The Runaway Queen

Chapter 11

I've done several bad things in my time. I've been the cause of deaths. I've caused pain. I've broken windows, and stolen more things then I can count on 50 men's fingers. Let's face it-I'm not exactly the prim, proper, angel of a child my father wanted.

To other people, taking Roth's picture might not seem like the worst thing I've done, but to me I think it would of hurt less if I had stabbed him. I just stole a picture of his family-probably one of the most precious things he owns. Even more valuable now that they're all gone.

Have you ever messed up? Like made a huge mistake? Then you realize what happened and you feel awful but it's too late. The damage is done, and no matter what you do you can never repair it. I'm sure you've felt like that-I know I've felt like that. That's exactly how I'm feeling right now.

I vow then and there that I will get that picture back to Roth. I swear on my life. If I don't keep that promise, it means that I'm probably already dead. But (obviously) I'm hoping that I'm going to be alive long enough to give it to Roth in person.

Once we arrive in camp, Mali turns to me and smiles.

"You did well. I'm proud."

I step back, not expecting the praise. I grit my teeth. What is she so proud of? I want to scream and yell at her. But obviously I can't do that. So I force a smile onto my face.

"I know." I say smugly. Mali claps me on the back friendly.

"C'mon. Your one of us now."

Dinner with the thieves is certainly much different then one at the castle.

And I love it.

It's boisterous, and noisy, with food flying everywhere. I'm right in the middle of it, throwing food with the best of them. Eventually we quiet down. Everybody but myself goes to sleep. I sit at the fire, watching the flames flicker.

I know this is the part when I'm supposed to be all deep and stuff-when I'm deep and thought and suddenly a perfect solution comes to me along with a meaningful quote. But to be honest I'm not in the mood. I'm just happy to be alive.

Branwen comes and sits to my left.

"Your one of us now." She states. I look over at her tiny figure.

"I suppose I am." I say. For a while we sit in silence.

"How old are you anyway?" I ask her. I've said this before, but I swear she looks like she's 10.

Branwen looks at me, then looks away.

"I don't know. My mom abandoned me as a small baby and I've lived on the streets ever since. I've never had a birthday." She says sadly. A pang of sadness pangs through me. Poor kid. She has it pretty bad. I instinctively put my arm around her.

"Well, you look like you could be 12." I tell her. Branwen perks up a little.

"Ok!" She smiles. I smile down at her.

I like this kid.

We sit until Mali comes up behind me.

"It's your lucky day. We're going to the Amazons. Your coming."