Royalty

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Chapter 5

I’m woken up to the intoxicating smell of sweet vanilla and tantalising cinnamon. I can feel as the vanilla drifts into my nostrils and down my throat into the depths of my stomach. The divine scent is like candy and I breathe in deeper to trap the heavenly aroma in my lungs. It warms my belly, making me feel completely and utterly relaxed in the bed I lay in. The cinnamon travels slowly to the back of my nose. The spice sending small waves of tingles pulsing down my nostrils, the smell lingering in the back of my throat. I breathe in even more, the fusion of fragrances quite appeasing.

I slowly open my eyes, finding a luxurious bedroom. It seems as though the sun has just begun to set as there is a beautiful orange hue that engulfs every single visible corner in the room.

I lay on a four poster bed, the frame circumscribed in rich gold paint. Graceful patterns of pretty bluebells rest in the lavish golden paint and so do intricately carved leaves, each vein detailed to exact perfection.

I sit up in the bed, pushing the plush white covers-that seem like clouds on earth- off me. Where the hell am I?

On either side of the bed are two cream-coloured chest of draws with golden handles that glisten under the light. The walls are painted a plain cream, a balance to the lavish items that litter the room. A crystal chandelier hangs delicately by a silver wire in the centre of a polished, sheeny, ceiling that twinkles under the sunlight, like a thousand stars in the night sky. A vast window is on my left, draped in long, burgundy curtains, giving a sense of regal-ness and elegance to the room.

Across the bed is an untouched 70 inch T.V. The plain, black surface unnerves me. It feels as though someone is watching me intensely through the screen. I shiver and instead turn my attention to two vases that hold two beautiful bouquets of pink roses but it is not the flowers that I I focus on. It is the vases. Small drawings of people turning into the some type of wild creature catch my eye. My eyebrows furrow. The little pictures spark a small fire in my mind, evoking lost, fuzzy memories. I shake my head, I’m overthinking things.

I feel oddly calm, even though I’m in a completely foreign environment that I can’t remember why I’m in it. I sprawl myself out on the bed, snuggling into the sheets as if I were in my own bed. Why was I here? The answer is on the tip of my tongue but I just can’t seem to force it out. It feels like all my emotions have been put behind an invisible wall, I can feel them brewing and sizzling, like magma in a volcano just about ready to explode.

I get up off the bed, my feet coming in contact with a plush white carpet. I wriggle my toes, enjoying the small,tickling feeling of the soft material on my skin. I stand there for a good five minutes, wriggling my toes in the carpet and giggling before I hear someone clear their throat.

I stop and turn towards the door, where the person stands and say the first thing I think makes me look sane.“I’m not weird.”

The blonde haired guy smiles at me. His ocean blue eyes seem to disagree with my previous statement but he disregards the subject and instead says

“Rolan wants to talk to you.”

Rolan. Why does his name leave a sour taste in my mouth.

“And who are you?” I ask.

“I’m Jake, one of his friends.” He replies.

“And why couldn’t he come get me himself.” I question. Jake shrugs his shoulders and mumbles a quick ‘I don’t know.’

“If you come with me, you can ask him yourself.” He suggests, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on the door frame. “Oh and your friend Carma’s here aswell.” He adds. Like a reflex, I start towards the door. For some reason the mention of Carma’s name has my body feeling anxious.

“Follow me.” Jake says, walking out the door.

As we walk down a brightly lit corridor, with more fluffy carpet(red this time), I can’t help but eye Jake. He has golden coloured hair that is in beautiful disarray on top of his head and it seems to sparkle under the light. His olive-coloured skin looks silky-smooth and soft to the touch. He wears a tight white t-shirt that barely contains his muscly arms and chest, and a pair of denim jeans with some black vans on his feet. In other words, he is hot. Insanely hot. Any girl or guy would be happy to have him.

I am escorted by Jake to a big living room area. The room is plainly decorated with only simple white walls and a couple couches. On one of the couches sits Rolan, he wears a tight black shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a black leather jacket and black combat boots. I’m guessing he really likes black. He runs a calloused hand through the tousled strands of his hair and stares at me with intense brown eyes. I advert my eyes from his gaze and instead focus on the couch that holds Carma’s small form. I run to her and wrap my arms around her body, feeling all anxiousness in my body dissipate. She hugs me back, her big, round glasses going slightly lopsided.

I have never felt so relieved and confused in my life. Why am I so relieved? I can feel my infurition rising somewhere deep inside of me but I can’t react. I feel so relaxed.

I turn to Rolan, still holding on to Carma like she’s going to be taken from me right under my nose, and say “What have you done to me?” I meant it to come out demanding and strong however, instead, it comes out calm and passive.

“Hmm.” A guy says, who stands in the far corner of the room. “She’s smarter than I thought she’d be.” I glare at him. I don’t like him or his very neat and tidy, well-ironed, studious clothes. He wears black dress pants, a crisp, white dress shirt with a perfectly straight tie, underneath a pristine vest jumper. No ketchup stain at all...Impressive. On his face, he wears a pair of big, black geek glasses over bright icy blue eyes, that rest lightly on the bridge of his nose. His obsidian coloured hair is gelled down flat against his his head, parted neatly on the side.

“And what’s that supposed to mean.” I ask, turning towards the rude imbecile.

“I mean you, you seem quite dumb. And my name is Colton, thanks for asking.” He says sarcastically.

“I didn’t.” I retort, turning back towards Rolan, “So are you going to tell me what’s going on here?”

“Okay, first things first. I have no intention of hurting you. None of us do.” Rolan starts, making me even more confused.

“What the hell are you on about?” I ask.

“We did what we did because we needed you calm.”

“Needed me calm, what the...” Rolan waves his hand dismissively and continues.

“Yes, we needed you calm because last time you fainted.”

“Last time?” I turn to Carma but she just shrugs.

Rolan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “You can both smell the Vanilla and cinnamon in the air, right?” Both me and Carma nod.

“Well that’s what’s making you feel so calm and relaxed. We used a spell. It’s just so you can process all the information we’re gonna give you.” Rolan says.

“Your talking sh!t Rolan. Absolute sh!t.” I state, shaking my head in disbelief. A spell, what does this guy think I’m on? Acid? Cocaine? Maybe he’s the one on drugs?

“Look you think I’m talking shit because you can’t remember any of this!” He exclaims.

I chuckle. “Humour me then Rolan. Why can’t I remember?” This is hilarious.

“Because I took your memories.” He replies.

“And how did you take my memories.” I ask. The poor boys gone insane.

“It’s because I’m a supernatural.. we all are.” I turn to Carma and we stare at each other for a good second before we burst out laughing. Clutching our stomach, as our abdominal muscles begin to ache.

“You don’t believe me. Okay then, you asked for it.” Rolan places his hand onto both Carma and my shoulder. Floods of images emerge in my mind and both Carma and I inhale a sharp breath.

I blink a couple times, trying to figure out what just happened, before the overwhelming feeling of anger and fury courses through my limbs.

“Mae? Mae? You ok?” Rolan asks, looking at me sceptically. I turn my head towards him, my whole body beginning to shake with brittle anger.

“Mae?”

“YOU ASSHOLE!” I shout, lunging at Rolan, who now wears a terrified expression on his face and is in a defensive stance.

Oh he is so fucking dead!

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