How The Princess Rewrote Her Tragic Ending - Chapter 122

“So…”

Reynard and I sat on my bed in Room#5 this time. After the whole shabang before, he had become void of all sleep and had quietly followed me up to my room, just somewhere away from furious Mama Ruth.

“…weren’t you going to sleep?”

Reynard leaned back on my bed and stared off into the distance, as if thinking about something.

“No, I was joking earlier,” he muttered. “Anyways, how’ve you been faring lately?”

I smiled as I sat with my back against the bed’s headboard, my knees tucked under my chin.

“Good,” I said as I stared at him curiously. “Will you now tell me about the reason you decided to start wearing a headscarf?”

Honestly, I was dying to know. If his hair really turned out to be the shade of purple I had embedded in my mind, then… Then what? What would I say to him? That I thought he’s royalty? How would I explain my claim, then? By saying that I saw it in a dream? He’d laugh at me, surely.

And he already had parents! And a sister, too! There’s no way he is who I think he is. Like I keep telling myself, I must be overthinking. Yes, that must be it.

I watched in anticipation as Reynard untied the scarf at the back of his neck and started unwrapping it, slowly and carefully.

“Sooo I got a new hair color,” he muttered in between, pausing.

I raised an eyebrow. “Artificially?”

He pursed his lips for a while contemplating ways to answer. Then he sighed. “Um, you should be the judge of that.”

My eyes widened with amazement as his scarf came off and under it was revealed a head full of purple hair, a color I was already very familiar with.

“So it is you,” I whispered with a small gasp. “No way… There’s no way…”

Reynard tilted his head in confusion. “Erm, it is a strange color, I know. Do I look daft?” he asked as he stroked his hair. “Will it be okay to go out without the cloth?”

“No!” I said, almost too quickly. Reynard frowned. “I-I mean, yes, it looks daft. Very daft. Don’t go outside without that thing,”- I pointed at the black scarf in his hand- “and don’t ever show anyone your hair. Ever! Do you hear me?”

Reynard scoffed, a dazed look on his face. “That’s what my sister said, too. What is the deal with you guys?”

Something about what Reynard said struck me as strange. Something about it bothered me. His sister told him to not go out unless he wore his scarf? But why would she tell him that? Surely not because she thinks he looks stupid, right? Then why else would she bring him down like that?

She doesn’t know, does she?

I stared intently at the bedsheet, considering the possibility. No, no there’s no way she knows. Yeah, I’m getting way ahead of myself. But if I’m wrong, and she really does know, then why is she hiding it from him?

I looked at Reynard and by the innocent look of him, I realized that he had no idea. No idea of his own capability.

“Alright, cover it up again,” I said curtly as I threw the black scarf on his head, and it landed lightly like a feather. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Reynard chuckled playfully as he lifted the scarf off his face, unoffended.

“Princess, may I ask you a question?” he asked suddenly, his tone changing to a one of grave seriousness. He looked into my eyes expressionlessly.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“I heard that only members of the Royal family had superior enough genes to possess purple hair or the likes,” he said, paused and put his hand over his hair. “So what does that say about me?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled as if he couldn’t believe what he was implying. “There’s no way I could be a member of the Royal Family, right?”

I flinched. Don’t overreact, don’t overreact, don’t overreact, don’t overreact, PLEASE don’t overreact. That’s what I kept telling myself as I thought about how to respond.

“Reynard,” I said eventually, “but you already have your birth parents, and they aren’t royalty. So how could you possibly be-”

“I’m adopted.” The words were like a knife in the gut and I paused, trying to absorb his words.

“What did you say?”

“I said I’m adopted.”

Alright so he was adopted. Big deal. There’s still no way his real father was the Emperor. Wait… Now that I think about it, if the small boy really did escape his uncle’s reach, where did he go? I answered my own question: The city. Of course he went to the city. Wherever else could he go? Alright so the little boy somehow escaped to the city after he survived that long fall, and somehow carried himself to a house. No, not Reynard’s house. Somewhere closer to the palace. But the residents turned the dirty little boy matted with blood and dirt away because they haven’t a heart.

Then what?

The little boy goes and knocks on every door in the street till eventually he turns up at Reynard’s house. I remember Sir Simon Gradral telling me that he lived quite close to the palace. So it was a possibility that the boy turned up at the door to house Gradral, where Sir Gradral- being the kind man that he was- let the little boy in.

Due to his youth and lack of foresight, the little prince must’ve told everything about his parents’ murder and his uncle going on a rampage, and Mister and Mrs Gradral, thinking that it was dangerous to turn the kid away, adopted the boy and changed his name. After all this, was it possible that they dyed his hair black to conceal his identity completely?

Yes, I thought, it was a likely option.

Then, as the boy grew up, he slowly forgot about his past (like children usually do) and grew up to be a part of his warm new family.

I chuckled to myself, knowing how far-fetched I sounded. Even though this was a cozy prospect, the whole thing may just be a figment of my imagination.

“Something on your mind?” Reynard asked as he wrapped the scarf around his head once again.

I shook awake from my dream-like state and looked at Reynard. This time, unlike all others, he seemed like a different person to me. Was it possible this man had royal blood running through his veins? Wait a second.

If he really was the boy I saw in my dreams, then does it mean Reynard could very well be my long lost brother? Brother!?

My expression must have been so horrified that Reynard sat up worriedly.

“What? What happened?” he asked as he searched my face for an answer.

Unable to keep myself, I whispered out, “If you really do turn out to be royalty, does it ultimately mean that you’re my brother?”

It took him a minute to understand where I was coming from, and then he did something I least expected him to. He burst out laughing.

“Did you actually think I was serious?” he gasped in between cackles. “It was a mere joke; don’t take it to heart! I mean,”- he gestured at himself in a mocking manner- “does it look like I’m a prince or something of the likes?”

I blushed a deep, embarrassed red.

“You don’t have to say it like that,” I mumbled as I lowered my face on my knees and hid. “You can’t blame the current you and detach yourself from your past.”

There was a moment of silence and then Reynard poked a hard finger into my arm. I looked up at him and frowned at his wide eyes.

“Wait,” he whispered. “You’re serious about this. You think I’m your brother.”

I gulped.

He gave a soft scoff, as if he couldn’t even believe the idea.

“Why?” he asked gravely.

I leaned in, unable to hear him properly. “Pardon?”

“Why do you think I’m your brother?”

I sat back and blinked. It took me a full minute to realize what he meant. Was he actually considering my nervous babble? (Though I knew it was probably true.)

“Why do I think you’re my brother?” I repeated. “I-I… I know you won’t believe my reason…”

He leaned in, curiosity all over his face. “Tell me. Tell me why you think I’m your brother.”

I gulped, suddenly frightened of his reaction. Would he think I’m daft for believing in a dream? If I was in his place, I know I would.

“I-I-I saw it all!” I stuttered eventually, closing my eyes so I won’t be able to see the ridiculing expression on his face. “I saw in a dream where…” I paused and thought about it. If the part about Reynard was probably true, than what of the uncle? The man named Barion who had so easily killed the Emperor and his wife. The man who looked just like the Emperor. A twin…?

But then if my dream was true and the real Emperor is actually dead, then who’s the guy who pretended to be my father all this time?

I gave a loud, shaky gasp as it all came to light.

It was the uncle! He had killed his brother and his wife and had taken the throne! God, God, no… Sweat trickled down my forehead as all the puzzle pieces started to fit together. It all started to make sense why the Emperor seemed indifferent to matters regarding me at times, why he missed my ceremony, and why he threw the whole of Wisteria into chaos after I disappeared. It was never because I was his daughter, not at all. He was only hungry for the power.

That time I first met him out in the gardens, he, though very softly but with a stony expression on his face, had told me first to prepare for the ceremony myself. But after giving it a second thought, he had changed his mind and had advised me to take care of myself. Even then, it had struck me as a little strange, but I had dismissed the feeling at once.

I mean, how could a parent put such a burden on a fragile girl in the first place? He had thought better of it not because he was worried about me, but because he was worried that I might hurt myself and then my powers wouldn’t resurface.

I know.. I saw the lust for power in his eyes, and it was the most menacing thing I had ever caught sight of.