16. Jasper

sixteen

Jasper

I watched the cab shrink over the horizon, feeling even . I attributed the feeling of evenness as peace, which was brand new to me. It didn't come from leaving Evie, as that put my heart in a chokehold. If anything, it came from having Evie, a person to connect with. I hated leaving her with all this uncertainty, but she couldn't come where I was going. I didn't want to apprise her of the details, and that's why I was ambiguous. Plus, she went home to a warm bed, food, and all the amenities, which was the best thing for her.

I can't wait to join her.

Now I have a new mission.

To find my mother.

I sort of had a plan, but it had a few potential flaws. First, I was going to hitch a ride—or walk if I couldn't find a random stranger to pick me up—to the palace, at which point I would stroll right up to the golden gate and knock.

My gaze slid to the side, as I already knew that wouldn't work. They would never let a homeless thief on their grounds, let alone give me a chance to talk to the queen.

How about a disguise?

I could find a mailman shirt or something. I pondered as I sauntered past the businesses on the wharf and headed toward the palace. I'd never been to this little country before, but it wasn't hard to navigate as the palace loomed high over the village on a hill, standing taller than any other structure. It really was an impressive architectural masterpiece, with its ivory towers and spirals of windows that seemed to wrap to the sky.

I cut through an alley and came out in a clearing filled with vendors, resembling something like a street carnival. Food trucks and drink carts lined the road, and everything from face painting booths to jugglers took the main stage in the center. My stomach churned, begging for a taste of the decadent smell. The old me would have snuck behind a hotdog cart and helped myself, but something in me had changed. It didn't give me the same thrill. I pushed my rumbles aside and continued.

Cheerful music piped out, and kids and elderly alike all danced in a circle. They clapped, they stomped, they bowed to their neighbor, and took their hands and twirled. I stood back watching, thinking about what a happy little village this seemed to be. I had the steps about memorized when it dawned on me. This was the merchant square Captain told me about. This was exactly what he had seen when he'd wandered off his boat all those years ago. It must just be a Saturday tradition to gather in the square, that never fell away, even after all these years.

With candy-colored houses, and cobble stone streets, it was the quaintest village I'd ever seen, and it was certainly enjoyable to stroll through. My gaze swept both ways as I crossed the street, turning on the white pebble path leading to the palace road. My palms started to sweat, as I only had so much time to figure out something persuasive to say to get me inside. Yet, I knew I could do it. After escaping death so many times this last week, I wasn't intimidated by this.

Okay, maybe I was getting cocky?

A mere peptalk.

In the past, my arrogance had been my demise.

Today, I squared my shoulders back, put one foot in front of the other, and set my sight on the palace…An ordinary laugh that was nothing special wafted from the center of the dancing circle, halting my steps.

Nah, it can't be.

I slid my foot out, ready to continue but the laughter bubbled again. This time it sent a spear right through my heart, and I pivoted quickly without it ever registering in my brain that I started jogging back down the hill. My ears were so attuned to it, as if an invisible string was reeling me in, and I didn't stop until I was standing in the back of the sea of dancers, still unable to get eyes on her .

What does she look like?

Will she even remember me?

I had no clue what I'd say, but I was standing on my toes, stretching my neck tall, yearning for a glimpse as I wove through the tightly packed crowd. My breath rushed in fast and heaved out faster as everything was unfolding like a fairytale. I finally made it to the front row and steeled my gaze forward, prepared to hold my breath, but it came easy. Looking at her was easier than anything I'd done in my life.

She was certainly regal, her beauty still evident despite the years, and survival of a heartbreak that would kill many. With perfect posture, she was tall, almost as tall as me. Her eyes shimmered sea green and were framed by wispy strands of silver hair which had fallen from her full crown-wrapped bun. Her eyes caught mine, and for a moment I thought they would stay frozen together, but she quickly passed over me. She turned to the child by her side, asking about the child's schooling. I closed my eyes, and let her voice wrap about me, and I was sinking into a pile of feather pillows, already warmed.

"Your Majesty." I hadn't planned on speaking out, but that invisible string was pulling so tight, and I couldn't risk it breaking another time.

Her eyes swept back to me. "How do you do?"

My lips were putty, so dry and hard to mold into words. I ran my tongue over them, hydrating them. "My father has sent something for you." I pulled the wrinkled map out of my satchel, still amazed it even looked like a map after everything it had been through. With trembling fingers, I held it out for her to see.

Her gaze dropped, and so did her expression. All color drained from her face before her eyes sprang wide back to me, panic etched in all the features of her face. "Where did you get this?"

"My father," I repeated. "You sent it to him."

"I don't believe it." Her hand slipped over the map as she whisked it away from me, and gently pressed it to her heart. Her eyes glistened back. "Your father?"

I nodded as tears jabbed at the back of my eyes, but I held onto them and quietly bowed my head. The crowd hushed, everyone fanning around, watching us. It was as if she was reminded we weren't alone because she passed her gaze to the side, and then curtly smiled at me. "What is your name, sir?"

"Jasper Night."

"Night is an interesting surname. Where abouts is your father from?"

"It's not my father's surname. I was told I was given the name because I showed up in the orphanage in the middle of the night, in a bundle, with a note that said, my name was only Jasper. The aids started calling me Jasper of the Night, and eventually it became Jasper Night."

Her free hand lifted to shield her other hand still holding her heart and her bottom lip rolled under her top where she pitched it tightly, before forcing a tight smile. Again, her eyes flew to the crowd around us, and she whispered, "Can we talk somewhere else?"

"Of course." Fear ripped through my body. Now, afraid she was embarrassed by me, standing here in my rags, I started to wish I had cleaned up first. However, I didn't have anything to clean up into. She more than likely wanted to tell me to leave her alone while also not wanting to make a scene. "This is not my village. I have nowhere to offer, as I'm only passing through, but we can walk?"

"Thank you all for sharing your afternoon with me." She stuck her hand out to wave to her friends, politely calling out, "It's getting late, and I'm going to visit with my guest."

Most of the crowd had already lost interest in her since she had stopped paying attention, and the guards that had been standing behind her automatically moved to follow us. Her eyes caught them both, and without having to request a change of pace, they instinctively understood to hang back more than a few steps, and we all moved together down the cobblestone street toward the palace.

Her steps were light and graceful, and the farther we moved away from the crowd, her expression shifted to one of warmer inflections. "My heart is pounding too fast," she started once we were out of hearing range. "I'm going to cut to the chase. I know who you are. You look just like my father." She tried to stifle her cries by pressing her petite palm over her mouth, but it didn't conceal her quivering jaw. "How are you?"

Stunned, I didn't have words. I had assumed she'd be full of questions, wondering how I found her or what I wanted from her. I hadn't thought for a moment the first one would be her asking about me . So many nights I'd laid awake, dreaming of this moment. I always assumed my mother never cared how I was.

I didn't dare tell her who I really turned out to be— a thief.

Even though I'd just met her, I wasn't ready to see shame in her eyes.

She would turn me away, and I craved another moment with her, enough to imprint a seed of something I could carry with me. "I'm well." It came out sounding more like a question, and the widening of her eyes told me she didn't really believe it.

"And your childhood?" Her voice was tiny. "Was it happy?"

An itch sprang up behind my ear, and I scratched it, taking the time to reply. I'd never been a liar, and I just couldn't go down that road again after everything with Evie.

"Oh my." Her eyes locked on my scar. "That's what they did to you when you were just a baby." She blinked in rapid succession, but it no longer held back the tears, as each blink pulled down a single tear. "I never had a choice to give you away. I searched for years, and it was like they'd hidden you from me. There hasn't been a day that I haven't thought about you." She shook her head back and forth, letting the tears cascade freely now. Maybe I expected my mother to be more closed off, and private, but she wasn't that way at all. She honestly just looked broken.

Like me.

Only in nicer clothing.

She opened her arms slightly, as if not to get her hopes up too much. "Can I hug you?"

It was like the hands of time rewound, giving grace to all the moments we never shared, and I stepped forward to embrace her.

She never asked me what I wanted from her.

Call it a mother's intuition, but I felt she just knew I didn't want any thing but to know her , and her willingness to let me in was evident from that first embrace.

"You have to come back to the palace with me." My mother beckoned me forward as she strolled down the pebbled path. "I have so many things to show you.

Blinking, I did my best to wake from this dream, because I couldn't imagine the disappointment I'd feel if this continued to unfold perfectly, and I'd wake up later.

Nothing changed.

I stood on solid ground staring at my mother beaming back at me, and I breathed a little lighter as I stepped in unison with her. I was going to the palace with my mother, two things I never in my life thought I would say.

The palace was a palace, was a palace. There's not much more you can say but that. It was exactly how you'd picture a place where royalty lived. From its high cathedral ceilings with gold and crystal chandeliers hanging in every room, to the huge grand halls, and spiral staircases. I fought to keep my jaw from hanging open. Everything about it was grand, and my mother passed through the halls with her chin up as if she hardly noticed her surroundings were anything unusual.

Servants bustled around cleaning, and a personal maid seemed to come out of nowhere as soon as we passed through the front entrance. She was waiting ready to replace Mother's outdoor shoes with warm slippers. The place ran like a well-oiled machine, and my eyes panned over each room we passed, awe filling my chest.

Did I feel like I missed out on something?

Maybe a little.

Okay, that's a huge understatement.

Confusion throbbed in the front of my brain. How in the world did I grow up so completely opposite to my mother? My heart sank as we passed through yet another chamber. This one filled with walls of museum-worthy canvas paintings and marble sculptures. I had always assumed my mother had been too poor to raise me.

This was quite the opposite.

Not humbling at all.

In fact, it was infuriating.

Surely, there'd would have been some tiny corner in this place that I could have lived as I didn't require much. She had every resource in the entire country at her fingertips, and nobody could say boo about it because she was the queen. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I stayed silent as death when we passed into yet another room, this one smaller than the last with a rich crimson rug in the center of the room, and a Queen Anne desk in front of the large bay window. Here, she slowed her steps, shutting the solid wood door behind her, and turned to gaze to me. "This is my private office. All my staff know they aren't to interrupt. It's the only place I can really speak openly. Come," she waved me farther into the room, motioned for me to sit on one of the high-back chairs, "make yourself comfortable. We have so much to talk about."

"Where do we start." I promptly sat exactly where she had pointed, not wanting to do anything to wear out my welcome before I was ready to leave. The chair cushion was so soft, I sunk right down into it, feeling a heaviness encapsulate my whole body.

She gracefully sat in the chair opposite me, taking the time to tuck her dress perfectly beneath her but she didn't raise her gaze when she started, "I'd like to start with an apology."

I waved dismissively. "No, there's no need—"

"Please." Her face stilled, waiting for me to allow her the space to talk, and I buttoned my lip before she went on, "I wasn't in this position when I had you, as I was under my father's rule." Her gaze took a faraway expression. "This would have been so different if only the timing was better."

"It's fine , really," I squeaked out. So many nights I slept under the stars as that was my only option, and I dreamed of all the fake identities I could give myself to give a face to my real family. Never in a million years could anybody convince me my mom was an actual queen. Yet, the most surprising thing is that I had empathy for her situation.

"It's not fine, but it is what it is." Her eyelids appeared heavy as she raised her gaze to meet mine again. "My father passed away a year ago. With me being the only heir, taking the crown was an easy transition for me. I never married again, as I never had my first marriage dissolved. I willingly took the throne as governing gives me a way to give back, and nobody is making decisions for me anymore."

Swallowing, my brow furrowed as I tried to hear the words she wasn't speaking. "I can't make up for lost time," she went on, "life is short, and I hate to waste any more of the precious time we've been given. What would you say about moving into the palace with me, and getting to know the life that was stolen from you?"

My brows shot to the ceiling, and I leaned forehead as her invitation rung around my head. That can't be right. "Pardon me?" I sputtered out.

"No pressure of course, and if you don't find it comfortable, you may leave whenever." A light blush crept down her cheek. "I realize you aren't a child anymore, and you certainly have your own life, but I want to offer you the chance to try to regain what is rightfully yours."

Am I dehydrated?

Is this what happens when you accidentally swallow too much salt water, because I actually love this sensation.

Give me all the salt water.

"Did you hear me?" My mother leaned forward, tilted her head a measure closer.

"Yeah, I heard you but I'm a little stunned."

"It's a lot to consider, and again, I would never ask you to abandon your life but maybe for a while—a vacation perhaps—and we can get to know each other."

Of course, I didn't have a life to abandon. There's nobody ever waiting on me, well except for this one time there is actually… Evie.

My stomach knotted as I recalled our insane week together, leaving us both in a place where we didn't really know what we were to each other. I wanted more than anything to continue on the path of connection with Evie, but she's a famous actress. Would she even really care to hang out again once she gets back into her amazing life?

"We must have a celebration," she cut in, a smile growing on her lips. "A ball to announce to the country that you are alive, and inline for the throne. Everyone will be invited, and no expense will be spared." She placed a palm over her chest before leaning forward, "Sorry, I keep getting ahead of myself. I should have asked if you have a wife, or a family. Anyone who is a family of yours, is welcome as well."

"I'm not married," I started slowly, not having any idea how to explain Evie as we hardly knew each other. "But there is this one person, Evie is her name, and she's… special ?" My voice ticked up at the end, as if I was asking a question, and one I wanted an answer, too. I wanted to know what Evie was to me.

"Wonderful." My mother clapped her hands together in front of her, sealing the conversation. " We can send for her. I can't wait to meet her."

My gaze dropped, now unable to visualize how that conversation would even work. How would I explain all this to Evie? Would she think I lied to her, or was currently lying, because there is no way, I would believe this. "I, ah, would love that," I added firmly, my heart swelling so full at all the thoughts of Evie possibly coming here.

In all the dreams I dared to dream over the years, nothing was as amazing as all of this had the potential to be. If only it goes the way that I hoped…