Oh yes! I'm back, with a sincere promise that this story is not dead and will never die! I plan to finish this story, mark my words. That being said...this is the second to last chapter. It has been nearly two years exactly since this story began, and we are nearly at the close. It is ver bittersweet, and I thank the following reviewers for riding this ridiculous voodoo roller-coaster with me: Hermioneroxx77, danaplayshorn, Icecreampopstar, MusicDisneyStoked, haruko sohma, xXGlamorousGloraXx, Conejo-sama, Chocolate Tunda, Decepticon Fan, Snowland316, The Bitch Next Door, JuJu, and Crescent Blue (Snowland316 in disguise who was kind enough to review twice)! A good portion of you have reviewed many of my chapters and I appreciate your support more than anything.

I was extremely inspired this afternoon with this chapter. I wrote more than half of it in just a few hours! I just had to get it to you all before I let myself go to bed. I just wish I had the same motivation when it comes to studying for my midterms:)

Darn sunlight.

I was feeling immensely relaxed for the first time in a long while. There was nothing like the comfort of a person's own bed, that nobody slept in but them. Only I could appreciate the wonder that was my pillow and my sheets and my mattress. Cuddling deeper and deeper into the plush softness made me feel safe and happy inside.

The sun had no respect for such luxuries.

The sun wanted me up, and it wanted me up now.

And of course, as soon as I opened my eyes there was no hope of ever going back to my dream world. In Dream World, I didn't have the memories of a Voodoo nightmare come to life. In Dream World, I didn't have a kind-of boyfriend who was going off to war.

In Dream World there wasn't international royalty sleeping in the guest room next door.

I sat up and stared at the floor for god-knows how long. There lay my costume in a crumpled heap on the floor - only more proof that last night happened. Next to them were my shoes, discarded just as carelessly. I lifted a hand to my hair - it was the rats nest I expected it to be. My pillow was smeared with mascara that I was too tired to remove. Daring a look in the mirror over my vanity, I caught sight of the horror that was me after a long night of supernatural adventures. The dark bags and bloodshot eyes weren't a surprise. What did surprise me was the short, horizontal line on the front of my neck.

Lifting a trembling hand, I brushed my fingers against the scab, wiping away some of the left over dried blood in the process. I only vaguely remembered my brief encounter with Facilier's knife. Most of the night was a blur of adrenaline.

We had watched Facilier die. It was a relief to see him gone, but I was still left confused and troubled, with a severe doubt in my own sense of judgment. Who could I trust myself to trust after realizing how easily I had been manipulated?

I remembered that Mama Odie was nowhere to be seen after Facilier's demise. She must have left as quickly as she had come. The fireflies followed us home to help light our way, a sight that I'm sure did not look normal to any strangers we passed. Such persons' apathy and drunkenness helped us navigate the streets without much interruption. Louis had to leave to reunite with his band members - though I suspected he may be coming around again before he departs the city. I planned to keep a safe distance if he did - a friendly alligator was not something I was ready to get to comfortable with.

Gingerly lifting myself from the bed, I put more effort than it was probably worth into moving across the floor as soundlessly as possible. At my vanity I went through my usual morning routine - it was a desperate attempt to convince myself everything was normal, though I knew very well it may never be again. My whole body felt numb, like I was in dense fog with no sense of direction. I brushed my hair, washed my face, and dressed myself all without thinking a single coherent thought. Every action was practiced and mechanical, though I think I took much less time than usual, to delay the inevitable.

I don't know how many seconds, minutes, hours passed while a stood at my door, my hand resting on the brass knob. The metal was so cold - and my hand was sweating to the point where - when I did force myself to turn the contraption - it took several tries before enough friction occurred for me to succeed. Once the click of the lock signaled the door was open, there was no going back. I put one bare foot in front of the other and padded my way down the hallway. When I found myself down two flights of stairs I realized I had no idea how I'd gotten there. One moment I was lying in bed, the next I was fully dressed a made up for the day ahead, standing just outside the dining room.

I knew that I was not the only one in the house awake. I could smell the bacon and eggs that no doubt were laid out on our best china with all of the fancy silverware on the dining room table, and yet I heard no clink of silver against ceramics, nor the healthy chatter of mealtime. There was chatter, yes, but only of the hushed, unintelligible kind. I rested in the hallway, completely isolated from the three people behind the door. Laying one hand against the olive colored wall, and then my head, I closed my eyes and breathed for several moments. I had the strong feeling my life was altered, and I didn't know how to handle it. Slowly letting my eyes drift open I stared ahead of me, where a grand portrait of the so-called Big Daddy La Bouff hung proudly for everyone to see. I had never met the man, but only ever heard good things about him. They said he was good-natured, generous, and had a large laugh. I found myself asking him to help me through whatever was to come. Perhaps I needed all the assistance I could get.

With all of the mental strength I could muster, I pursed my lips and pushed the dining room door open, cringing as a rusty hinge squeaked. I was met with not the three pairs of eyes I expected, but four. You cannot imagine my relief when I discovered the fourth pair simply belonged to Nana. But still.

None of them were seated around the table, which was indeed decorated with platters protected and kept warm by ornate silver tops. They all stood together near the windows, looking out at the garden while carrying on a conversation. At least, I imagine that was what they were doing. As soon as that wretched hinge disturbed my entrance every eye was one me, and not a word was spoken.

Until Aunt Lotte, bless her, broke the silence, as she could always be counted upon to do. "Evangeline - you're up." I wish she hadn't chosen that moment to be a person of few words. "How did you sleep?"

I choked out a short 'good,' briefly glancing over to the King and Queen, whose overwhelming yet still unidentifiable emotions intimidated me to no end.

"We…have some things we need to talk about." I nodded, and took my seat at the table as Lotte claimed the head. Nana sat beside me, giving my hand a squeeze, and the King and Queen sat opposite us.

I had thought, after all that I had witnessed, that I was prepared to handle anything.

I was dead wrong.

They told me everything, starting with the Mardi Gras they met and ending with the night they left me. I was in shock and awe. What the heck was I supposed to say to all of that? It took a moment for it to really hit me: These people were my parents. My family. I was suddenly hyper-aware of everything - how much I looked like a perfect mix of their features, how my smile matched his and my hair had the same untamed curls as hers. And Nana…Nana was my grandmother! She was my actual Nana this whole time, and she never said anything.

Tiana and Naveen - Mom and Dad - looked so happy and so anxious at the same time. They just stared at me, waiting to see what I would do, but I couldn't sort out my emotions. I had never really considered what would happen if I ever saw my parents. The few times it passed my mind I just told myself it was never going to be. But this…this was far more complicated and awkward than I ever could have imagined! Since when was my life a fantasy book? People don't just walk into your life and tell you you're foreign royalty. It's not normal.

Okay, I understood that they did what they thought was best for me but…I still couldn't help but be more than a little pissed off. I mean, they went almost eighteen years - eighteen freaking years! - without any contact with me. I had never seen these people before in my life, not as my parents, not as family friends, not as anything, and all of a sudden they were sitting at my dining room table saying they were my biological parents. What did they expect me to do? Squeal and run off to Maldonia to become a princess like I had nothing here to lose?

And that's another thing - I knew absolutely nothing about Maldonia. I mean, when I was little Charlotte and I would sometimes sit and read about the country and its customs in a world travel book. I thought that was just a little educational enrichment activity. It certainly makes much more sense now.

But still, I don't even know how to speak Maldonian or whatever it was that they spoke there. Maybe it was French or Italian or something - but it wasn't like I was fluent in one of those either.

Nana asked me if I was alright. I lied and said yes. I couldn't look any of them in the eye. I didn't know what I was feeling, so I excused myself and quietly grabbed my coat as I went outside on the front lawn.

The day was pretty much cloudless. Too happy for my tastes at the moment. Why couldn't the world be a cliché for just one moment and let the sky pour down rain? Leaning up against the iron gate I observed the quiet street in front of me. It seemed most of the city was getting over a severe hangover, though a few unlucky souls were trudging about after coming off of their holiday high. It seemed appropriate that I joined them, so I bundled deeper into my coat and set off along the sidewalk. My subconscious was clearly in charge of my body at the time, because there was no way I voluntarily chose the direction that lead straight to the Benoit's street. But somehow I got there and I stopped at a corner, glaring at the large white house that was the only one to rival ours for Yard of the Month. Embarrassingly, I started to feel the burning of saltwater at the base of my eyes, and wiped at them quickly before any tears could fall.

I wondered how the Benoits were faring - if they were holding up better than us. Our lives certainly seemed at bit more complicated than theirs, but then again we didn't have a son going off to war and a party-gone-haywire to explain. Determination filled me as I began hoofing my way toward the house, but what I was determined about escaped me. Did I wasn't to apologize for the disturbance? I probably should have but that would have raised more questions than answers. No need to have Daniel's family thinking I was crazy.

I looked up from my feet and immediately halted where I was. So did he.

We looked at each other.

And looked some more.

I wiped my eyes again. They felt puffy now.

He was there, not ten feet away from me. He had been walking in the opposite direction. He looked awful, and I cringed at what I must look like to him.

We each took a few tentative steps and were soon close enough to have a proper conversation, but I don't think either of us knew the right thing to say. From up close I could really see just how tired he looked. It was his black eye, though, that really made me feel guilty.

I cleared my throat. "Um, I was just…coming to see you." I think that's what I was doing anyway.

"Me too." Daniel said quietly. Then we stared at the ground a bit, shuffled our feet. One of us commented on the cold. "How are you doing since…you know?" He finally said.

I shrugged. "My memory's a complete mess and my whole world just got turned upside-down. You?"

"About the same."

I felt terrible. He looked like he'd been through hell and back, which judging on the bits and pieces I could remember was probably true. "I'm sorry." I whispered, unable to get any volume into my voice for fear of it cracking. "I don't know what I did last night, but I'm really sorry. I don't know why you came after me after everything I said but…thank you."

Daniel brought his eyes - I loved his eyes - up to meet mine and he seemed…angry. His voice was scratchy and worn as he growled, "You have nothing to be sorry about. I don't want you to ever be sorry about something that isn't your fault! Okay?"

"Okay!" I squeaked, surprised at his intense emotion. We were closer now, only inches apart. My head was tilted back so I could watch him, and he was contemplating me while his mouth pressed into a worried line. I sighed, a puff of white coming up between the two of us as my hot breath met the biting cold. "My parents are here. The real ones." I felt the pressing need to let him know. He was the one I wanted to tell first. Not Virginia or Mary or Ruth. Him.

His answer threw me off. "I know."

"You know?"

He stuffed his hands deeper into his coat pockets and looked straight into my eyes, and I was held there in paralysis. There was no way I could look away from those eyes, and I think he know that.

"I know." He murmured again, and I marveled at the smoothness of his voice. Like hot chocolate. "They told me last night."

That made sense. I guess it would have been strange if they were running around New Orleans with him while they looked for me without letting him in on their connection to the ordeal.

"Do you know who they are? You know, besides my parents?" Every word that came out of my mouth sounded so foolish. The whole thing seemed like a child's story. How was I supposed to tell him that I was some kind of royalty. Daniel's dark eyebrows came together in confusion - and, boy, was it cute - while he shook his head no.

I ran a hand through my hair, huffing when my fingers got caught in a tangle. Typical. Frustration set in as I deduced how I was going to go about this. How did he not know? Wouldn't his parents have told him if Maldonian monarchs were attending their little Mardi Gras masquerade? The only possibility was that he hadn't been talking to his parents much and hadn't bothered to go down to the party before I saw him. Somehow I thought any distance between him and his parents might be my fault too. I'm the one that put him in that horrible mood.

After a minute or so of attempting to organize the sentence fragments floating around my head I started to explain, albeit not well. "Um...okay so…here's the thing…ah…my parents are…they're…they're sort of…Ugh!" I wiped my hand across my eye again, damning the tears that clouded my vision. "I don't know how to get this out!" My voice was quivering. I hated sounding this pathetic. A large hand came to rest on my shoulder and I let it guide me to a nearby bench. I shivered as I felt the seat's cold metal through my clothing, and the warm arm attached to the hand secured itself around my shoulders. I felt so comfortable and safe with Daniel. I could have sat like that with him for hours, but there were more important things to think about.

He didn't say anything, just waited patiently as I gathered the bits and pieces of myself as best as I could. I spared a glance to look at him, making sure that he really was there and not just a figment of my imagination. I was worried that all the stress was sending me into madness. But no, he was there, nothing but concern written across his angel-face. I let my head fall into his shoulder and fixed my gaze on a crow sitting on a rooftop across the street. I would have liked to have been a crow right about then. They were so non-descript, so common, and they could fly away whenever they wanted with not a care in the world.

"They're a king and queen from a small country called Maldonia." I didn't know I was speaking until I felt the vibration in my throat - my neck's position combined with the strain of speaking tugged at the sensitive scar across my skin.

"I've heard of it," was his only response. I found strange comfort in his thoughtful silence. I needed it.

"They had a history with Facilier. He was after me for revenge, so they sent me away to protect me. They thought he was gone and didn't want to miss my eighteenth birthday, so they came back."

"Impeccable timing."

I 'hmphed' in mild amusement.

And there was more silence. I listened to his breathing and watched the sun-bathed street activity, avoiding looking at any shadows. We sat like that in perfect harmony with each other for minute after minute.

Finally, I croaked out in a choked sob, "I don't want to leave."

Daniel shifted under me, and I lifted my eyes to gaze up at him. He looked so caring in that moment. I didn't know why I ever doubted him. He practically risked his life saving me the night before and now he was the one trying to comfort me?

He hugged me closer and asked, "Why would you have to leave?"

"They're my parents," I told his like the answer was obvious, which it was, "I'll have to go back with them. I'm their only child and heir to the throne. They'll want to train me so I can be queen one day." I shuddered. It all sounded so weird. I continued, getting so caught up in the momentum I suddenly gained to say whatever was on my mind. "And, maybe I should go! I mean, what else would I do? I'm graduating in a few months, and then what? All of my friends are heading to different places. Virginia's moving to Atlanta to be a stenog for her uncle, Ruth has an internship offer in Paris of all places, and God-knows that Mary's doing half the time! Here I am, not even sure of who I am anymore. And then," I gulped, tripping over my words, "And then you're leaving too. What will I have left here except Nana and Charlotte?"

The emotions swimming in his eyes were so conflicting, sad, anxious, and…amused at the same time. He brought his hand up to my face, his thumb drawing circles in my cheek while the rest of his fingers disappeared into my hair. "Angel," He laughed as he said the nickname, and I couldn't help but smile. "I'm not leaving."

It was my turn to furrow my eyebrows. "Pardon?"

In the most adorable way possible his smile grew, like he was sharing an inside joke with himself. "I'm not leaving. Last night you left so quickly you didn't give me time to explain." A deep blush crept into my cheeks. I had been pretty unreasonable.

"But how could you not be leaving? You can't just say no to a draft letter, Daniel."

"I didn't."

"What?"

He laughed his wonderful deep laugh, enjoying my bewilderment. "When I left it wasn't to enlist. I, uh," His hand left my cheek (much to my disappointment) and went to scratch the back of his head. I could tell he was embarrassed about whatever it was he had to tell me. "I…I went back up to Columbia and begged them to forgive me and take me back. I'm due to go back for the summer semester under probation. If my grades aren't top-notch they're dropping me." He sighed. "I hate school, but I hate war more…And I hate making you and my family upset."

I think I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Daniel watched me expectantly, waiting to see my reaction. I was overjoyed and relieved. I would get to keep Daniel for a little while longer, even if I had to give him come summer. I found myself laughing, giggling hysterically while I embraced him more tightly than I ever had before. Before long he was joining me, and we were just two idiots sitting on a bench laughing for no apparent reason. Then I kissed him. I had never initiated a kiss before. It had always been the boy, but this time I was taking control. It was our real first kiss.

And it was magical.

My hands were held in his and I cuddled into him, completely content. But, being the slight pessimist that I was, I couldn't help but think, what next? I had Daniel, yes, but only for a few months, until he was off to New York again, hundreds and hundreds of miles away. College was not in my future, there was no way I could go with him. I'd be stuck here, alone.

My thoughts drifted back to my parents, and for the first time in my entire life I felt a yearning to know them. Really know them. I sort of bubbling warmth of excitement built up in the pit of my stomach as I considered all of the things I had yet to learn about myself that I could only find out with their help. I had an entire family history that I didn't even know about until that morning! What sorts of adventures and secrets lay buried deep in my genealogy? What lives did my ancestors lead? What kind of culture burns within me?

Could I do it? Could I leave everything - my home, my friends, my life - to pursue a part of me that had laid dormant inside of me for nearly eighteen years?

It hit me. I was a princess. There was an entire land across the Atlantic Ocean that I was destined to lead, filled with people whose roots are the same as mine. I had always felt a little out of place in New Orleans. I lived with an aunt who had no relation to me and in a society where no one looked like me. Now I knew why, and I had the opportunity to accomplish far more than I ever imagined. It was my responsibility to do so. I owed it to myself, my family, my people to do all that I could to make up for the time I'd lost and learn how to be the best I could be.

I guess Daniel and I were kind of alike in that respect.

I took in a big breath. I knew what I wanted to do, and by the way he smiled at me, Daniel knew too.

"I'm going to go with them."

Well. There it is. One chapter to go. I can't believe I have come this far with Evangeline. I look foward to posting the Epilogue. Reviews make it come faster:)