A/N: Hi! First, I wanted to thank all of you for your amazing reviews. I seems I have peaked your interest with this story and I'm glad to hear it. I hope this next chapter will have the same positive effect. I'm very excited about this story! Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to review!
Disclaimer: SM owns everything.
''I heard you had an interesting visitor today, Isabella.''
I swayed slowly back and forth in my rocking chair as I watched the sun disappear behind an apple tree.
''You knew he was coming,'' I said. It wasn't a question, so it didn't surprise me when I didn't receive an answer. I tucked the blanket that had been draped over me into my sides and rested my elbows on the arms of the rocking chair.
''Do you want to tell me about it?''
I stared into the patient and understanding eyes of my therapist. So much understanding and so little comprehension.
''He told me I had been accepted at NYU.''
''That's very good news, isn't it?'' His blue eyes twinkled behind his round spectacles. ''You've told me it was your dream once.''
''Once,'' I agreed. I rested my head against the chair and gazed at the setting sun. The sky had turned a bloody orange; someone had painted it that way with flames and blood.
''It died, along with everything else, and now lies buried in a tomb beyond my reach.''
He crossed his left leg over the other and leaned back in his chair. ''Some things have to die to make room for new things. Better things.''
I tore my gaze away from the setting sun and fixed him with a cold glare. ''And some die and take everything with them.''
He sighed and rested his elbow on his chair, leaning his head in the palm of his hand.
''Did you apply to NYU before - '' he caught himself and struggled to find the right word. ''Everything,'' he decided.
''I never applied.''
This seemed to confuse him. I could see the familiar lines in his forehead straining against his greying eyebrows.
''Plans change,'' I clarified. I stared at a solitary flower that swayed near the porch.
''Perhaps they can change again,'' he offered. I closed my eyes when the warm evening wind blew across my face. ''This man has given you the opportunity to start over. At least consider it.''
''I already told him no.''
I watched his reaction and wasn't surprised when an irritated frown appeared on his already crowded forehead. He sighed and rubbed his face with the palm of his hand.
''If you keep rejecting every chance at happiness you - ''
''He'll be back,'' I said before he could finish his sentence. His eyebrows shot up before they knitted together in confusion.
''Is that what he told you?''
''No, but he'll be back.'' I replayed the meeting with Mr. Whitlock in my head and nodded. ''He'll be back. Tomorrow, same time.''
''Charlie called this afternoon,'' he said. He seemed to think it best to change the subject. My left eye twitched in irritation at the mention of that name and I swallowed my retort.
''He wanted to know if - ''
''I know what he wants,'' I said, cross and cold. ''And the answer hasn't changed.''
''Isabella.'' My therapist sighed. Every conversation we had seemed to age him. It made me wonder why he bothered at all. ''He's your father. He only wants what's best for you.''
I scoffed and shook my head. ''Obviously.''
It remained silent for a moment and I focused my eyes on the setting sun once more.
''Well,'' he said after a long pause. ''You should get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow.''
''Good night.'' My response signaled the end of our conversation and he left after muttering a resigned good night.
My suspicions proved right when Mr. Whitlock showed up the following day, accompanied by the same nurse. I checked the time and wanted to laugh at his predictability. Two o'clock in the afternoon, the same time as yesterday. Punctual, determined and just as polite as ever.
''Good afternoon, Mr. Whitlock. ''
''Miss Swan.''
He held his hand out for me to take and I didn't hesitate this time.
''How are you feeling today?'' He sat down in the vacant chair on the porch, his eyes trained on my face.
''I'm fine.''
''You don't seem surprised to see me,'' he noted and the corner of my mouth twitched in response.
''A loyal servant doesn't return empty handed.''
He smiled and leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine.
''And yet you seem determined to thwart my task.''
''Overcoming adversity shows a strength of character,'' I said, quoting his own words.
''Is all this merely a test designed to prove my sincerity?''
I rested my head against the chair and swayed back and forth, contemplating my response.
''No,'' I answered after a pause. ''It's a method.''
''Isn't that the same thing?''
We were interrupted when a nurse appeared with a tray and placed it on the table between us. She handed Mr. Whitlock a porcelain cup filled with herbal tea before she gave me an identical cup. She placed a platter of biscuits on the table and left again without another word. I used the distraction to buy myself some time and took a sip of my herbal tea. Mr. Whitlock copied my action and his features arranged themselves into a look of disgust before he put the cup back down.
I placed a small cup of sugar in front of him and he chuckled.
''How did you know?''
''Very few drink their tea without sugar,'' I said.
''Except you?'' he asked as he poured some sugar into his cup.
''It kills the flavor.''
He took another sip and hummed in approval. ''Better.''
''It's not the same thing,''I said, answering his question. ''I don't doubt your sincerity.''
He put his tea down and took a biscuit. ''Then what do you doubt?''
''Nothing in particular.'' I wedged the nail of my left dumb between my teeth as I pondered. ''I'm trying to deduce your motivations.''
''You want to know a servant's motivations?'' This seemed to amuse him. '' Aren't they always the same?''
''Your king's motivations then,'' I amended.
''I told you yesterday,'' he reminded me and I shook my head.
''That answer won't do.''
He sighed and took another sip. ''You doubt his intentions?''
''Obviously.'' I sipped my tea before I continued. ''What is this really about?''
''I'm here to offer you a scholarship,'' he answered without a pause and my eyes narrowed.
''Why would he offer a scholarship to a stranger?''
This time Mr. Whitlock took a little longer to answer my question.
''What makes you think you haven't met before?''
''Then why the secrecy?'' It just didn't add up.
''He prefers to remain an anonymous benefactor.'' He paused and took another sip. ''At least for now.''
''What about my accommodations? ''
''Everything is taken care off,'' Mr. Whitlock assured me. I frowned at him and took a biscuit to buy myself some time to think it over.
''What's holding you back?'' he asked, sensing my hesitation. ''Isn't this the opportunity of a lifetime?''
''I get the feeling you already know the answer to that.'' I rested my head against the rocking chair and resumed my swaying.
''Yesterday you told me your king is dead,'' he said, his eyes suddenly boring into mine. I didn't look away. The only way to get answers was to relay everything.
''Tell me your story,'' he urged. I didn't respond, but watched as the fire in his eyes lit up. ''Tell me your story and I'll tell you mine.''
It was a tempting offer.
''You must have the patience of a saint,'' I noted and his right eyebrow arched.
''I can't be both,'' he said. ''I'm either a servant or a saint.''
''Are you here to hear my confessions?'' I asked. ''Or are you here because you've been ordered to collect me?''
''Perhaps both,'' he allowed. ''But saints do not move.''
''Perhaps I misplaced you twice and are you neither the servant nor the saint.''
''Then what am I?''
''The king's wise council perhaps?''
The right corner of his mouth lifted as he watched me. ''His right hand?''
''Your king must be very determined if he sends his right hand,'' I noted.
''He is,'' Mr. Whitlock assured me. ''So, do we have a deal?''
''My story in exchange for yours?'' I verified and he nodded. ''I'd say that's a bargain.''
''Knowledge always comes at a price.''
''I'm very well aware, Mr. Whitlock.''
''I do have another stipulation,'' he added and I leaned my head to the side. ''When the truth is out you need to accept the offer and come with me to New York.''
''No turning back, huh?'' I said and he nodded. ''I figured as much.''
I remained silent, thinking. My curiosity would be the death of me, but that may turn out to be a blessing in disguise. I feared nothing, because I had nothing left to lose.
''Deal.'' I held my hand out for him to take and he shook it with a smile. He drank the rest of his tea and rose from his chair.
''I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Whitlock.''
He didn't question my assumption. He merely smiled and picked up his briefcase.
''Until tomorrow, Miss Swan.''
On that note he left and I was alone once more. I sipped my tea in contemplative silence and swayed the chair back and forth in a slow, comforting rhythm.
At some point the nurse returned to refill my cup of tea. My days had become predictable.
People seemed to go out of their way to offer me some kind of routine. It made me feel clairvoyant.
At seven PM sharp my therapist returned, taking his usual seat across from me. He sat in the same chair Mr. Whitlock had vacated a few hours before.
''It seems your speculations were spot on, Isabella.'' He smiled and placed is left leg over the right one, just as I anticipated. ''I'm glad to see he hasn't given up on you.''
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. ''Do you want to tell me about it?''
''He'll be back tomorrow, two o'clock.''
''That's very good news, isn't it?'' His blue eyes twinkled behind his round spectacles.
''We made a deal.''
''What kind of deal?'' I could hear the concern in his voice and when I turn my head to check the familiar frowning lines had congregated on his crowded forehead.
''My story in exchange for his,'' I clarified. ''And he made me promise to come to New York with him after that.''
''So you're going to college after all?'' His voice sounded full of hope and his wrinkled forehead smoothed, making him appear ten years younger.
''That's not part of the deal.'' The frowning lines returned in full force.
''Then why would you go to New York?''
''This was never about a scholarship.''
More vagueness! But with the promise that from now on things will become clearer as soon as they start opening up to each other. Please let me know what you think, good or bad, and leave a review! I'll update again very soon!
TTFN! X