A/N: This is a slighty (VERY slightly) re-worked version which you can thank 2amlovesick for. My little muse, she is. See if you can spot the change!
Let me know what you think!
Chapter Two
EPOV – Age thirteen
"Andorra, my love, we can't keep risking our lives like this. Come away with me."
"Taos, you know that I cannot. What would become of my sisters?"
"It is not your sisters that I desire, it is you."
"I know that, my heart, but I cannot leave them to the council's mercy."
"We would not be gone forever, my love. We would marry and then return."
"Taos, your throne? You are the next Pharaoh."
"I do not want it. I only want you, Andorra. Please tell me that I can have you?"
"I am yours always, Taos, but you have a duty towards your father and country that you cannot deny. You have a destiny which leads to that throne and you must fulfil it."
All of a sudden there were loud shouts and the stamping of large feet running towards us. Our time had grown short now. I would have to leave my princess once again. I pulled her in for a quick kiss and then released her. I made my way over to the edge of her balcony and swung my legs over.
"Until tomorrow night, my love." I blew her a kiss and then jumped down to the ground below.
I ran through the shadows until I reached the entry archway. I turned back briefly and saw my princess stood at her balcony watching me go. I lifted my hand and waved at her. Just as she started to wave back, her father's guards broke through the curtains separating the balcony from her room. I watched in horror as they dragged her away from the balcony edge and brought her to stand before her father. There was another figure beside him; a feminine figure. I couldn't make out who it was but her straight backed stance belied her majestic birth.
Her father stood regally and questioned her. I could see her crying and shaking her head and though I could not hear what they were talking about, I knew it was not good. I stood frozen as her father lifted his sword and brought it down-
I sat bolt upright in my bed, panting. This dream was new. I had never had this one before. This was also the first time I had seen the face of my princess. She was beyond beautiful. Long wavy mahogany hair that reached down to her waist, a heart shaped face with caramel coloured eyes that were big and almond shaped. Her skin was flawless, smooth and creamy. I even remembered how she felt in my arms; so soft and warm and so right. She fit there perfectly. The feeling was so real that I could have sworn she actually was in my bed with me.
I internally scoffed at myself and climbed out of my bed and walked to my desk. Pulling out the chair I sat down and unlocked my top drawer. This was where I kept my diary. I have kept a diary ever since I was eight years old. That was when these dreams started. I kept an account of each dream and always read back over them to try and decipher them. Granted, at eight, I had spent less time on the details and more on the general mention. As I grew older, my detailing became more. I described every single thing. The hair, the clothing, the feelings; everything.
For the last five years the dream has always been the same with very little changing. I would always be meeting my princess in the dead of the night and we would always have this same conversation. Though tonight, the detail was more and the conversation was more, the end was even newer. As a child I had worried as to why I dreamt of princes and princesses, but in the last year or so (ever since girls had become an object of interest, I might add!) my worrying had shifted more to the 'why this dream in a particular?' Tonight's dream shook me. The end was new, I had never seen this before and what was worse was the sight of that sword. Somehow I knew what it meant. My princess had been killed and that thought tore through me, sending waves of pain through my heart. I gasped and clutched at my chest, doubling over my desk.
It was several minutes before the pain subsided, but by then I had cried a river of tears and felt a little ashamed at my sissy reaction, but something inside me was telling me to pay attention to these dreams and so I did. I always did.
I opened my diary at a new page and started to describe tonight's dream.
Dear Diary,
It was the same dream tonight only it was different. Tonight, I felt her. I was holding her in my arms and I felt the electric shocks in my system. I saw her too. She's beautiful. My princess. Andorra. She has long wavy brown hair, mahogany with red streaks, down to her tiny waist. Her face is an exquisite heart shape and her skin is so creamy and smooth. But it's her eyes that captivate me. Large, almond shaped caramel coloured eyes that look like they are swirling. Her body was small and curvy and fit so perfectly in my arms. I can still feel her.
Tonight the dream was extended. The conversation was the same as always, but tonight I saw...I saw her father kill her. With his own sword. I felt the pain and despair as if I was actually there and watching it happen. I wonder what this means? Could this really be a very vivid dream...or is it a memory? Mine or someone else's? It feels like a memory. But then how is that possible. The setting in my dreams always looks like ancient Egypt and I have never been there!
What interests me is the unknown woman that had stood by and watched my princess be murdered whilst doing nothing to stop that atrocity. Who was she? Why did she do nothing to help Andorra? Did she know about our relationship and rat us out? What motive would she have to do so?
I have so many questions but no answers. Who do ask? I can't very well go to my parents and say 'Hey, guys, do you know if we've ever been to ancient Egypt?' Yeah right! They would have me committed! But still these questions remain and I hope to get my answers one day.
Until next time
Edward
I shut the book and laid it back in its place. I pushed back from my desk and glanced at the clock beside my laptop. 6.30am. May as well get up and get ready for school. There was no way I would be sleeping again now anyway. I gathered my thing for my shower and stepped into my en suite bathroom. I loved my bathroom. It was quite large for an en suite. It was done in white and black floor to ceiling tiles and a surround jet shower. In the far corner near the large frosted bay window is my circle whirlpool bathtub also in black with silver adornments and taps. My favourite part of my bathroom is my shower. Each wall has four power shower jets which can be adjusted to fit my mood.
I quickly showered and shaved (Yes, I recently started to shave!) and left the stall, wrapping my towel around my waist. I like to air dry so I never dry myself with my towel. I made my way to my closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Once I was dressed, I tried to flatten my hair. I say tried because no matter what I do to my hair, it never stays.
The rest of my day consists of my advanced placement classes (Yes, I am a genius) and ending with basketball practise. My sister, Alice is a cheerleader so we always ride the bus home together on the days I have practise. Alice or Mary Alice as she is officially named is my twin. Fraternal mind you. We look nothing alike, except for our green eyes. Where I have hair the colour of copper pennies, hers is a darker shade making it look more like a dark brown or nearly black. We do both have blond streaks. Alice is tiny. She is the smallest girl in our year. I am rather tall and lanky so I tend to tower over her.
My best friend, Jasper is more like my brother. We have been friends since we were five years old when he first moved here from Texas. Funny thing is, even now he still has a bit of his accent. Jasper and I tend to get up to much less mischief compared to other boys in our class. You would think that as a pair of thirteen year olds we would be rowdy and uncontrollable, but then neither Jasper nor I have been very normal even as kids. Jasper is a very quiet and calm guy. He only speaks if he has something worthwhile to share otherwise he tends to keep his mouth shut. I am quiet too, but that is mainly because I am shy. I don't make friends easily and especially since girls have started to become interesting to us guys I keep quiet.
I hate girls who giggle as soon as we walk into a room. Each week they have a new crush and more often than not the crush is either me or Jasper. Now, I'm not being pig headed or proud, but most of the girls in our class either have a crush on me or on Jasper. Jasper however has a crush on Alice. Yes Alice, as in my sister Alice. He thinks I don't know, but it's so obvious. Whenever she walks into the room his face lights up like the outside of our house on Christmas. I haven't said anything to him and neither he to me. I do find it strange though and I don't even want to think about them together. Shudder. Let's not even go there, yeah?
Dinner in our house is always a strange affair. It's either too quiet or too noisy. If Jasper joins us, it's always filled with laughter and jokes and if not we usually have a quiet conversation. Dad is the Chief of Surgery at Chicago University Hospital. It's a teaching hospital so Dad always has a new intern which means he's not always home for dinner. He does try, but sometimes it just feels like he's not a part of our family. I do not doubt his love for us in any way, but I just wish sometimes he would just let go of his job a little and actually spend time with us.
Mom owns her own business of interior design so she is around a lot more often as she tends to work from home in her office located just off of their bedroom on the first floor. Mom is a very gentle person and a mother in every sense of the word. Next to Alice and Jasper, she is the person I would go to for advice and comfort and so far she has always come through for me.
Being such a serious person, I am already decided on my course in life. As much as I hate my father being so absent in our lives, I do admire his work as a doctor. I understand the importance of it more than he realises that I do. Now, I'm not saying that I want to be a doctor, but psychology and the mind has always interested me. That is what I want to be. A shrink. Dad went to Harvard for his medical degree, but I think I would prefer a warmer climate so my mind is already set on going to Berkley. I read about this college online and it has so much to offer that it just seems like the most logical choice. That and something seems to be drawing me to there. Oh well, I have another five years to go before I can even bring that dream to fruitatian, who's to say by that time I will still wish to go there?
BPOV
Hey,
My dreams have changed. They've become clearer. Last night my dream was the same as it always has been - Me meeting my secret prince only this time I saw him. I actually saw him! That has never happened before. Although my dreams have always been vivid, the one thing I have never been able to see is my prince's face. He is by far the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. He is tall with bronze hair and blond highlights. He has an angular jaw and pale skin. His eyes. Oh, his eyes! They are the most startling shade of green I have ever seen! So light, lighter than emeralds and yet so deep at the same time. When he looked at me I felt as if he was looking right into my soul and understanding everything that it was saying to him. His body felt so warm and strong against mine that even now, sitting here four hours later, I can still feel him. I can still feel his arms around me, holding me protectively, lovingly and gently. I can still smell him too. His scent is so inviting, a mixture of honey and musk.
I wonder if this man is real. I mean, I'm not like most girls my age who all of a sudden seem to be interested in boys and clothes, but there is something about my prince that calls to me if only I could figure out what it was and if he actually exists. The thing is; the dream feels more like a memory than an actual dream or fantasy.
Wow. How stupid is that thought? How can it be a memory? My name is not Andorra, which is what he calls me and I certainly don't know anyone called Taos. Judging by the names and the surrounding area, I would say the setting is ancient Egypt and there is how I know it is just a fantasy. I have never been to Egypt, let alone ANCIENT Egypt!
I have to laugh at myself. I'm letting this dream get to me, but how the hell else do I explain the feeling that I have actually lived it then? Including what happened tonight. My death. At the hand of my father, the king.
Ok, definitely losing my mind now so I'm going just shut up and get ready for school. Hopefully Mike will leave me be today.
Until later
Bella
I shut the book and placed my diary back under my pillow. Sighing I shoved myself off from my bed and headed to the bathroom to start my morning routine. I never lied in my diary and for the first time since I started keeping a diary five years ago, I had lied today. My dream last night had kind of freaked me out. It really did feel like I was reliving a memory and not just dreaming. Something inside me was telling me this 'dream' was important to me somehow. Even in my unconscious state I could feel this...pull, for lack of a better word, towards my prince.
I snorted to myself. I always knew I wasn't like other girls my age. Even at age twelve, nearly thirteen, I was more mature than most students in my year and above. Taking care of my dad and brother all these years had forced me to grow up a lot faster than the rest. I mean, I even knew where I wanted to go to college when the time came! I knew what I wanted to study and I knew where I wanted to go in life. I had my entire life planned and mapped out already and kids my age were only thinking about basketball, clothes, the opposite sex or the latest celebrity news. Yeah I knew I was an anomaly in between my peers. Sue me.
