Page 24 of The Healing Dragon (The Red Book #2)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

JANELLE

T he front door of the nursery makes a loud creaking noise as the wooden door swings open.

Isabel and I stop our process of repotting plants and look behind us.

The visitors are easy to spot as they tower over the majority of the greenery around us.

Roman’s steps echo as he crosses the room.

The loud sound makes me wince. I cannot believe the old man that ran the nursery never thought of doing something about that.

The slightest noise echoes in the space. It has been driving me crazy.

Roman and a soldier approach us with easy smiles.

As always, the Royal Force general only has eyes for the woman standing beside me.

His companion just gives us polite nods.

His face looks familiar, but I can’t quite recall from where until he crosses his arms. I remember him from my last day in this castle after the attack.

He is the one who walked me out and into the forest.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Roman says to Isabel, pulling her into a hug.

The two talk to each other in hush tones. I resume my task of repotting the plants, trying to ignore the company in the room.

“I will be right back,” Isabel tells me, then moves to the small office at the back of the nursery.

Roman looks around, but not even a minute later, he clears his throat. “You weren’t at lunch today,” he says.

I don’t stop what I’m doing. “I wasn’t hungry,” I lie.

The thought of going there alone and crossing paths with people who wish me gone isn’t something I wish to do twice in one day.

I’m not afraid of the stares, but I’m not mentally ready to face them.

Isabel has lunch with Brandon in his suite and joining her was out of the question.

It’s not like I was offered an invitation.

“You could use some food.”

I shoot him an unamused look.

“Sorry, well, while we are stuck here, we might as well talk.” He shrugs.

I grunt.

“How was the trip back?” he asks.

“Are you seriously making small talk?” I give him a side eye.

He scratches his head and shoots his friend a look to help him, but the soldier remains out of it. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank you for bringing Matias home. Some might not be happy that you chose him over the Red Book, but some of us wouldn’t have done it any differently.”

Does Matias know how much these people want him to be a part of them?

“I’m sure that is not the real reason everyone here hates me.” Choosing Matias is the only right thing I’ve done in a while.

“Not all of us hate you, Janelle. ”

I meet his eyes. “It doesn't make a difference. I am here now and I have work to do.”

“I can acknowledge the role you played was forced on you.” He clears his throat completely ignoring my attempts to end the conversation.

I think back on every time I tried to speak up to my father. How I lower my head and move out of his sight. I could’ve done so much more if I had tried harder. If I wasn’t such a coward. Shame washes over me.

Coward .

I sigh, already growing tired of this conversation. “I am living with the consequences of my actions, Roman. That includes all the rightful hate directed my way.”

There is much more I wish I could say but the words get stuck in my throat.

Roman’s eyes look at me as if he finally sees something he was looking for. His eyes don’t see me, but through me. The slow smile on his lips hints at getting something I don’t, a secret of some sort.

“Well, that explains why my brother is so in love with you. You two are just as critical of yourselves.”

At the mention of Jesse, I straighten. Roman crosses his arms and looks at me expectantly.

“Is he still on that?” I try to sound casual. “He needs to get over that silly crush.”

Roman laughs lightly. “I almost believed you.” I give him my back to pick up another plant to repot. “If it wasn’t because I’ve been watching you like a hawk. I would’ve missed the longing looks you give him when you think no one is watching.”

“That is all very creepy. If you are crushing on me too, I will have to break your heart.”

He pretends I didn’t speak. “That was just recently. I watched it before too. Every time you had the opportunity, the two of you would share giggles and small remarks. I never bought the best friend title.” Roman’s grin drops.

“That was a placeholder for you two to grow up first. Then your father became a very obvious road block.”

“I need to get back to work,” I say.

“You two are adults and your father isn’t around to tell you what to do.” His words land in the space between us like heavy stones.

He clears his throat as Isabel returns with a small basket of herbs. He kisses her cheek, then shares goodbyes before departing with his friend.

I continue to work in silence. My mind can’t help but think about the memories of a past full of hope for a future. As I sit here in the future I once imagined, there is no trace of hope left within me.

I close my eyes and remember the smiles.

The stolen moments. The childlike crush I had on Jesse and how that grew as we did.

Stolen smiles became stolen kisses. He was my first everything, including my first secret.

The first time I dared disobey my father’s orders.

Then from there on, only more and more questions rose out of me.

Even when I was told to stay away from Jesse, like magnets, we always gravitated toward each other.

I appreciate the silent nature of Isabel today more than ever.

I never got to interact with her before, but, as a fly on the wall, she was always around in one capacity or another.

Her younger sister is someone else I always watched around the Oscuro boys.

When Isabel became Brandon’s assistant, I wasn’t surprised.

She knows far more than she says and there is something amazing about that.

Hours pass us as we go from task to task. I’m tempted to ask her if some background music is out of the question, but interrupting this flow feels wrong. This is the first time being with my thoughts feels peaceful. The labor feels near therapeutic.

“We’re almost done for today,” Isabel says as we complete a row of plants. “I will be right back.” She gestures with her index finger to give her a minute.

Isabel returns and hands me a basket filled with bags. Each bag has a bundle of leaves we cut down earlier today. Isabel mixed and arranged them into small portions, sealing them in baggies.

“I need to tend to Brandon. Can you please deliver half of the bags to the kitchen and the other bags to the clinic?” She puts on a cardigan.

I look tired and dirty. Isabel, on the other hand, just puts on a cardigan and brushes out her straight hair and she is fresh as a daisy.

I clean my hands on my apron and grab the basket as I leave the nursery.

The halls are much quieter in the middle of the day.

Lunch was a couple of hours ago. I begin to regret not venturing out to the dining hall when my stomach growled.

Luckily, I have to make a stop in the kitchen. I might as well take some food to go.

Although the kitchens are on the same floor as the food hall, I have to navigate through the outside corridors in order to reach the entrance.

I spot Matias outside in the gardens from a hallway window.

He isn’t sitting alone, which catches my attention when I realize the girl next to him isn’t Bianca.

I step up to the window to take a closer look.

Alejandra sits on the same bench a few feet apart.

They are both looking forward as if to appear like they aren’t together.

I see Matia's lips move and after a beat Alejandra’s do. I’m leaning against the wall trying not to be caught blatantly staring at them. The conversation continues, but they never make eye contact. Their eyes remain forward the whole time.

“Nosy dragon,” an older lady says under her breath as she passes by.

I straighten at the jab. Alright, I think that’s enough curiosity.

I attempt to deliver the bags twice to different staff but each time I am redirected to a man named Pad. The name is said to me as if I should know exactly who they’re talking about. I make my way to the back of the building and find a set of doors that I have never seen before.

“There you are.” A big man with an apron approaches me and takes the basket from my hands. “I heard you were looking for me,” he says.

There’s something familiar about him.

“Is your name Pad?” I ask.

“The one and only.” He pauses his perusal of the basket to look at me. “You should use the back hall to get to this part of the kitchen. You will rarely find me at the front.”

“I will keep that in mind,” I say.

I take a turn about the room. The kitchen is bigger than I expected, but I guess it takes a lot of space to make enough food to feed the entire castle. The only two people in the kitchen are me and the man across the prep table, picking bags from the basket.

“Isabel is an angel.” He grins down at me. “She knows exactly what to send every time.”

“She is taken, I’m afraid,” I say.

His laughter rings in the empty room. I stop my observation of all the items on the tables before turning my attention back to the space.

“Are you looking for something?” He asks .

I’m about to tell him no when my stomach makes an angry noise.

“Hungry, huh?” he asks.

“I skipped lunch.”

“Why would you ever do that?” He looks appalled at my decision.

“It’s not that easy,” I say without thinking.

I regret the words as soon as they come out. I have no business telling this man my problems. But I don’t have to explain myself. A look of understanding passes through his face. He knows.

He moves to the side of the kitchen and pulls out a packet of bread. From under the table, he pulls a container of butter and jelly. As if materializing out of thin air, an apple and some water make it before me.