How The Princess Rewrote Her Tragic Ending - Chapter 121

[Meanwhile, at what once was Ogden Cove]

As I cleaned whisker’s litter box, the strange dream lingered in my mind. Purple hair…tan skin…Reynard’s head scarf… Was it all connected somehow? Or was I just being too paranoid?

Yes, I must be overthinking. There’s no way a child of such a fragile frame could’ve survived a fall from that height. He would’ve died instantly by the immense pain from broken joints, if not by the fractured bones themselves. I clenched the small spade in my hand, the foul stench of Whiskers’ droppings wafting all around, though of no effect on me as such mind boggling thoughts revolved in my head.

“Hurry it up, will you?” Mama said as she slapped me on the back. I froze up and all thoughts vanished from my mind in but a moment. “You’re taking ages. If I was able enough to bend my knees, lassie, I swear upon God I would’ve cleaned his tray out myself.”

I rubbed my back, glaring at her with the spade raised in the air.

“Then why don’t you make Sven do it?” I exclaimed. “Free me of my suffering and your work will be done in a second.”

“Don’t get snappy with me,” she retorted and slapped me on the back more times than I can count.

After a sore back and a clean tray for Whiskers to poop inside all over again, the job was done. Exhausted and enveloped by the toxic fumes from head to toe, I staggered out of Mama’s room and collapsed on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

I looked up and Sven’s shoes greeted me. Further up was attached the rest of him and I lay my head back down, groaning.

“It’s all because of you,” I muttered. “Who goes grocery shopping so early in the morning? You left me behind to rot, didn’t you?”

He chuckled in reply and walked past me to put away all the groceries in the kitchen. While he did so, he silently watched me through the open door and burst out laughing when I turned my head to the other side.

“But why ever are you lying on the floor?” he asked behind me, the clinking of jars echoing through the airy room as he put them away in the overhead cupboards.

“Because I’m dying,” I responded curtly. “Listen, buddy, have you ever seen rat poop up close?”

He shrugged. “I was the one who always cleaned his tray prior to your arrival. So yes, I have.”

“And do you know how stinky it is?”

He chuckled as he checked the label on one jar. “I’m sure I do.”

I frowned and sat up. “So you knew I’d hate it, and still you left intentionally. You wretch.”

Sven smiled as he looked at me from the kitchen, his silver hair glowing from the sunlight that flooded in through the small kitchen window. That was it. He didn’t even reply. But that sly smile said everything. I groaned and leaned back against the wall.

“I need a bath,” I muttered to myself as I stared up at the low ceiling. Even if I didn’t like my life back at home, at least there was a bathtub and a properly functioning bathroom.

“There aren’t any baths at the inn!” Sven called from the kitchen.

“Shut up! I know.”

I held my head and took a deep breath. I felt like crap, and smelled like it, too. I was about to grovel because of this situation when there was a sudden knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” I muttered bitterly as I lifted myself off the floor and trotted over to the door. I undid the locks and the door creaked on its hinges as I pulled it open just a bit. Even without looking, I knew Sven’s eyes were at the door as well.

“Hi,” said the visitor.

I smiled even before I looked up to see who it was. I just knew.

“Hey, Reynard. Come on in.”

Today, Reynard wore the same head scarf he had worn that day, but it was tied more loosely around his head as if he had done it in a hurry. I gulped when I caught sight of the several patches of purple hair and all of a sudden, I was reminded of my horrible dream. I even thought I saw the little boy’s face in Reynard, and for a moment, I was transfixed in my spot.

“Hellooo~?” Reynard waved his hand before my eyes, waiting for me to move.

“Oh. Oh, sorry,” I said quickly, shaking my head. What had I been thinking? Reynard was just a commoner. There’s no way he had a history at the Imperial Palace. Right, I must be overthinking. “Come in.”

“Where are the guests?” Reynard asked as he walked past me inside and looked around.

“Ah.” The images of the burning bodies flashed in my mind and I faltered. “T-They left a few days ago. Yeah. They left.”

Reynard turned around and scowled. “You’re talking strangely. Did something happen?”

“No!” My response came before he had even completed his sentence. Reynard made a face. I needed to get the conversation back on track, so I decided to change subjects. “So, what’s been going on with you? Where were you these past couple days?”

Reynard gave a loud sigh. “Mmm, let’s not go there.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Why? Something happened, didn’t it?”

He clicked his tongue. “I don’t want to talk about it. Where’s Mama?” Before I could answer, he walked past me and knocked on the door to Mama’s room. “Ma! Mama Ruth! I’m coming in.”

“Hol’ up, you little bastard!” came Mama’s screech from inside. Reynard stood back, and then a moment later, Mama emerged from the room, her face contorted in anger.

“What?” Reynard asked, puzzled.

“Lower your head.”

“Huh?”

Mama gave a polite smile, but the masked fury behind it was unmistakable. “I said lower your head.”

Hesitantly, Reynard crouched down and howled in pain as Mama pinched his ear and twisted.

“You little wench,” Mama screeched as she pulled him down. “I heard you played with my diary without my permission?”

“Wha-a-a-at!?” he howled. “When was that?”

Mama shot me an accusing glare and I looked away, scared. Damn, someone was dead meat tonight.

“And then you refuse to come visit me even once, eh? You really are a little bastard,” Mama exclaimed and twisted his ear beyond any possibilities, and I wondered if Reynard’s screams would bring all the neighbors to the inn.

Then before things could proceed, she let go of his ear and as if a kitten being cornered by a larger cat, Reynard recoiled in pain and fear.

He snapped his head around to look at me, his eyes wide with incredulous curiosity, and I smiled back.

“Alright, since you’re here,” she muttered and looked towards the kitchen, but gave him a second glance and frowned. “What’s that thing on your head?”

Instinctively, Reynard touched his hair and was only greeted by the black piece of cloth that was tied securely around his head.

“Oh, this,” he muttered and patted his head, making sure nothing was revealing. “Fashion.” He shrugged indifferently. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Before Mama could blow all up in his face again, Reynard stretched his arms and headed upstairs.

“Where are you going?” Mama asked as his heavy feet thudded against the weak wooden stairs.

He yawned. “I didn’t sleep a blink last night, so I think I’ll go take a doze.”

Mama scoffed and pointed a bent, old finger at him. “You visit after such a long time and you do what? Sleep? I won’t allow it. Come talk to me.”

He waved a dismissive hand and continued climbing the stairs. “Nah. Very sleepy. Your Highness, please wake me after an hour or so.”

And with that, he headed to the rooms and it was too late to stop him as he entered my room. My room. Where we threw all the blood sodden bedsheets. It must’ve escaped all of our minds, which proved to be a big mistake as Reynard looked over the banister with his mouth agape.

“What. The. F*ck. Is. That.” His voice was a mixture of a whisper and a hiss. His eyes were wide and he jabbed his thumb towards my room each time he came to a period.

Mama and I exchanged nervous glances, not knowing how to answer him. There was no way any sort of excuse would help, but still, I went forward and tried.

“R-Remember the guests earlier,” I said, my voice high-pitched suddenly. “One of them got hurt…by a car! Yes, they got hit by a car.”

I thought I did wonderfully, but I received two pairs of puzzled glances.

“What’s a car?” Mama asked, frowning.

I opened my mouth to answer but no words came out. Crapppppp! Why do I mix both the eras up? There aren’t even any cars here, for goodness’ sake!

“Car..riage! I meant a carriage!” I patted myself for a good save. “One of the guests got hit by a carriage and we had him lay on my bed.”

Reynard, apparently, was still not buying it. “If he was so hurt to the point he was bleeding profusely like that, why didn’t you put him in the first room? Or Mama’s room?”

Mama laughed nervously. And then, “Enough! If you aren’t sleeping then come down and clean Whiskers’ potty tray.”

I frowned and turned to her. “But I did that already.”

“WELL HE DOESN’T KNOW THAT!”

For a moment, all was silent after that. Then amidst the immense tension, Sven emerged from the kitchen, and failing to recognize the atmosphere, broke the silence.

“Um, this jam jar has worms in it.”