bleeding!" She shrieked. Panic flooded her face as tears welled up in her eyes; threatening to spill over.

"Ha! Looks like I'm no match for you!" He tried to laugh it off but it wasn't working. She looked frightened.

"Hey, I'm okay." He got up and went into the secret room.

She watched as he opened a drawer and pulled out a cotton cloth. He held it to his nose as he put his chin against his chest.

"I'm really sorry, Len. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know." He wiped off the drying blood with the cloth and put it in a basket in the other room then shut the door. "I started it. I didn't realize how much that would hurt. I shouldn't have hit you. That wasn't very gentlemanly of me." He sat back down on the edge of the bed. He watched as she tried to fix her tangled hair. "Do you want help?"

She glanced up at him through the matted mess.

"I have a brush." He pointed to a silver brush on his dresser.

She hadn't noticed it before. It was the only nice thing that he had in his room. Suddenly she felt guilty. What if she was the only person besides the nurses that were allowed to know about him? He must be so lonely. Shut up in this room. Suffering from those horrible treatments. She nodded. "That would be greatly appreciated."

He smiled sweetly. "Okay. Just give me a second." He jumped up and collected the brush. Then sat down behind her. "Tell me if it pulls on your hair." He gathered her locks in his hand and began to gently brush.

"Okay."

As he gingerly brushed her tangled tresses, she mustered up the courage to ask him about his illness. "Have you always been ill?"

He paused at her question. When he continued, he spoke softly. "I got sick three years ago. It has gotten a lot worse lately."

"That's a long time. What are they giving you to help you feel better?"

"Royal Blood Rose Infusions."