House of Heirs - S. E. Gutierrez (red white royal blue .txt) 📗

she'd come, retracing her steps. She heard Captain Braun chuckle behind her. 

She turned on him. "Would you like to lead, Captain?" she growled. "Or shall I continue to get us lost?"

He smirked yet again. "Oh, what a grand idea." he snorted, stepping around her. 

She glared at his blue-clad back, cursing him for letting her get so lost. She felt every step in her sides, and her legs were so sore. Thankful for his being in front of her, she let her shoulders drop, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. After what seemed like an eternity, she almost ran into him when he came to a sudden stop in front of a set of rather large and rather stately wooden doors. Samuel knocked on them, and didn't have to wait long before Johnathan answered, a book in his hands, and a smile that never seemed to go away.

"Ah, Sammy, I wondered when you'd come. If you wouldn't mind showing Miss Cera to the Rose Rooms? I'm at a rather mind-boggling part." he grinned, holding up a worn copy of a book Cera had never heard of -- or at least, one she didn't remember.

Samuel sighed. "Fine, but you owe me one. Get back to your book."

Johnathan laughed. "Oh, is that sass I hear? Sassing the Crown Prince is rather dangerous, Sammy."

Cera's eyes widened, Samuel cracked a smile. "Significantly less dangerous when you're the Crown Prince's best freind."

Johnathan laughed, and agreed, sending Cera and Samuel on their way. He continued to remain two steps ahead of her, going faster than she would have liked. She forced her feet to move, and tried to keep her heavy breahting as quiet as she could. She felt like falling over, or taking a nice long nap right there in the hallway. She glared at the back of Captain Braun's head, mentally strangling him for not slowing down. She almost missed it when he glanced over his shoulder. He slowed, then stopped, turning to face her.

"If you needed me to go slower," he said, his voice softer than she'd heard it before, though it was by no means warm. "All you had to do was ask."

She tried to catch her breath enough to respond, but all she could manage was a curt nod. He gave her a long look, something changing in his eyes, and offered her his arm. She stared at it, wondering if she should take it, and admit to weakness, or ignore it and force herself to press on. She opted for the former, and let him practically drag her down the drafty hall.

It felt like hours before he finally slowed to a stop in front of a pair of elegant, yet understated wooden doors. Quite fittingly, they had tiny roses etched into edges, and simple but beautiful patterns of curls and curves carved into the center. She let go of Samuel's arm just long enough for him to push open the doors before grabbing his arm, and staggering through the main chamber to door she she hoped the bedroom was behind. She was right, and nearly wept at the glorious sight of a canopied bed covered in dusty rose linens.

She jumped when Captain Braun picked her up, and nearly screeched when he pressed too hard against her injured side, but the moment she felt the utter softness of the bed, she no longer cared. She kicked off the cream colored slippers Graham and given her, and crawled under the thick blankets. She thought she heard a quiet laugh escape from Captain Samuel Braun of the Cold Shoulder and Familiar Voice, but wasn't coherent enough to really care. She dreamt of nothing that night, and only awoke when she heard the door to her bedchamber squeak open.

She forced her eyes open enough to see Graham and Samuel observing her, and whispering to each other. 

"She walked almost the entire way here on her own." Samuel muttered. "She has to have some kind of strength or training."

She saw Graham shake his head. "Son, I think she's just stubborn."

Braun was silent for a long moment. "No," he whispered, almost to himself. "There's something in the way she moves, the way she holds herslef. There's something she's not telling us."

Graham looked at her, then shifted his gaze to him. "Maybe," he said. "She truly doesn't remember. Her head was hit quite hard, harder than I would have thought, given how long you said she stayed conscious. It could be that she really lost her memory. It isn't unheard of."

Cera yawned, alerting them, tired of hearing herself being discussed. "Good morming, Gramps. Sir Cold Shoulder."

Samuel gave her a withering look. "Excuse me?" he growled.

She smiled innocently, and Graham laughed. "Good morning Miss Cera. How are you feeling."

She thought for a moment, wiggling her fingers and toes, stretching her arms, and her back. She winced. "I do believe that I have been better."

Graham nodded, and gave her some tea for the pain. She took it gladly, and drank it quickly. Samuel continued to glare at her. She rolled her eyes. 

"Is there anything I can do for you, gentleman? Or can I go back to sleep?" she rubbed her eyes, hoping they'd let her get some more rest.

"Actually, there is." Samuel said at the same time Graham told her to rest.

Graham sighed. "If you must question her, Samuel, please be gentle." then he turned and left, wishing Cera luck.

She bestowed a rather murderous glare upon the Captain. "Please, Captain, I would much rather sleep. As you can imagine, I'm tired, sore, and in a general state of disrepair."

He gave her a curt nod. "Fine. Then tell me all that you know."

She sighed. "Alright, if I must. My name is Ceralynn, though I prefer Cera. I beleive I'm from the south-ish. Ellisen doesn't seem right, and neither does Shavonine. I know that Shavonine has conquered the majority of this land -- Tal... Tal... Tallirey?" she paused, and Samuel nodded. "So that only leaves the south. Fannipore. Fannitore? No, I think it's Fannigore."

He shook his head. "Fantimore. You were close, though."

She looked up. For once, there had been no venom in his words, nor harshness in his expression. She smiled. "Fantimore. I suppose I must be from Fantimore."

He nodded. "It does seem the likely place."

"Let's see, what else? Oh yes, I have a locket my father gave me on my eighteenth birthday. I never take it off. I think I recall what he looks like, though not his name. He's got a rounder face, combed brown hair that's graying by the temples. Green eyes..." she thought, hard, trying to focus. "I'm afraid that's it. Though it is more than when I last awoke."

He nodded. "Anything about why you were in the river?"

Suddenly she felt cold all over. This was the one thing that bothered her most about not remembering. No sane person would jump into the River Holden in the dead of winter. "No," she whisperd, her voice shaking. "No, I don't remember."

"Work on that." he said. Again, there was no ice in his tone, or malice. "Until you remember more. King Granley has requested that you be guarded, both for your own saftey, and that of the royal family's. Understood?"

"Yes," she said. "Though I assure you, I am no threat to the King, or his family. I have no desire to hurt them, I can barely remember who they are."

"It doesn't matter," he started. "You're still an unknown, and unknowns are dangerous." then he turned on his heel and left.

Three

 Cera fell back on her pillows. She was an unknown? Samuel Braun considered her dangerous? She shook her head. How could she be dangerous when she hardley knew her name? She threw her arm over her head. There was no way she was going to accept that she'd forgotten everything about herself. What's my favorite color, she asked herself. The color of the sky right as the sun rises, that blue-gray as the world is bathed in new light. That was one thing she rememberd. What's my favorite flower? She had to think about that one. Blue dendrobium orchids, the one's Mother loved. She smiled as a familiar face popped into her head, then she frowned. Loved, she thought, past tense. Her frown deepend. She died, I remember now. Mother died when I was four. 

She rolled onto her side, no longer able to sleep, but not yet wanting to get out of bed. She rolled around restlessly, unsure of what to do about her new memories. They were few, and they were sad, but they were still more than she'd had earlier. Sighing, she dragged herself out of bed, bitterly cursing the cold stone floor. She walked into her dressing room, hoping to find something other than this thin nightgown to dress herself in. As it were, she found a few gowns that looked the right size neatly folded in a chest. She thanked the gods when she realized they were still modern, but cut so they didn't require a corset. Just the thought of one made her still-throbbing ribs ache.

She dressed quickly, then decided to venture out of her rooms. She knew it wasn't the wisest of decisions, but she would rather walk herself silly than stay alone in her rooms. As she entered the main chamber, she glanced at the sitting area in the middle of the room. The cream and rose colored chairs that faced the fireplace looked comfortable and warm, the little table between them as elegant as the doors. She glanced to her left, and noted the bookshelves filled to the brim with all sorts of works. She smiled. Books, she thought, I recall my love for books. To the right was a matching sofa, pressed against the wall with a painting of a rose garden centered above it. All the decor matched the name, which seemed rather tacky, but the way it all came together was not only fiting, but simple and elegant. Just like a rose, she smiled to herself.

As she pulled open the door to the hallway, she heard the shifting of the guards stationed outside. She groaned to herself. They considered her dangerous. A girl with no memory, and she was dangerous. Sighing, she stepped into the hallway, and was met by a scowling Captain Braun.

"I thought you wanted to rest." he said, his tone accusatory.

"That I did, but alas, my mind has changed." she retorted.

He growled something she didn't quite catch, but she chose to ignore it, and started down the hall. Already her ribs protested, and her battered body ached. She glanced over her shoulder, and noticed the Captain trailing a few steps behind her. "Captain," she called. "If you wish to survey me, you don't have follow behind me like a lovesick puppy." she taunted.

He let out a sharp sigh. "As it just so happens, I'm on my way to escort a visiting lady to an audience with the king and his son."

She laughed. "Oh what a lovely excuse." she shot him a playful look over her shoulder. "I never would have thought of it."

He lengthened his gait to cath up with her, and grabbed her elbow. "A lady as crass and all together tactless as you is not worth my time. The only reason you have my attention is because I don't trust you."

She