Whoops! I guess it's harder to get back into the swing of things than I thought. Been busy since I got back, so I haven't been able to get back on. Here is the next chapter though. I hope you enjoy!

3 Linny

Two Worlds

Chapter Eight

The evening was dying down and midnight was fast approaching. Jack watched from the corner of the room as the princess danced with every eligible bachelor in attendance. Except for him. He wasn't sulking, but studying her. Her movements were elegantly smooth as she danced, though her smile no longer reached up to her eyes.

He'd left D out on the veranda to follow her, but he'd halted in his tracks as she hurried over to her father's chair. She'd whispered something in the King's ear, something that made his eyes scan the room in search of the man he wasn't.

Jack had felt King Edward's gaze when it set upon him. It was firm and cool, but so familiar. It was like he'd gazed into those eyes before, but years ago when he was a child. It was impossible to think, but there were ten full years of his life he still could not remember. And as much as he tried, he wished he could and at the same time wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He wanted to hide, to run away and just retreat back with the horses, but the draw of the princess kept his feet firmly planted to the floor. He couldn't move, he couldn't run. He could do nothing, but stare straight back into the hazel eyes of His Majesty. He should have been frightened of that gaze, but he wasn't. It felt surprisingly calm to him. His body remembered looking into those eyes before, but still his mind could not.

D's approaching figure forced him to set his focus on the present. His old friend stood stiffly before him, aggravation clearly written on his face. "Master Hudson," he said with a proper air about him. He was addressing Jack like he would the real Lords. He hadn't come over as just his friend, it had been an order. "His Majesty, King Edward, requests your presence in his private study." The look in D's eyes mixed with his aggravated expression told Jack that he was not at all happy the turn of events.

"D, what's going on? Why are-" he was asking him about the formal address, but he watched as those dark brown eyes flared up in a fiery heat. He shut his mouth after that.

"His Majesty will answer all of your questions, my Lord." He couldn't help but add a bit of tension to that last word. This hadn't been part of Jack's plan and he supposed he could put a stop to it, but he'd already said he would not pull Jack from the wreckage if he bungled. "If you'll follow me?" he didn't wait for an answer. He only turned around and began walking. Jack followed him in silence.

He swallowed hard as he stepped over the threshold of the large study. Books lined the walls, countless volumes and tomes of information, tragic stories of mystery and true love. Though he was sure he'd never seen this many books in one place before, Jack could keep the sense of familiarity away from him. In all his years of working at the palace, he'd never dared to venture so far inside. The kitchen was as far as he'd gone, though he'd always wondered.

He eyed D as his good friend stood at the door, awaiting the arrival of King Edward. The usual pleasant, happy eyes of the man were shrouded in a deep pit of concern and guilt. He knew that this would have happened if he'd gone through with his plot to bridge the common and noble world together. He'd known this entire time, but had never said anything. Why?

Jack opened his mouth to ask, but refrained from doing so as he witnessed the pained look in D's brown eyes. He wasn't happy it had come to this, but he didn't want Jack to be led to the guillotine either. He didn't know what to do. He could tell the boy to run, but then where would that leave them? He should at least hear what His Majesty had to say.

The wait was agonizing, Jack thought as he let his eyes roam around the room. The leather bindings were drawing him nearer, the pages urging him to read what they contained. He chuckled silently and mirthlessly. Most servants didn't know how to read and probably didn't know what a real book looked like.

He remembered teaching the others in his army unit the gift of the written word, but couldn't remember where he'd learned. His memories had not been as convoluted then. Flashes of things past would come to him in the dead of night: a handsome man with kind brown eyes much like his own and a beautiful woman with long, flowing wavy of dark chestnut hair. They knew him but they were strangers to the young boy still trapped inside of him.

A pain ripped through his heart at the memories that were too blurred to make sense. He felt the hot sting of tears at the back of his eyes and held them there. Crying over lost recollections would get him nowhere.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and continued to lay in wait for the king's arrival.

A large table sat in the center of the room and resting on top of it was a large map. The trails around a specific clump of land had been traced. Following the lines with his fingers, Jack found a road leading to a manor. Hudson Manor, it read and he gasped. His feet urged to take a step back, but his mind wouldn't cooperate.

His brow furrowed in thought as this view of the land looked familiar. The small things were not included on the map, like the tree house in the large oak tree just off of the rear veranda behind the main kitchen. His fingers ached as the memory of the heavy wood and the hard work he'd put into that masterpiece flooded into his mind.

It had actually hurt to remember, physically. Emotionally, his heart was lifted. He'd been able to remember something he hadn't in years.

His finger trailed lightly over the paper to where he knew the master's study to be and all the books that lined his walls. It was nothing as great as the king's but it was certainly close. He could imagine the smell of the leather binding of his favorite book and smiled. The tome had carried the story of a brave hero that traveled the land in search of maidens to rescue, his actions bridging the gap between the two completely different classes. Noble and commoner were one in the same in those pages.

He drew back as a painful flash echoed in his mind. Flames. They'd consumed the study, the only home he'd known, the family he'd forgotten. He could feel the flickering flames dance across his skin. The burning sensation was all too great. He wanted to cry out and to run, but there was no way of escape.

He heard a woman's scream of pain as their home was engulfed…

"Jack?" D asked, shaking his charge's shoulder in a panic. He'd seen the pain wash over the young man and even through the mask saw the tears trickling from his eyes.

A light film of sweat beaded at his forehead and his chest hurt like he'd breathed in a great gulp of smoke. He doubled over as he coughed and only stood when a glass of water was shoved into his hand.

He drank deep and welcomed the coolness of the water. He only pulled away when the glass was drained, but now his stomach felt like it had tied itself into a knot. The pain was unbearable and he felt like he needed to sit.

"Where were you?" D asked softly as he watched the pained emotions shift from one to another on Jack's face. In a fatherly manner, like he would do with Davey so often when his son was brought to tears, D let his fingers run through Jack's hair. Donna was usually so much better at comforting than he was, but when Jack didn't pull away, neither did he.

Letting out a shaky breath, Jack raised his eyes to look at the other man. "Hell," was the only word he'd said, because he feared to say more. His voice was deeper with a low rasp to it. It wasn't his own and he was afraid what else might cross his lips.

Hell. There was no other way to describe where his mind had led him. His past lay in the now cold ashes of a tragic fire. His parents had been lost among the flames and he should have been as well, but he'd been pulled from the wreckage. He'd been allowed to live, to put right what was turned wrong.