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Chapter Eighteen

Gwendolyn

Present Day

“ G wendolyn?” Meria asked, and I looked away from the island in the distance to focus on her.

“Sorry,” I said, bowing my head.

“You do not have to be sorry. Being back here–I am sure it is difficult.”

“I never thought I would come back here, that is for certain.”

“We will find him, help him repay whatever debt he owes, and then be back in Walden before we know it.”

“I hope so,” I whispered, a sad smile on my lips.

Meria gave a hopeful smile and patted my arm. She was so kind, and I was grateful to her.

“Wendy! ”

I turned to see Michael behind me with a cup of tea. While hearing him call me Wendy used to annoy me, hearing him say it, then, somehow made me feel closer to my brother. I was grateful he was there.

“Thirsty?” he asked, handing the cup to me. I took it, gratefully, and drank the warm liquid. Being on the sea made me so unsteady as I shifted with the ship, but I was proud of myself for not spilling a drop.

“I need to find Dominick. I think we should try to sail to the island,” Meria said, giving a smile to Michael as a greeting.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Are you all right?” Michael asked me as Meria walked across the deck and over to her husband.

I took a deep breath.

“I miss Peter. But being back here—”

“I am sure being back here is a bit terrifying,” Michael interrupted.

“It was not my favorite experience, even if it did bring Peter and me closer to each other.”

“Of course, I am sorry,” Michael said with a soft smile.

I knew Michael was not like my parents, but I had never spent so much time with him as I had over the previous few months.

There was more goodness and kindness inside of him than I had realized.

“And Wendy, you know Mother. She says things, but they are not true.”

I looked up into his blue eyes, a similar shade to mine .

“Thank you, Michael.”

“It’s hard being at home for me, so I often leave, but I feel as if I have done a disservice to my siblings. John can handle it, I guess, but I feel as though you are more like me, and some things Mother says must dig and cut deep inside of you.”

“It is hard to get Mother out of my mind?,” I agreed.

“I am here if you ever wish to talk about it.” He placed a warm hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you, really, thank you,” I said.

He nodded and walked across the deck. I looked back out over the sea.

Mother had always caused me such deep pain, as had my father.

Him never telling Mother that what she did to me was wrong or cruel made me feel like he agreed with so many of the things she said.

I confided in Peter about it. He knew I had a hard time with my mother, but when I told him the extent of it, he truly wished to imprison her or shame her in court—the place she loved most. I could not do that to her, though; I did not want that on my or Peter’s conscience.

I just wanted peace. Being cruel back would not bring me the peace I desired.

I touched my right hand, which held the teacup, recalling a memory.

Two Months Before Present Day

Peter kissed my right hand as I told him about my mother’s cruelty and explained my home-life.

“I will go and speak with her,” he said.

“No, Peter, I do not wish for you to give her any punishment.”

“But she should not treat you so,” he said, caressing my cheeks and wiping away the tears.

“I will no longer allow her to do so. You have given me the strength to stand up to her. It may still take time, but I want the opportunity to do so.”

“You are a far better person than I am, Gwen.” He kissed my cheek.

“I want peace, Peter. I do not hate her–only her actions.”

“Again, so much better than me. Know this, she will not be allowed in the palace. I want you to have a safe place where you will be free from her. Once we are married, we will do as we wish. ”

“I look forward to being in charge of my own life. I cannot wait for it, Peter.”

“You are mine, and I am yours, Lady Gwendolyn Darling. Your pains and concerns are also mine.”

“I am yours, and you are mine, Peter,” I said back, taking his hand and kissing it. His bright eyes always reminded me of starlight. Not because they were the color of stars, but because of the joy that trickled into his eyes against his dark irises.

“We shall find peace and safety here, and maybe a relationship away from your mother will bloom. If not, and she harms my wife, she shall be in the dungeons.”

“You are a poet, Peter!” I said.

“No, I just appreciate flowery language,” he said with a smirk. I pulled his hand toward me, causing him to press against my body. He wrapped his arms around me, securing us like a tether to each other.

“Flowery language, huh?”

“I know you love that the best.”

“What do you mean?” I asked as he leaned in to kiss me, then stopped.

He looked into my eyes, playfully.

“Whenever the books you read to me get descriptive, you are so clear in your speaking. The way you speak, it is as if you are crafting the magic of the scene with your reverence and awe. However, I still wish you would do the different voices for me as you do for the children.” He gave a pout.

I kissed his lips softly and smiled. “You would laugh at my different voices,” I said.

“I would not; I would adore them.”

“Maybe, someday, I shall do them for you.”

“Fine, but I may die without it,” he said.

“You are dramatic,” I laughed.

“I am not known for being dramatic. You, however? Now, that is a different story entirely.”

“Really? That was intentional. These puns of yours–”

“I am an open book, Lady Gwendolyn Darling.” He kissed the side of my neck.

“Peter, you are incorrigible,” I giggled.

“No, but do not prune me back; I may have it within me if you let me blossom,” he said, pulling away to look me in the eye as he wiggled his eyebrows. That was when I let out a loud laugh–and snorted. I placed a hand over my face.

“I am so sorry—”

“Sorry for laughing? I love your laugh.”

“Peter, do be honest. I snorted.”

“I love snorting. Do it more often, and then I shall truly know I am making you happy.”

Present Day

My cheeks felt so warm just thinking of that memory.

I had a strange feeling then, one that had become more common. A sort of joy in knowing that I was accepted for the parts of me that were less than ideal. Mother had always expressed that no one was interested in divergence from or anything less than perfect.

Is she wrong? Yes, and I needed to remember that.

Peter had helped me so much already to be able to understand the many times she had been unreasonable in her expectations.

I was learning that while being prim and proper was important, at times, ?it was also okay to be oneself–to show those who love you who you truly are.

I felt a beautiful safety when I was with Peter, a security that I had never felt at home nor with any other acquaintance or friend.

Perhaps, that is what it was that always drew me to him. He was not at all what I thought a prince would be—well, what my mother said a prince would be.

I still remembered that day when my mother said she had secured a position for me, reading to the Queen.

Usually, lords and ladies in our world did not work, but Mother said it was too good of an opportunity to give up.

She said that being close to the Queen would mean that I could find a better husband.

I never expected that I would be reading to the Prince .

I was so grateful I did. So grateful for those sparkling starlight eyes, his dazzling, gleeful grin, and his questions after my reading–the discussions that continued for hours, and all of the light he pressed into my soul–and how he slowly caused me to fall madly in love with him.

“Wendy? Gwendolyn? Do you hear me?” Michael was right beside me with a questioning look.

“Oh, sorry, I was thinking. I think I like you calling me Wendy. I used to hate it.”

“I understand why you hated it, John and I thought we were so clever with our teasing.”

“Yes, but now it’s endearing,” I said, trying to rid myself of my fears.

He took the teacup from my hand and smiled. “Are you afraid?”

“Until I am reunited with Peter, I will be afraid for him . While I do not think the pixies mean him harm, they do not understand humans and our needs. I have a feeling that he is well, but until I see him—”

Micheal placed his warm hand on my shoulder once more .

“You do not have to hide all your feelings. I know that Mother taught us to be strong and to never show weakness, but you do not have to do that with me, sister.”

“Is that what she did?” I questioned.

“Mother most likely did what she thought was best, although I do feel that she is a very prideful and selfish person. Perhaps, she was raised to be that way. Father is not like that, and although he is quiet and appears intimidating at times, I have learned that Father is actually rather shy. He doesn’t like confrontation.

He and Mother had an arranged marriage, you know. ”

“What? They did?” I was confused. “Father is shy ?”

“Yes, I know; it’s interesting to think about, right? She came from a noble family—royalty in her bloodline. Father was a lord, and they were matched and got married.”

“So, Mother and Father do not love each other?”

How would it feel to be married and not love the person you are with?

“I think they love some things about each other, but no , they do not have the kind of love that you feel for Peter. You are a great example to me, little sister. I shall find a love like the one you have found. I want better for my children than what we had.”

“I wish we had talked about this sooner,” I said.

“I do, too. Sorry for failing you, but I couldn’t take it. I had to escape our home.” He looked at the sea with regret on his face.

“You have not failed me, Michael. Thank you for being here for me, now,” I said with a smile, nudging him in his shoulder.

“Thank you, Wendy,” he said with a smile. We looked out over the sea for a while in silence.

“I miss him,” I whispered.

Michael pulled me into his arms. I do not know how long we stood there—how long Michael, the brother I had underestimated, held me, but I cried and convinced myself that he did not know about my tears.

There was a sort of healing in those tears, and a renewed hope that maybe I would have to distance myself from my mother; still, I could have a stronger and closer relationship with Michael in the future. That hope was bright.

“We are here!” Dominick said from the wheel of the ship.

Boats were lowered into the water with splashes after the anchor was dropped.

I pulled away from Michael, wiping away my tears.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Anytime. I am here for you. Let’s find Peter so you will no longer have to leave these wet spots on my jacket,” he said playfully. I poked his side, and he laughed. “I’m jesting, you know. If you ever need me, I am here.”

“I know, and that means so much to me. Truly,” I said.

“Okay, let’s go find your prince.”