Spelled

Chapter Seven

Jess's POV:

Out of complete shock, I took the Princess's hand that she offered to me, only to have my mind sent on an emotional roller coaster. A foreign memory popped into my head:

I'm standing with Charlene Turner, an insanely gorgeous cheerleader, who happens to look like a catastrophe.

"Is it really bad?" Charlene asked me, gesturing to her hair in a wide, sweeping, gesture.

"Well.....compared to how you normally look when you cross over....." I stammered, knowing how fragile her ego was.

"Be brutally honest," Charlene pursed her lips, as if afraid for what my answer would be.

I squinted my eyes, expecting for my three letter word to set off a drama bomb, "Yes."

"Maybeck CANNOT see me like this! I must look like a swamp monster if YOU'RE telling me a look bad!"

I was right. Drama bomb.

"Come on, Charlene," I braced myself for a full fledged verbal attack, "Maybeck doesn't care how you look."

Charlene made a face and said sarcastically, "And we aren't crossed over into Disney World. That burn Finn got on his arm first time we crossed over together was from a cigarette, not a laser beam."

All of a sudden, Princess Charlene became visible once again, but her deeply tanned skin looked paler than usual.

"Did you feel that?" Charlene beamed excitedly.

Slowly, I nodded, my mind buzzing with newly unlocked memories.

"Oh, my," Charlene's hands flew to cover her smile, "I remember it all. Do you?"

I smiled, "Yes, Charlie."

Happy tears slid down Charlene's cheeks as she tackled me in a hug. Gently, I pushed her away, "But wait," I furrowed my brow, "Who's Maybeck?"

"I honestly don't know. But he's one of the other's I'm supposed to find. I remember you, myself, and five other blank faces. Maybeck must be one of them," Charlene bit her lip in an attractive way.

"I can remember why she's the princess," I muttered under my breath.

"What?" Charlene cocked her head and looked at me.

"Nothing," I smirked, "But how do you know who we have to find?"

Charlene's expression darkened to that of Princess Charlene's and she rose to her typical, elegant position. She raised her chin and flatly stated, "That is none of your concern."

What? We were getting along so well. What happened? Or more pointedly, what did I say? "Charlene-" I started, only to be cut off.

Sternly, Princess Charlene's royal adviser, whom had appeared at her side the second she stood, corrected me, "I believe that's Princess Charlene to you. And speaking of which, Princess-"

This time it was the Princess doing the cutting off, "I do not wish to hear any opposing opinions on my decision for Jessica's punishment. Please inform two members of my personal guard to escort her to a lady-in-waiting room and leave a butler to assist her with whatever she wishes. Unless she wants to leave the grounds or see myself, Jessica shouldn't be told the word 'no'," Her Highness took a short lived, I'm assuming supposed to be calming, breath before saying, "I will be in my chambers until dinner and do not wish to be disturbed. Send in Marie to help me dress for dinner at five. Oh, and speaking of which, let a server know that Jessica's dinner is to be brought to her room," As if either of our acts were voluntary, Charlene coldly thanked us both and briskly escorted herself into her personal office.

Snapping out of Charlene's cold and threatening trance, the adviser whipped his head around to face Charlene's personal guard, "You heard the Princess," he pointed to two random soldiers, "You two. Escort Jessica to her new chambers," he gestured to another soldier, "And you, please fetch me a glass of water. I'm feeling a bit heady."

Before I knew it, the two guards had gruffly grabbed each of my elbows and whisked me up four flights of stairs and into a large, grand bedroom. Immediately after I stumbled to my feet, they shut the door and left.

I panted, trying to catch my breath. I wasn't the most athletic person in the world, and I just kept pace with two, tall, burly men in a cardio footrace, "Bloody hell," I spat out, "What is her problem?"