The Guardian King

Chapter Eight

~ Phoenix

With a final stroke of graphite across the sketch paper, I leaned back to observe my efforts of the past hour. The woman’s likeness stared mockingly up at me from the page, causing me to let out a sigh. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t manage to recreate her radiance on paper. Using the smallest eraser in my arsenal, I attempted to highlight the sparkle in her eyes. Better. But something was still missing. Giving up, I tossed the large pad to the side and it hit the floor with a soft slap.

*

I’d slept through the night for the first time in days and as always, my dreams were dominated by images of my angel. Though comfort came in knowing she was near, my soul remained restless. Drawing provided the most relief I could find, but it wasn’t enough anymore.

*

In the king’s suite, I stood from the dark-blue velvet armchair and reluctantly retrieved the sketch pad. After tucking my secret hobby away in the armoire, I turned the brass key in the lock with a satisfying click and walked away.

*

At half past six in the morning my limbs ached for exertion. If drawing could not grant me the peace of mind I craved, hopefully swimming would prove more useful. I moved towards the closet to fetch my swim attire, when a firm knock came from the entrance doors. Only one person disturbed me before eight o’clock, Ambrosia.

*

I opened the door and unsurprisingly found my grandmother’s personal butler. “Good morning, Your Majesty,” he said. “My apologies for the early hour.”

“That’s alright, Phillip. What does Ambrosia request of me?”

“Your presence.”

“Now?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Where is she?”

“The solarium. Can I bring you anything, sire?”

“Just my usual.”

“Of course. I will have your double espresso prepared presently.”

*

I retreated to the closet, and instead of donning my swimwear, changed into my typical garb; a black t-shirt and dark jeans. I left off my shoes, wearing only socks. A bad habit of mine, but I’d always preferred walking through the castle barefoot. Lucky for me, the king could be forgiven any odd behavior.

*

After running a comb through my unruly hair, making little difference, I left the suite. Ambrosia would nag me regardless and claim my hair to be long overdue for a cut. Not that it would sway me in the least. There was only one person I’d ever consider altering my appearance for, and her preferences remained to be seen.

*

In the solarium, morning sun filtered through the glass ceiling and highlighted the settee where my grandmother lounged. Bougainvillea blooms framed her silhouette, giving her an otherworldly appearance. She confidently wore her faded auburn hair in a long elegant braid; a youthful style, but she pulled it off beautifully. Ambrosia’s beauty seemed to only magnify with age. I didn’t know many who could match her in appearance or intelligence. All my life, my grandmother supported and encouraged me in every one of my endeavors. I often had a hard time believing she was my mother’s mother, seeing as they were different as night and day. She didn’t demand respect, but those around her gave it, nonetheless.

*

“Bonjour, Rosie,” I said, gaining her attention as I approached. I kissed her cheek, before sitting in the cushioned wicker chair opposite her. “Un peu tôt pour un discuter.” (A bit early for a chat.) Though Ambrosia could speak perfect English, she favored her first language.

***The following conversation is in French***

“It’s never too early to see my favorite grandchild,” she replied.

“Now what would Juliette think, if she heard you say such a thing?”

“She would know I speak the truth.”

“You are merely claiming so because I’m king.”

“Nonsense. You have been my favorite since you were a boy. Because, unlike your cousin, you follow the path God created for you, no matter the difficulty and despite what others say. If you had let that daughter of mine influence you, you never would have secured your reign.”

*

“Why did you request my presence so early, Rosie?” As I got the words out, Phillip appeared with my espresso. “Thank you, Phillip,” I said. He bowed, before promptly leaving the room. I inhaled the soothing aroma of French roast, prepared to my liking; scalding and robust. I glanced over the edge of my cup to find Ambrosia giving me a smile that went all the way to her caramel eyes.

*

“I’m relieved to see you’ve finally gotten some rest,” she said.

“How did you know?”

“You only drink espresso after you have slept. You don’t like caffeine interfering with your endurance.”

“It’s eerie how much you observe,” I told her, returning her affectionate gaze.

*

My grandfather, Leon, had lived just long enough to witness my ascension to the throne. After he passed, I insisted Ambrosia move into the castle. She had her own suite at the opposite end from mine, therefore, we didn’t see each other any more or less often than we wished.

*

“Now, what is this I hear about you hosting the companion’s ball?” Ambrosia demanded to know. “I thought we discussed this after that harpy made a fool of you. God has given you a very clear message, one you swore to me you’d recommitted to.”

“Only you ever believed what I witnessed as a child was in fact a message from God.”

“That never discouraged you before. Why are you, yet again, turning your back on your destined companion?”

“I’m not.”

“I do not understand. The public is going to expect you to make a selection by the end of the ball. Is it all a farce?”

“Not at all. I will be choosing a companion.”

“Phoenix, explain yourself.”

“Who’s to say my selection won’t coincide with God’s greater plan?”

*

After a brief moment, Ambrosia’s expression morphed into satisfaction. She gave me a knowing smile as she stated, “You’ve found her.”

“I have.”

“Oh, bijou, I am delighted for you! After all these years, you finally have confirmation of what you’ve always known.” I finished my espresso, unable to hide my smile.

*

Ambrosia reached for her teacup and expressed, “I cannot wait to meet her.”

“Well, you’ll have to,” I replied. “I need to address this situation delicately.”

“I’m insulted. When have I ever been anything but delicate?”

“You know what I mean, Rosie.”

“I will follow your lead, Phoenix. I promise. Whatever you require, you only need ask of me.”

“Actually… there’s a high probability Maman will not approve of her. I may need you to run interference.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“Nice try, Rosie. I’m not giving you any hints about her identity. You’ll have to wait until Saturday.”

*

After a brief pause, she pursed her lips and said, “I’ve changed my mind. Juliette is my favorite grandchild.” I laughed softly and replied, “As she should be. I am far too difficult to be anyone’s favorite.” She reached across the coffee table, holding out her hands to me. I set down my cup and slid my hands into hers. She smiled and said, “You will forever be my favorite king.” I returned her smile with a rare one of my own and replied, “I know.”

*****

~ Ember

My internal clock woke me minutes before seven as always. The birds that built their nest under the eaves sang cheerfully as I got out of bed and dressed for my morning walk. Downstairs, I found Aunt Beth in the kitchen reading a newspaper at the breakfast table.

*

As soon as my aunt looked up from what appeared to be called, Pages of the King’s Realm, I said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she returned. “Are you going out for a walk again this morning?”

“Yup. Most people wake up with their first cup of coffee. I wake up after my first breath of fresh air.”

“In that case, I’ll wait a bit before putting the cinnamon rolls in the oven. That way they’ll be hot and fresh by the time you return. I’ve never seen anyone with a sweet tooth as big as yours.”

“Maybe if your baking wasn’t so scrumptious I could kick the habit.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

*

I walked through the back door, inhaling the invigorating scent of dew covered grass and crisp mountain air. I followed the cobblestone path that led though the wrought-iron gate and out of the garden. On the public sidewalk, I made my way north, where the neighborhood walking trail conveniently began.

*

As I enjoyed my typical route, I soaked up Middlebrook’s peaceful charm. Since discovering my true home, putting down roots didn’t seem like such a daunting task. However, with every passing day I lived in limbo, my apprehension over the future grew. I couldn’t see my path clearly past the uncertainty surrounding my newfound abilities. But Gemma assured me the king would make a decision about my training as soon as possible.

*

When I returned to the house, I found the garbage pilled up by the backdoor. Eager to earn my keep, I transported the bags to the end of the road. Upon setting foot into the kitchen, the mouthwatering aroma of Beth’s pastries, baking in the oven, washed over me. I quickly made my way up the stairs and into my room to make myself presentable for the day.

*

Freshly washed and changed into a blue floral sundress, I returned to the kitchen just in time to see Aunt Beth plating her tasty creations. I went to the cabinet, withdrew a mug and proceeded to pour myself a cup of coffee. With a cinnamon roll in front of me, I sat down at the breakfast table as Isaac entered through the back door.

*

“Morning,” he bid me. I returned the same sentiment, before he turned to his wife and said, “Beth, hon, you’re losing it. I looked all over the back porch. There are no bags in sight.”

“Oh, I moved those to the curb already,” I said, biting into the warm soft pastry, oozing icing down my fingers. “Thanks, Ember,” Isaac responded happily as he helped himself to a muffin and sat on a barstool at the kitchen island.

*

“That was very thoughtful, Ember,” Aunt Beth said. “But you needn’t’ve have done that.”

“I’m want to carry my weight around here,” I replied.

“That’s not necessary-”

“Aunt Beth, I don’t want to feel like a burden. Please let me help out wherever I can.”

“Very well, if it makes you happy.”

“It does.”

“Although, I think the stunning floral arrangements you put in the foyer and the dining room are more than enough contribution.”

“That’s only a fun hobby. And you have so many beautiful flowers in your garden, I’m not really doing much.”

“It’s beneficial to the inn.”

“I want to do more.”

“Alright,” she said, throwing up her hands in surrender.

*

A chime came from the direction of the office. I hardly took notice of the clock-like sound, until Isaac said, “Oh, portal post.” I swallowed a half-chewed bite and replied, “What the heck is portal post?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like, silly,” Aunt Beth answered as Isaac left the room.

“You mean you get your mail through a portal?”

“Guardians have to receive correspondence somehow, apart from the human way.”

“How does it work?” I asked with intrigue.”

“Every guardian city has portal office. Those who work there have the ability to create portals and are responsible for delivering post to the correct boxes. Ours is in the office. It’s a wooden box, about the size of a toaster oven, and the inside consists of mirrored glass.”

“What’s the significance of the glass?”

“It’s the conduit in which portals are generated. Portalists can transform any mirror into a portal.”

“Fascinating.”

*

Isaac returned with a large cream colored envelope. I looked at him in confusion when he passed it to me, saying, “It’s for you.” My curiosity peaked as I accepted the envelope and Isaac returned to his perch on the barstool. I stared at the object in my hands, reading my name handwritten in elegant cursive across the front:

Ms. Ember Ellison

Middlebrook, CO

PB# 78067

*

“It looks like an invitation,” Aunt Beth said as she moved to sit across from me at the table.

“An invitation?” I responded questioningly. “Who would be sending me an invitation to anything guardian related? Nobody knows me.”

“Maybe not, but they all want to,” Isaac told me while plucking a grape out of the fruit bowl. “Word spreads fast in the guardian community, and an unknown is the hottest piece of news in a long time.”

“I don’t want to be the center of attention,” I said.

“If you want my advice, embrace it.”

“I don’t think I know how.”

“What are you waiting for?” Aunt Beth said impatiently. “Open it!”

*

I gingerly peeled open the stiff envelope and admired the expensive paper as I withdrew a midnight-blue card with silver calligraphy. Aunt Beth had been right, it was an invitation. I read the message aloud, “His Majesty, King Phoenix Rainier, requests the honor of your presence, this Saturday, in celebration of The Companion’s Ball.”

“Oh my,” Isaac said. I looked up to see Aunt Beth rendered speechless. “What is the companion’s ball?” I asked.

*

When Aunt Beth finally recovered from astonishment, she replied, “This Saturday?! I can’t believe Gemma never mentioned the king planned to bring back the tradition. He hasn’t hosted in the entire ten years he’s been king.”

“But what is it?” I asked once again.

“The companion’s ball is a time honored tradition celebrating the role of royal companion,” Aunt Beth answered. “It’s a very lavish party. And if the current king happens to be unattached-”

“Which King Phoenix is,” Isaac interjected, before she continued. “Then he will chose a companion amongst the available ladies at the end of the night.”

“What if the lady does not want to be chosen?”

“She can decline, if that’s what you’re asking. But truthfully, every single female guardian would kill for the opportunity. No one in their right mind declines. It’s an incredible honor. Even if the relationship doesn’t last long, the position grants the lady quite a lot of respect and admiration in our community.”

“Just for being his girlfriend?”

“Companions are seen as the king’s closest confidants. It’s a highly coveted position.”

“So why hasn’t King Phoenix hosted the ball since he he’s been king?” I asked the obvious question.

“Nobody really knows. At the beginning of his reign, he announced he had no desire to have a companion. And if Gemma knows, she hasn’t shared the information with me.”

*

I mulled over the new information as I polished off the contents of my mug. I had a difficult time comprehending the idea of attending a fancy party, only to finish the evening suddenly in a relationship with a complete stranger. Especially if that stranger happened to be the king.

*

“I don’t see the appeal of being appointed to be someone’s girlfriend,” I voiced. Aunt Beth observed my expression, before she said, “But you are going, aren’t you?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted.

“It’s quite the swanky affair,” Isaac said, “I think you would have nothing less than a marvelous time.”

“But I don’t know anyone.”

“Ember, that’s exactly why you have to go,” Aunt Beth argued.

“I don’t follow.”

“The ball is an excellent opportunity to immerse yourself in our culture and society. It would also show your interest in, and dedication to, our way of life. You’d make a good impression if you went.”

“And that matters?” I asked, not to be argumentative, but out of sheer interest. My push back must’ve upset Aunt Beth, because she suddenly stood and left the kitchen.

*

“What she’s saying is,” Isaac clarified, “attending the ball would go a long way towards proving you are not dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” I repeated in question. “So, Gemma wasn’t exaggerating when she said there are guardians who view unknowns as potential threats?”

“Unfortunately, no, she was not exaggerating. People, humans and guardians alike, fear what they do not know. You should accept the king’s invitation, so our fellow guardians have the chance to get to know you.”

*

“I’ve never been to a ball before,” I replied. The guardian community weren’t the only ones afraid of the unknown. The idea of attending a royal event I knew nothing about terrified me to my core. I’d adapted to being a wallflower, now suddenly I was expected to be a centerpiece.

*

Aunt Beth reappeared moments later. After she refilled her coffee, she returned to her seat at the table. Setting her phone and her mug to the side, she looked at me calmly said, “Sweetheart, it would be incredibly rude not to accept a formal invitation from the king. Do you really want your first impression on the guardian king to be one of rejection?” I looked down at the card still in my hand and bit my bottom lip, before I replied, “Well, when you put it like that…”

*

Before I could say anything further, Gemma charged into the kitchen. “Gemma?” I said in surprise. With an irritation in her voice, clearly directed at me, she said, “What’s this I hear about the possibility of you skipping the companion’s ball?” My head snapped towards Aunt Beth. “You texted her?” I asked, making the connection to why she’d left the room and reappeared with her phone.

“I’m hoping she can convince you to see sense,” Aunt Beth said in defense.

“How am I supposed to trust you two if you gang up on me?”

“You are supposed to trust that when it comes to the guardian world, we know better,” Gemma answered.

“That may be true, but I deserve the opportunity to make my own decisions.”

“Not when it’s this important. Come with me.”

“Is that a command from the royal court?” I asked, my frustration threatened to choke me. I hadn’t been treated so childishly since I was sixteen. “If it needs to be,” she answered.

*

I stewed in aggravation as I followed Gemma to the office. Inside, I found Phyneas, sitting casually on the edge of Isaac’s desk. “You too, Phyn?” I asked with disappointment.

“Under protest,” he responded. “Gemma uses me for my ability.” He looked to her and added, “I told you she wouldn’t appreciate you bossing her around.” I relaxed a little knowing I had someone in my corner. “Thank you, Phyn.”

*

“I’m sorry, Ember.” Gemma said sincerely. “I’ll explain better when we get to Jasmine’s.”

“How come you never apologize to me?” Phyneas wanted to know.

“Because there has never been a cause,” she replied smugly. “Now, shut up and open the portal.”

“Yes ma’am,” he muttered in concession.

“So, she bosses you around too?” I whispered to Phyneas as he hopped off the desk.

“Every chance she gets.”

“I heard that,” Gemma stated.

“You were meant to.”

*

Phyneas tapped the glass of the floor length mirror and I watched in awe as the once solid surface began to ripple. “Ladies first,” Phyneas said, gesturing for Gemma to enter the portal. “Hold my hand, Ember,” she said. “You don’t know where we’re going.” I did as she told me, being too excited to offer any argument. Gemma stepped forward with confidence as though it were the easiest thing in the world. I took her lead, swallowed my nerves, and let her pull me through the portal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~