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Wanderlove Part 28

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"Yes, well, let there be no doubt in your mind that should I have needed to, I would have very easily coerced you into coming with me, whether you liked it or not."

I eyed Gabe now, noticing that both of his hands, which lied across the table, were balled into tight fists. He was holding back from this conversation, though it was clearly taking a lot of effort for him to stay out of it.

The prince continued speaking monotonously. "And anyway, I'm much more pleased to tell you that I've not come here to coerce you into doing anything you don't want to do, especially considering your recent tribulations. However, I believe once you hear my proposal, you'll come very willingly."

I nearly coughed in my orange juice after he'd said the last part. "I highly doubt that, your highness, but please go ahead and humor me with this proposal."

"It's simple, really. You come with us and in return. . .we'll extricate your father from his incarceration."



I almost stopped breathing. "He's still in prison?" I asked, shocked.

"Yes, and that's where he'll remain for ten more years. Grand theft auto is no petty crime, you know. But if you agree to my proposal, I'm positive we can work something out."

I didn't understand. Zetta told me my father's lackeys would break him out of jail. Why hadn't they done so by now? She said he wouldn't be in there for very long!

The guilt that had been eating me away for months rapidly came to a forefront. Distraught, I tried to remember exactly what Zetta had said to me that night by the shower. I remember she told me my father would find a way out of jail. . .but she never specifically said how or by whom.

"My G.o.d," I breathed. "It was me this whole time."

"Pardon?" the prince asked.

I couldn't believe it! All this time, I was the one who would help my father escape prison. It hadn't been because Luca or his other lackeys would come to his rescue- it would be my doing.

And I would agree to it.

The thought bewildered me. I would agree in order to put an end to the guilt that had been gnawing at me.

"How long would I be away for?" I asked.

Prince Tiberius smiled, knowing he had won.

Gabe slammed his fist down on the table, causing all the dishes to rattle. He stood up from his seat. "This is ridiculous, Lo! You can't possibly be serious right now."

"Please stay out of this, Gabe," I pleaded. "It's my father."

"I know very well who your father is, Lo. If you ask me, he deserves five lifetimes in prison for all the h.e.l.l he's put you through!"

I stood so I could become eye level with Gabe. I was suddenly very aware of what I needed to do.

Steadily, I said, "Thank you for coming to my rescue last night, Gabe. I will be forever grateful to you. However, it changes nothing. I still want you to marry Annika and I still want to keep my memories intact. There's no way for me to do that in a life where you and I are together."

Gabe shook his head. The fury was sparkling like diamonds in his gray eyes. "There is a way. But you're too much of a coward to try it."

He stormed out of the room in a fit of rage. We all heard a growl resonate from the corridor and the sound of Gabe's fist slamming against the wall. I flinched as the booming sound echoed throughout the house.

Afterwards, Prince Tiberius was the first to speak. "Well, now that that's settled, I think we should be on our way." He smiled happily, like a kid with a candy bar.

I felt the urge to slap him. I wanted to take out all my frustrations in one strong hit. Thankfully, I managed to contain myself.

THIRTY-FOUR.

We flew to Romania on the prince's private jet. I wasn't surprised by the calming effect the flight had on me. Everyone on the plane was quiet, serene and peaceful. The act of travel was almost like a sedative for our restless souls.

I was going somewhere again. That feeling was amazing. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it over the last few months. And admittedly, I was a little excited to visit Romania. I hadn't visited the country since I was a little girl. My father had never been one to pay tribute to our gathering grounds very often. Booking gigs was our first priority, whether they were the savory or unsavory sorts of gigs. We were always chasing money and it didn't matter which currency it happened to be in.

After a twelve hour flight, we landed on a runway in Bucharest. This was where the prince stored his jet. I had been informed by one of Tiberius's a.s.sistants that we were not allowed to fly directly into Redwood Forest. Apparently, it was against the Rom laws. The forest must always be kept under wraps. In a way, the place was held sacred by all gypsies. It was rumored that the forest sat on one of the strongest magnetic lines in the world. Many gypsies believed those lines had brought about our very existence.

As the wide, tree-lined boulevards and towering Belle epoque buildings came into view, a sort of nostalgia enveloped me. The city itself appeared much bleaker than it had in its hay day. The locals, also, were not exactly the warm and friendly type. Several images popped up in my mind of a vibrant, romantic version of the streets and buildings which surrounded me, proving to me that this place hadn't always been as it was now. . .

From the departure of the plane, we entered a black SUV. I sat in the back next to the window so I could watch the scenery pa.s.s by. I hadn't spoken much to the prince or any of his crew since I'd stepped on his plane. Then again, I didn't really like the prince, nor did I care to converse with him or the people a.s.sociated with him.

It took us another hour to drive from the city and through the countryside, to reach the outskirts of the forest. Once we were there, we followed a lone path hidden from off the side of the highway.

Another half an hour went by before I heard someone announce, "We're here."

I looked up, but I didn't see anything but more forest ahead of us. We circled around a giant redwood tree. And then we circled around it again.

"Do you people realize we're traveling in circles?" I asked aloud, but no one paid me any attention.

We circled the tree once more before something amazing happened. The camp suddenly came into view. My jaw dropped in shock. "Hey that wasn't there before--" I started to say, then realized there was still no one listening.

My shock was shortly overcome, anyway, as my attention was caught by the beauty of the camp in Redwood Forest. It was even lovelier than I remembered, almost like a landscape out of a Thomas Kinkade portrait.

A small river ran across the mountainous land, which dropped off by a miniature waterfall into a pond of water. Several people swam in the pond, which was curious activity considering it was nearing December. No snow covered the ground, but those people still had to be freezing. There was a chill in the air. And yet they seemed to be swimming leisurely. Curiously, I wondered if the water descended from a hot spring.

Surrounding the river, hundreds of tents in all shapes, sizes and colors lined up against the bank. Alongside the endless array of tents, there were hundreds more parked RVs. Finally, a charming stone castle with wooden turrets sat in the background of the camp. I heard Prince Tiberius sigh with pleasure upon sight of it. "Castelul de Prieteni. She is beautiful, no?" His question was meant for me, but I didn't bother to answer him.

However, the castle was very beautiful. When any of the Royals were visiting Redwood Forest, they would reside there. It wasn't huge; there were only two stories. Also, there was no moat, drawbridge or anything else castle-like. But the grandeur it was built in was simply wondrous; its beauty took my breath away.

Intricate carvings inlay on the stone in the front walls. Over the years, gypsies had carved their artwork into that stone, detailing centuries of beautiful designs and stories. And in the middle of the castle, a huge window ran from the rooftop down to the bottom of the second story, which was entirely created with stained gla.s.s. A picture formed within the gla.s.s of a bright orange sun, surrounded by several little yellow stars. The detail was incredible. Seeing the intricacies and beauty of it overwhelmed me with pride for my people.

We headed to the castle now. Though I knew I shouldn't be antic.i.p.ating my summoning, I was looking forward to taking a tour. I couldn't remember ever having stepped a foot inside of the castle before, at least not in this lifetime, anyway.

As we slowly drove on the pathway through the tents, I noticed there seemed to be a small marketplace set up directly in front of the entrance to the castle. There were several people hawking their wares in this area, selling everything from spices to clothing and jewelry. There were also several food vendors. One man in particular caught my eye. He was grilling authentic Greek gyros, which looked delicious. I definitely wanted to visit that man while I was here.

I also noticed several palm readers and psychics lined up in various tents and booths. Even amongst their own people, the tradition was happily welcomed. The same went for entertainment. Not far from the market, I noticed a young boy standing on a small platform. He was doing fire-breathing tricks for a crowd of onlookers. I really wanted to watch him, but the SUV pa.s.sed by too quickly.

We eventually pulled into a garage of sorts. It was separate from the castle, but I supposed it had been built more recently. From there, we walked along a pathway leading to the castle doors. While we were making our way inside, Prince Tiberius proceeded to abandon me without any kind of explanation. All he said was, "The guard will show you to your room."

I tried shouting at him as he walked away, but he didn't even bother looking back.

Turning to the guard he'd left me with, I asked, "When I am supposed to be summoned?"

"The residing queen will send for you."

I bit my lip anxiously. Since there was nothing I could do but wait, I merely nodded and let the guard lead the way.

Once I had the chance to observe my surroundings, I was rather amazed. The huge stonewalls towered around me, but it didn't feel like I was on the inside of anywhere. It was almost as if the designers managed to bring the outside to the inside of the castle walls. There were potted plants everywhere I looked. Parts of the flooring had been carved out to create a shrubbery, which lined the main hall's background.

Another thing I noticed was there was no furniture- anywhere. However, I did see several giant, overstuffed pillows spread about on intricately woven Persian rugs. I presumed people used the pillows to sit on, like chairs. It was the same type of seating you would find in a gypsy tent. I wondered why no one had ever incorporated tables and chairs. It was a castle, after all.

The guard led me through two separate corridors and upstairs to the second floor, which was extremely light and airy. Plants were spread everywhere on this floor, also, but because the windows ran from the floor to the ceiling, and they had been left open, it felt like one big balcony. Cool, winter breezes flowed through the air, ventilating the entire floor.

I was led into the west wing, to one of the furthest bedrooms along the hall. The guard pulled out a giant, bra.s.s key from a ring on his belt, and then inserted it into the lock on the door. It clicked and he pushed the door in, holding it open for me. I walked inside and looked around my temporary home.

It was a standard bedroom, I supposed. Not very large, not very small. There was one window and one closet. The only thing different about the room was there was no bed present. There was just a single bedroll in the corner of the room, with giant pillows propped up around it. I could handle the lack of the bed, though. Sleeping on the ground was more familiar to me, anyway.

I turned back to the guard just as he was handing me the key.

"There will be a guard posted at the entrance to the west wing at all times to ensure the safety of all who reside here, including yourself. Should you need anything, or if you come in contact with any trouble, you need only to shout and we will quickly come to your aid."

I nodded to let him know I understood. "Thanks," I acknowledged him dimly.

"The washroom is at the end of the hall."

"Okay," I said, and then asked, "Hey wait-- so when is this queen going to send for me?"

"When she is ready."

His answer wasn't exactly as specific as I'd hoped for, but it was all I had to go by. I dropped my bag on the ground gloomily. The guard disappeared, shutting the door behind him. I suddenly felt very, very alone.

I supposed I should unpack, but I didn't bring that many things with me to begin with. Plus, I figured unpacking would only make me feel a sense of permanence. Since I was against the idea, I decided I wouldn't make it worse for myself. In the end, I chose to stuff my bag in the room's one small closet.

Not knowing what else to do, I decided to open the bedroom door. I peeked around the corner. Sure enough, a guard stood there, posted by the entrance to the west wing.

I sighed despondently and closed the door. I guess I am stuck here for now, I thought to myself.

I suddenly yawned, tired. A bout of jet lag flooded over my body and so I decided to take a nap. Surprisingly, I realized I hadn't slept a wink on the plane. I guess I'd been too excited to be traveling again.

I laid down on the bedroll carefully, testing it out. It was very foam-like, but it seemed comfy enough. I stretched, sinking into the material. As soon as my head touched the pillow, I fell into a deep slumber.

THIRTY-FIVE.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been sleeping for, but later on that night, I awoke to the sound of someone knocking on my door. It was one of the guards, this time a different one. I guess they'd already switched s.h.i.+fts.

"Miss Moori, the Queen has requested you come to the great hall to receive your summoning."

"What time is it?" I asked groggily.

The guard glanced down at his watch. "It is six p.m., local time," he answered.

"Okay, but I need a few minutes to get ready."

He nodded and waited outside my door.

I quickly tore off my clothes since I had been traveling all day in the same outfit. I changed into a long, cotton skirt with a short-sleeved white blouse. I chose not to wear my bracelets today. My wrists were too tender from Gorge's rope cutting into my skin. Instead, I settled on the one pair of gold earrings I had brought with me. Afterwards, I ran a comb through my hair and brushed my teeth, hoping I was presentable enough for whomever the residing queen happened to be.

As the guard led me to the great hall, I asked him if he knew which queen I was being summoned to.

"Bonjara," was his short answer.

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. The Bonjaras were my least favorite of the Royal families. However, that particular family happened to be the most powerful of the Royals. Their lineage traced back to ancient India. The family had formed a band of travelers during those times, long before the first gypsies were ever heard of. But I never liked the Bonjaras- not any of them. I felt like they were a pack of power-hungry wolves. They were known for being very wise, but they were also far too serious most of the time. Rarely would you ever catch a Bonjara smiling.

So it was unfortunate for me that the only queen in residence happened to be from this particular family. And she was just as I expected: a serious, no-nonsense sort of woman who never smiled and basically lacked all enthusiasm for life. Her hair was long and as black as a raven's feathers, with an almost bluish quality to it. Her eyes were like little black coals, with a heavy liner of kohl drawn on her lids. The only thing that saved her from looking exactly like Morticia from the Adam's Family was her olive complexion.

"My name is Esmeralda," she informed me as soon as I took a seat on the overstuffed pillow across from her.

"I am well aware of who you are, your highness."

The queen nodded. I am sure she expected her name to be well-known throughout the gypsy tribes.

"I heard about your recent encounter with the rogue gypsies. Your face looks quite devastating. I am sorry you endured this."

"Thank you," I said.

"Have you found your room accommodating?" she asked politely.

"It's nice."

"That's good to hear. Especially since you'll be living with us now."

I flinched. "So um...yeah. I kinda wanted to talk to you about that. Exactly how long do you need me to stay? I was never given a specific timeframe."

Startled by my question, she answered matter-of-factly, "Why indefinitely, of course."

My lips parted as the confusion settled in. "Excuse me?" I asked. I was taken aback by her absolute answer, which she had imparted without even a speck of hesitation.

"You will live here from now on. Or at least until you remember where the oracle is. Unless we are a.s.sured the oracle is in safe hands, you will be considered a threat to not only gypsies, but mankind, itself. You haven't yet remembered where it is, correct?"

"No, I haven't remembered," I answered tightly.

"Then you will stay here with us until you do."

I was suddenly very, very annoyed by this woman. I was bothered not only by the fact that she was telling me that my entire life would be spent in this castle under lock and key, but I was even more irritated by the fact that she told me without an ounce of emotion. I felt like I was in the middle of a business transaction.

"Okay, I think there's been a misunderstanding," I told her as nicely as I could. "I only agreed to come here. Not to stay here forever."

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