Page 12 of The Healing Dragon (The Red Book #2)

He hands me a box of cookies I used to stock back in my summer house.

I hate these cream and chocolate concoctions, but if you asked my mother, she would have said I lived for them since we would go through boxes of these in a month.

The fact was that Janelle and Roman would consume about a sleeve of cookies each night. Disgusting.

“I need to get back to my post. Duelo makes a stop at his office every night after dinner.”

“Sounds good.” I wrap my cloak around my shoulders, covering the food in my arms.

I’m out of Oliver’s sight when he speaks again. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. If I had known, I would have done things differently.”

“That’s a sentiment I can relate to.”

There are countless things I would’ve done differently if I knew what lay ahead. Nevertheless, those will only ever be boundless wishes.

I leave Oliver and decide to explore the other side of the lower floor before going upstairs.

As I make my way back, I take extra care to be quiet while passing the formal dining room.

The door to the room is open and I can’t help but look inside.

Lord Duelo is at the head of the table. As always, the sour scowl on his face is ever present.

His wife is at his side and across from her is Janelle.

All three of them have plates and silverware in front of them, but Janelle’s plate is empty.

The sight is odd, as it’s also spotless.

Looks like I need to go back to the kitchens before heading back. We are going to need more sustenance to complete this mission.

The rest of the floor plan seems to include a small library and a couple of sitting rooms. The small library looks deserted, but I plan on stopping there the next day to check out the catalog. It might be too obvious, but I have to double check he didn’t decide to hide the book in plain sight.

I make my way back to Janelle’s room without having to cross paths with anyone else. I throw the cloak off my body and waste no time finishing one of the meals Oliver gave me.

Twenty minutes later, Janelle opens the door. Her eyes look droopy with tiredness and the bags under her eyes look darker than they did earlier today. She instantly finds the food I left for her on the bedside table.

“You need your sleep, so hurry to eat and we can get to bed,” I say.

“How did you know?” she asks as she sits on the edge of the bed with the container of food on her lap.

I shrug my shoulders. “I went exploring today.”

“What did you find?” She asks between bites.

“Oliver knows I’m here. I tried to get answers from him.”

Her eyes snap to me. “He spoke to you?”

“I figured since you seem to trust him so much I would give him a chance. He might prove useful.”

I am ready for her to ask more questions and dig but she doesn't. The narrow eye glare she shoots my way does tell me she knows I am not totally forthcoming with information.

I watch Janelle’s face for any intentions, but she’s too focused on her meal again. Her parents really sat her down at the dining table and denied her food. Looks like some things never change with them. Their forms of punishment have stayed the same over the years .

“He said he doesn’t know where the Red Book is, but in two days a meeting will take place. He thinks I should witness it.”

“I would like to keep him out of this as much as possible,” she says with a full mouth.

“You sure are protective of him. How come you never mentioned him before?” I ask.

“Oliver is nothing like my father. If their beliefs aligned, he wouldn’t have snuck in books to me growing up.” Her voice lowers, as if what she’s about to share is too embarrassing. “I don’t know how I could have survived without him.”

I sit up in realization. “He is the man that used to give you the books.”

“The same one,” she says.

The only clear memory of him being mentioned is when Janelle would tell me she got a new book from the man. She never said his name, elaborated on who he was or what relationship they had.

She loved those books. They were about adventure and action.

In every book, the lead was a young girl that saved the world from destruction with her bravery.

Janelle was obsessed with those books for a couple of summers.

She lent me one once but I was too ashamed to admit I never read it.

I never brought it up the following summer.

Janelle being vague with details regarding her life inside the Duelo home wasn’t odd.

She never said much. She said little about herself, but we all knew in one way or another that the silence was louder.

At least that’s how I see it now as an adult.

As a child, Janelle was simply a mystery.

The parts of herself she chose to share were enough to hook me deep into her gravity.

I can’t help but hate myself for not asking more.

If I knew, would I have been able to do anything?

“You were so obsessed with reading for a while.” A chuckle escapes my lips. I shift my attention to Janelle, and her eyes meet mine with a perplexed look, as if the sound is unfamiliar to her. “What happened to that?” I ask.

“I outgrew the stories. After all, they were just stories.”

“Stories that gave you hope,” I say.

She never belonged to me. Her soul being bound to someone else is enough proof of that.

“One day my father found the books Oliver was giving me. He was furious because this was physical proof of someone giving me something he did not approve of at all.”

“What happened?” I ask in a whisper.

Her eyes take a far away look. “My father went on a witch hunt. He never flat out blamed anyone but a sweet maid was fired soon after and tossed out.” Her eyes water but tears don't fall.

“I never truly felt guilt until that day. My father took the books, and I begged Oliver to never bring me more.”

I picture a little girl with fiery red hair crying over her books.

I picture her having misguided blame for her maid’s situation.

Her little heart felt the guilt, thinking she brought it on by reading a book.

Not understanding that the monster she has as a father is the root cause of all her misfortune.

“How did your friendship with Oliver come to be?” I ask, with ideas already circulating in my head.

“Oli’s mother’s name is Rosa. He says I remind him of her. Something about my eyes.”

I turn to look at Janelle’s eyes. I have seen them a hundred times, but as I lay eyes on her again, it finally dawned on me. Her eyes do, in fact, resemble Rosa’s.

“He never had children, but he always wanted one. His wife had been a loyal maid to my mother since childhood. He took a job as a soldier for my grandfather after marrying her. Sadly, she died a few years later from an illness.”

“Where did he come from?” I ask, already knowing the answer but fishing for pieces of this puzzle I don’t fully understand.

“He never told me,” she says, putting away her plate.

The ring of lies never sounds.

I cannot fathom why anyone would stay under the Duelo command unless absolutely needing to.

But as I watch Janelle get ready for bed, I know exactly why Oliver never left the Duelo estate, despite not agreeing with Lord Duelo.

I understand why he didn’t alert us to any conspiring whispers.

Oliver’s duty to do what is right will forever be second to the loyalty he has to her.

Would I have done any better in his place?

“We should go to sleep,” I say, and settle in for the night.

As we lay there side by side, I take a deep breath.

The sweet spring smell of Janelle fills my lungs.

Her soft breathing quiets down, reassuring me that she has drifted off to sleep.

It’s a relief that she didn’t complain about sharing a bed, but it’s not the first occurrence.

It’s unsettling how comfortable and correct this feels.

I wish I could despise her and eliminate these uncontrollable emotions I have towards her.

I am starting to believe that is impossible.

20 years ago

The sun is high in the sky. Brandon was recently announced as the next in line.

Mother has spent the day crying about it.

I’m not sure if it’s from happiness or sadness.

She looks at him like she pities him. Being the chosen one is a huge honor.

At least that is what Grandpa says. But that is not what it feels like when Mom congratulates Brandon with tears in her eyes.

She doesn’t really sound like she means it.

Brandon has said little about it. I doubt he has thought much about it. I never imagined myself being the chosen one because it’s too much responsibility. I might not know exactly what Grandpa does, but I know it’s a lot, and he always has to be busy. Brandon’s fate isn’t something I wish for.

“Is he excited about it?” Janelle asks me.

“Not exactly.”

She doesn’t ask me much about my family other than the antics my brothers and I get into.

We are pushing a small old canoe we found on the lake a few years ago.

We usually paddle to the middle of the lake and just sit back.

Alternating between eating, reading, and talking.

It’s always a peaceful day when we do this.

I spot the figure of Roman at the edge of the lake, waving his arms like crazy, but I ignore him, hoping he will go away.

“Isn’t that your brother?” Janelle asks me, but I don’t look. “He is swimming towards us.”

That makes me snap my head up. Sure enough, the monster is swimming laps toward us. Roman is a year older than me, but he had a growth spurt recently, leaving me a foot shorter than him.

I shake my head in disbelief. One day. That is what I wanted for myself. And Janelle, but she doesn’t count.

His head pokes to the side of the canoe as his fingers grab the edge.

“Careful before you tip us over.” I gesture for him to let go, but he doesn’t.

“Neither of you could hear me?” Roman looks between Janelle and me.

“We didn’t.” Her tone is sarcastic.

“Janelle Duelo,” my brother says her name with a knowing glint. “It’s nice to see you in daylight. I was beginning to think you were part vampire since you only sneak into my brother’s window when the sun has set and then leave before it rises again.”

“Are you some creepy peeker?” She crosses her arms.

“What?” his head shakes back and forth. “No!”

Janelle gives him her best chastising look. The edges of my mouth tilt up .

“I was just wondering why you two don’t invite anyone else.” He doesn’t wait for us to answer. “What do you guys do here?” He looks inside the canoe and scrunches his nose at the books.

“Today I am water painting,” Janelle tells us as she picks up her bag. She opens it and shows us all the supplies inside.

“It’s summer. Shouldn’t we be having fun?” Roman whines.

“This is fun.” She mocks, offended.

“Jesse?” His question comes with an over-enthusiastic head shake. “Let’s go jump from the swing dad tied to the tree branch.”

The idea sounds enticing, but it would take much more than that to persuade me to leave.

“I am right where I want to be.” At his outraced expression, I add, “We will paddle closer to the swing. We will score your jumps.”

With a smile only Roman Oscuro can muster, he turns toward the swing. “Let’s race there. If I win, you two have to join me eventually.”

He won that race and we eventually joined him in the lake. We swam until our skin wrinkled and the sun set. The laughter mixed with the sounds of the night.

Everything shifted that day. A new normal was created for us.

Every day that summer, Brandon found us after a long day of doing whatever his training intended.

We never talked about it per his request, but we helped him let loose and forget, even if it was just for a few hours every night.

When Janelle visited my room after that, Roman and Brandon would find themselves there, too.

The four of us spent countless hours together. However, even with them in the room, it never felt like she blended with them as she did with me.