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“Aironell, they love you very much,” Quairken stood and moved toward her. He stopped and knelt down in front of her. “Things were chaotic when you were born.”
“It’s true,” Isabella added. “They did not want to lose you, but they knew that your upbringing was crucial.”
“The fate of Bachusa rests in your hands,” Quairken’s voice was low.
Aironell looked down at her hands. Her fingers were pinching the skin around her nails. Quairken reached out to lay his hands over top. She stopped fidgeting and looked into his eyes. She saw him clear as day. She could see that his eyes were a mess of guilt, sorrow, and sincerity. She sniffled.
“So, they do love me?” Her face felt pinched as she spoke.
“Of course, they do,” Isabella strolled toward Aironell. She knelt down at her side and placed an arm around her shoulders. “Your parents never would have done this if it wasn’t in your best interest. It was the recommended way to keep you free from physical harm.”
Aironell’s eyes glistened as she looked, slowly, to each of them. She took slow breaths to hold back the tidal wave of feelings inside. She didn’t want to appear unstable. “Then whose idea was it? Who thought I was better off without my parents?” Her voice rose.
“Alzerion.” Quairken cleared his throat as he stood up. “He convinced them that it would keep you safe. I know it is a lot and you probably don’t understand.”
She stood, completely still. Mouth falling open as her gaze fell flat and fixated on the picture of their so-called-family portrait. It hung above the couch. A memory that once made her feel happy. But now… no. She felt this numbness. It crept through her body until it hit her brain. A numbness that washed over her thoughts.
Then all that remained was a slight burning within. She couldn’t tell why, at first, but then she knew. “I don’t believe this!” Aironell bolted across the room and stood in front of that mockery of a family portrait.
Head sank as she twirled around and sat on the couch. “He only befriended me out of pity. He knew he ruined my life.” She saw feet moving toward her out of the corners of her eyes. Within seconds Isabella and Quairken both sat next to her.
“Alzerion wasn’t trying to ruin your life.” He patted her back. “He spent his whole life keeping you safe. He befriended you not out of pity or duty; but because he enjoyed being around you. If you need proof, it is in the necklace you wear. It came from him. It’s a special gift. It’s a family heirloom.”
“It’s all true,” Isabella’s voice was calm and soothing as she held Aironell’s hand.
Aironell nodded as she pondered all that they said. This Alzerion, maybe had her best interest at heart, too. “Wait, can we back it up a bit?”
“Of course.” Quairken responded. “What can we clear up?”
“I have so many questions and things running through my mind. I realized you said something before, about, me. I’m a princess?” Aironell scanned Quairken’s face for any hints or change of expression. He was solid like a wall that didn’t or wouldn’t yield. “Aironell, you heard correctly.”
Isabella gave her hands a light squeeze. Aironell nodded slowly, trying to take it all in. “We come from a beautiful magical place called Bachusa.” Isabella smiled and continued. “You’re the sole heir to the throne.”
Aironell’s jaw slowly gaped open. Wow, she mouthed but no words came out. She didn’t think they could stun her anymore.
“Aironell,” Quairken smiled. “We believe you will do a fine job in Bachusa. Isabella and I have raised you to possess all the traits you need.”
“I know this must be a lot for you to absorb.” Isabella gave her a sympathetic smile.
“Well, I guess you were right. I am different than most people.”
“Aironell, being different makes you special and unique. Your powers are part of who you are.”
Aironell nodded and then looked up glancing between them. “Why… now? What has changed that you are telling me all this, now?”
Quairken cleared his throat and clasped his hands together. “Well, um, we were instructed to wait until the time was right.”
“What makes this the right time, though?” Aironell watched him awaiting his response.
“We had to wait until you were of age. In Bachusa sixteen is that age of adulthood.” Quairken steadily exchanged glances with Aironell. She noticed that his gaze was soft.
“What?” Aironell blinked rapidly as she wiped around her lips.
“Now we can go home,” Isabella’s voice bubbled as she smiled, wide.
“Wait, by home you mean Bachusa?” She pointed her hands around. Realizing she had no clue where that was.
“Yes,” Quairken nodded. “We packed everything so you wouldn’t have to.”
