Smoke and Mirrors : Royal Angels I

Netflix and alien fruit

~Victoria~

"You're not ugly. For a human."

I could tell from his voice that it had taken Marcus a lot of effort to admit it.

"And you're not nice." I replied, kicking up my feet. "For an angel."

The butler was my baby sitter for the afternoon. Biscuit had locked me up in an ancient room on the third floor. It had an ornate bed probably older than my grandmother, a creaky desk and a closet.

You'd think rich people could afford to lock a girl up with some Netflix. Nope.

My first instinct was to break open the windows, then pick the lock, then flat out attack the walls.

No give. Alcatraz should probably take notes.

About an hour later, Marcus came inside with a tray of weird looking violet fruit.

He didn't try to explain and I didn't give a fück about the botany. He just watched me eat my alien fruit like a gorilla.

I had to imagine I looked very attractive.

"Biscuit is feeding me fruit." I said. "He must really want to torture me."

Marcus rolled his eyes.

"If by torture, you mean feed you something healthy, then certainly."

"Is it just me or are you always this
fun?" Now that my stomach wasn't growling, I pulled open the drawers on the desk. Nothing.

"I merely state facts. That's all." Marcus sighed. "You aren't going to find a gun in there."

"A girl can hope." I said, heading to the closet. I tossed out the neatly folded clothes, one by one.

"A girl can also shut up and sit down." The butler said, trying to catch the shirts I threw.

"Marcus, Marcus." I tsked. "Haven't we established that isn't going to happen by now?"

After some digging, I found loose change and an old photo. I realized that it must have been taken in this very room. Two small boys and a little girl were smiling at me. All three of them had midnight black hair and blue eyes.

It took me a moment to tell the boys apart.

I looked at Marcus. He was staring out the window in annoyance, and he hadn't noticed me finding the photo.

I folded it and silently tucked it in my shoe.

"So." I said, trying to make conversation. "What makes Biscuit think I won't hit you on the head and hold you hostage?"

Marcus looked at me like it was the dumbest idea he'd heard.

"Because as much as he wants you to believe that it's for your protection," He stated, with an air of superiority. "That phoenix will toast you if you do."

I eyed the red bird nipping on fruit, fondly cooing at Marcus. When she noticed me watching her, she picked up her piece and flew into the closet for privacy.