Xanthopsia

Chapter 10 - Other Side of the Coin

Whilst Faye is struggling with the poverty-ridden world around her, the group of her kidnappers gathers. Tammy sighs as she realises none of the other women were successful in locating the Princess either. Boyd looks up as they all walk in, an air of defeat about them. He motions to the table, where he's laid out a few drinks and refreshments. "Oddly polite of you Boyd." Tammy mutters. He shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head.

"You just wanted to do what was best. Just sucks that the Princess decided to make a run for it."

"That's true. I hope the poor girl's doing alright." Rosie murmurs, taking a seat and a sip from the mug. Boyd nods.

"She's just going to learn the hard way that we weren't lying."

"I suppose so." Rosie replies. They sit in silence for a while; the occasional sipping and clatter of plates being the only noises to break it. A sense of what is in store for the Princess seems to descend on the group.

"What happens if they don't find her?" Gorina asks, tapping her fingers against the mug anxiously. "If she sleeps in the streets she could really get into trouble..." she adds. The silence around the group seems to tighten. They all glance furtively at one another before Boyd speaks up.

"Look, we'll do our best to get her back. At any rate she'll have to take off the glimmer hood at some point, won't she? So even if we can't get her back, the guards will eventually get her to safety."

"You care about her safety?" Tammy asks, raising one eyebrow, "you've been nothing but vile since she got here, from what Julian says."

"She's been the one that's hard to deal with." he retorts. "Just so sure that she's in the right, that her criminal father is a precious soul who can do no wrong and-"

"That's all she knows, son." Rosie whispers, reaching out and squeezing Boyd's hand softly. "What if someone were to kidnap you and tell you we were the ones in the wrong?" she reasons. Boyd scoffs.

"I know that's not true."

"And that's exactly how she feels." Rosie says, smiling softly.

"It's not the same though." he argues. Rosie shakes her head, sighing.

"Girls, I reckon you should head home, your mother's are probably worried sick." she says, starting to clear up the empty mugs and plates.

"We can help-" Tammy starts, but Rosie interrupts her with a 'buh buh buh' and motions to the door. The girls know there's no use arguing with Rosie when she gets like this, so they all say their goodbyes and head out.

Rosie sits in her room, perched on the end of the bed, a framed photo in her hands. How did it come to this, she finds herself wondering, where did it all go wrong? She knows that the answer is the darkness of Xanthopsia, a magic powerful enough to ruin lives. Lives that were once so intertwined. A tear trickles down her cheek, splattering over the glass. She wipes it away with her thumb, sighing. Her head jolts up as she hears the door to her room creaking open. Denthon leans against the door jamb, smiling softly at his wife. "Are you alright love?" he asks, stepping into the room. Rosie nods, half-smiling at him.

"She's so much like her mother."

"I know. But she's also learned so much from Derek as well. Her stubbornness and wit, for starters." Denthon says, taking a seat next to his wife and looking at the photo as well. Six smiling faces stare back at him, seemingly timeless in their joy.

"She's a smart cookie." Rosie agrees. Denthon takes her hand and squeezes it softly.

"That she is. And once she realises what's going on in the city she'll be back. Justice always finds a way."

"She must be so lost and confused, the poor dear. We should've taken her when we had the chance." Rosie says, her eyes going a little cold. Denthon shifts uncomfortably, his grip on her hand loosening, eyes downcast.

"It would have been too risky, we could've lost Boyd as well..."

"We could've saved the girl!"

"Saved her from what? She's lived a perfectly fine life."

"Material goods aren't enough. The only relationships she knows are built on farce."

"Derek loves her." Denthon says, shaking his head.

"I'm not disputing that. But he has also stopped her from becoming who she can be. He's kept her sheltered and alone. He raised her to be dependent on him."

"What could we have given her here that would be any different? She'd just be dependent on us, look at Boyd."

"Boyd has other relationships. He has friends and our distant family, he interacts with the children and the general public. We live a very emotionally rich life. She doesn't."

"She had enough comforts growing up. We did the right thing." Denthon mutters.

"You tell yourself that love, but I think we both know that we didn't. We were scared and selfish and that girl got caught in the middle of it all. Lord knows what she's thinking and feeling right now." Rosie says, clutching the photograph hard, her knuckles turning white. Denthon takes a deep breath and sighs, putting his head in his hands. An uneasy silence falls on the pair, clogging their lungs until Denthon finally raises his head.

"I often play that night back in my mind Rosie. I do." he whispers softly, his voice cracking a little. Rosie reaches out and squeezes his hand tightly. He locks his eyes with hers. "It's all my fault."

"No it wasn't darling. It's just a messy situation." Rosie replies, her gaze softening. "Hindsight is a wonderful, painful thing."

"That it is."

Boyd runs his hand through his hair as he eavesdrops on his parents' conversation. What on earth do they mean? They could've brought Prissy out with them? She could've been a real part of the rebellion? But none of that makes sense. If they could have taken her out of that place surely they would've done that. He turns and heads up the stairs, stopping in front of the room she was in. He steps into the room and looks around. This might've been her room. They might've got on. She could've been the sister he never had. Shaking his head of those thoughts, he steps back out of the room. No use on ruminating on what-if's and what-could've-been. He slinks into his room and starts on cleaning his boots. Despite wanting to completely distance his mind from the princess she is all he can think about as he scrapes the mud off. She knows nothing about the realities of life outside the palace, and he doubts that the streets will be kind to her. Where will she even go? As he watches the dark flakes falling to the ground he finds himself feeling... worried. Not an emotion he ever thought he'd associate with her.