Author's Note: This was a difficult chapter for me to write. I feel like it's too short and kind of unfinished; it doesn't resolve itself as neatly as the previous chapters. But I think that fits. Grief is a messy process, and it doesn't always wrap itself up. But, as always, my characters surprised me; SJ, the narrator this time around, proved why she's her mother's daughter in this chapter.
This chapter was supposed to cover the stage of denial. That kind of happened, but what you really get this time around is a sense of vulnerability and confusion. I might not particularly like this chapter, but I really connected with SJ. She's about the same age I was when my daddy died, so when I was writing my way through this chapter I ended up putting a lot of my own feelings into her mouth. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Joey or Jake, but SJ, Josh, Jordan, and Jayde are all mine.
I sat in my throne, trying not to fidget under the scrutiny of everyone in the ballroom. But it was hard; my black Court mourning dress had gauze sleeves that irritated me, and the tiara on my head was heavy and giving me a headache. I wiggled in my seat, trying to sit up straight and look pretty, like my mother. I had spent most of tonight watching her out of the corner of my eye and copying her movements, trying to figure out how to act like a queen. Mama had been in the spotlight since she was my age, and she had promised to teach me how to do handle the constant attention.
I had been born a princess, but for my entire life I had just been another member of the royal family. I wasn't the Crown Prince; I was merely the fourth child and the second princess, so one had really paid much attention to me. But I was no longer just Princess SJ. I was Crown Princess Sara Jessica Emily Rose Corianth-Armstrong, the Patron Saint of Love and future Queen of Arcadia, and all eyes were on me.
Daddy had laughed (weakly, but it was a laugh nonetheless) when he first heard my new title, said that it was awfully long for such a short girl. I had to agree with him. Crown Princess Sara Jessica was a role that seemed too big for me. Part of me still couldn't believe that I was now the Crown Princess; that title had belonged to my cousin/sister-in-law only last week, how could it possibly mean me now?
I knew that people had been surprised that Mama had named me her Heiress Apparent. Many had thought that my niece Gloria would be the next Queen, since she was Joey's daughter and all. Failing that, they thought that my older brother Jakob, or his twin sister Jordan, would be named. But Mama had told me that Joey and Stella didn't want their kids to have to grow up with the pressures of being expected to rule, and since Jake and Jordan were the Lords of Hell they couldn't very well rule Arcadia as well. So that left me as the next in line… and here I was.
I shouldn't be freaking out this much, I figured. Mama had become a Saint when she was 15, only a year younger than me, and she had been crowned Queen only three years later, days after she married my daddy. Joey had been named the Crown Prince when he was a baby. Then, when Joey and Stella got married three years ago, Stella had become the Crown Princess. If they could handle this, surely I could.
But then again… Joey had been born the Crown Prince, and Stella had grown up knowing that she would marry Joey and be the Crown Princess, and eventually Queen. It had been nowhere in my future that I would become what I now was. I had thought that I would spend my entire life free to go around making people fall in love (and helping Daddy get himself back into Mama's good graces when he fucked up, which was often); I had never once thought that I would be Queen.
When Mama told me that I was going to be the Crown Princess, Daddy had said that it fit; he said I was the biggest princess of all his daughters. But I couldn't make sense of any of it. What was I doing, sitting on the dais next to my mother? Why was I answering to the title of Crown Princess? When had I become a Crown Princess? I was only SJ, just a 16-year-old girl. Where was Joey? He was the true Crown Prince… why wasn't he coming back to take what was his?
I guess my siblings and I don't understand death very well. It's always been a part of our lives, yeah, but it's never been permanent. Anytime anybody dies in our family, they always come back. We've had some close calls, yeah; there was the time when Aunt Henderson's coffin had been lowered into the ground before she woke up, and Mama almost hadn't come back after she gave birth to my youngest sister a decade ago. But at the end of the day, they had always returned. Why hadn't Joey? Why hadn't Josh? What made their deaths different?
I was very conscious that I was sitting in Joey's throne, that only ten days ago he had sat beside Mama as she held a general audience. I could swear I still smelled his cologne lingering to the padded fabric of the back and arms of the throne. Now I was here, in his place, bearing his title, taking over his destiny. It was wrong, so wrong. Joey had been born to be King. He had taken on the responsibilities of being Crown Prince when he was 10. He had been ready to take over for Mama, and everyone in the country (everyone who mattered, anyways) had loved him. How could I possibly take what was his? How could I do what he had sworn to do?
I wasn't Joey. I wasn't as strong as he was, or as brave. Joey had been fearless, a natural leader both in politics and in our magic. He had been a warrior, a fierce protector of our country and our power. I had hero-worshipped him, thought he was a god. Me? My power wasn't used for protection, it was used for love and beauty. I had never gone out to fight our enemies, like Joey, Stella, Jake, Jordan and Luke did. I wasn't nearly as strong as Joey was, and I didn't think I would ever get the hang of politics. How could anyone think I would be able to fill his shoes?
I sat up straighter when Mama glanced over at me. Even though I knew I was weak, I didn't want her to think I was. I wanted to deserve the trust she put in me, and I wanted to prove that I could rule someday, even if I didn't think I could.
"You look exhausted, Cupid," she said, using my nickname.
I shrugged. "I'm alright."
Mama raised a delicate eyebrow, seeing straight through my lie. "It's been a long night. Why don't you round up your little sister, and you two can take off for bed."
I nodded gratefully. "Where are Jake and Jord?"
"They took off with Jinx," she replied, her voice unworried though I saw the concern in her eyes. "They had to go take care of something."
"Another uprising?" I guessed.
"A border dispute," Mama answered.
I bit my lip. The country is generally pretty safe, thanks to Ryleigh and Aunt Jinx. But since Joey's death, there had been quite a few uprisings, people trying to come in and take over. Jakob had taken it upon himself to help Ryleigh guard our borders, and that meant that Jordan had to go too- she's the only one who can control Jake, especially when he loses his temper (which happens a lot). I knew from the look in Mama's eyes that she wanted to be out with them. She's been really worried about having any of us out of her sight since Joey and Josh died; I think she thinks that if she's there, she can keep everybody else from danger. Being the Jesus gives her a martyr complex a mile wide. She has more of a saving people thing than Harry bloody Potter. 'Cept she's not a whiny emo while she does it.
I stood and kissed Mama's cheek, then walked down the stairs of the dais and into the crowd, looking for my youngest sister. Knowing Jayde, as I did, she would be somewhere by herself, in the shadows somewhere.
When I didn't find her in the ballroom, I furrowed my brow and tried to sense her. I bit my lip when I figured out where she was; I should've known.
I looked down at myself and snapped my fingers, transforming my tiara and mourning clothes into a sundress and cardigan (I hate pants). I walked outside, brushing my red-gold hair out of my face (I have no idea where my hair came from; all my other siblings have dark hair, like Mama and Daddy). Steeling myself, I took off for the secluded back garden, where Jayde was hiding.
I brushed aside the branches of the willow tree, and found Jayde curled up at the base of Josh's sarcophagus, crying quietly. I sat next to her and hugged her, pulling her closer as she laid her head in my lap.
When it comes to my brothers and sisters and me, nobody but my parents, Aunt Henderson, and Uncle Mike can ever seem to remember which of us is which (Uncle Tre and Aunt Jinx gets confused all the time, and so does everybody else). I find that weird; it seems perfectly obvious to me. The weird thing is, though, how the six of us relate to each other. We all love each other, and despite our bickering we'd do anything for each other. But we each have our favorite sibling, the one that we relate to better than any of our other siblings or cousins. Mine is Jake. Jordan's had been Joey, and Jayde's had been Josh. I couldn't imagine how Jord and Jayde felt, to have lost their brothers. Despite how annoying and patronizing Jakob could be, he understood me better than anybody else, and I could tell him anything. I couldn't imagine losing him.
Jayde and Josh's bond had been a particularly strong one. Jayde is the quietest one of the six- well, now it was the four of us. I think that's because she's the Patron Saint of Prophecy; she's been seeing things since she was little, and that's made her really shy, and a bookworm. Josh had been the one to protect her from bullies at school, or people who made fun of her. He had also been the one to calm her down if she saw something traumatic. It had worked the other way, too; Jayde had been the only one who could cool Josh's temper, and who could coax him out of his more impossible moods.
"I miss him," Jayde choked out between sobs.
"I know," I whispered, curling over her. "I miss him too."
"Why didn't the Guardians bring him back?" Jayde asked. "They bring Mommy back, and Aunt Henderson, and Aunt Jinx. Why not Josh?"
"I don't know, Jayde," I said, blinking back tears.
"It's not fair," she cried.
I didn't know how to answer her, or what to do. Because she was right; it wasn't fair that our brothers hadn't been brought back. I held her close, hovering over her as she cried, but I didn't know how to comfort her. I closed my eyes, feeling the panic filling my chest and starting to paralyze me. I couldn't do this, this was too big a reality for me to handle. I had to be way too grown up now; I had to support my mother as her heir, I had to take care of my little sister, I had to become a warrior to help my family. Could I take that much weight on myself?
Did I have a choice?
I looked up at the bust of my eldest brother. Somehow, he had managed to bear all this pressure, to move through life with his head held high. I would learn to do the same. I might be terrified, but there was no way in hell that I was going to let my family down. Not when they needed me.
I was the future of my family, of my country. I was the Crown Princess. I would do everything I could to deserve the title, come hell or high water.
