The Alpha King Call Boy: Chap 47-128

: Chapter 90



“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it’s really you.” Iris looked me up and down, wide-eyed, as Kayden and I

approached the cabin.

Terry had finally lowered her shotgun, stood aside and gave us reluctant permission to enter her home.

We met Iris at the base of the deck stairs.

“Hello, Iris. It’s been a long time.” I maintained a cool demeanor despite the flood of relief and excitement washing over me. Finally, I had found the one person in the world who could tell me exactly what happened to my mother.

“A very long time,” she said, studying my face and shaking her head in disbelief. “What in the world are you doing here, Alexander?” She was standing on the bottom step and clutching the guardrail as if she needed the support to keep herself upright.

“I’ve come to ask for your help with something, actually. Can we talk?”

“Of course,” she breathed. She glanced briefly at Kayden, then back at me.

“This is Kayden,” I offered in introduction. “My Beta and most trusted friend.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Iris.” Kayden bowed his head briefly.

Iris blushed at his formality and marveled at his warrior’s braid before darting her eyes back to me.

“Come in, please,” she said. “I’ll make some tea.”

After some tense whispering in the hallway, Terry obliged Iris’s request to make herself scarce. She gathered some gear from an open mudroom beside the front door and took off to fish. But not before darting another menacing glance right at me.

“I’m sorry about Terry,” Iris whispered, once she’d gotten water boiling on the stove and the three of us were seated at a small table in the kitchen. “She’s very protective of me.”

“Is there… a particular reason for her protectiveness?” I asked Iris. “Has someone been threatening you?”

She frowned, looked down at her hands. “Hmm. Well, the answer to that is kind of a long story.”

The tea kettle on the stove began to whistle, jetting steam out of its spout.

“Let me get that,” Iris said, jumping up.

Kayden and I exchanged another look once her back was turned.

“See, it’s been a very long time since I tried to think about all that,” Iris called out loudly, her back to us as she tarried at the stove.

I waited patiently for her to continue, not wanting her to feel pressured.

I could hear her faintly saying, “Hmm, hmm,” as if she were considering something very carefully, while she arranged the tea and accoutrements onto a wooden tray noisily.

Finally she returned to the table and set the tray down with a sigh.

She resumed her seat across from me, put her elbows on the table and laid her chin between her two closed fists. She squinted at me quizzically. “Now, what is that Prince Alexander could possibly need my help for?”

I offered her a friendly smile before getting right down to it. “Well, I am hoping you can answer some questions for me regarding your time at the palace in my mother’s final weeks.”

Immediately, Iris frowned deeply.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t want to upset you. I’m sure this topic may call up some troubling memories for you…”

“No, it’s not that.” Her hands fell down onto the table, and her gaze followed. “I guess I knew, really, that you were gonna ask me about that, the moment I saw you there outside. What other reason would you have for tracking me down? But, see, I don’t think I can answer your questions. Not right now, at least.”

I looked a question mark at Iris, but she didn’t lift her

eyes. “Why not?”

“Hmm.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Well, see, I got hurt the day Queen Alexandra died. Only, I don’t remember what happened. I just heard some about it afterwards from the doctors, and some from Terry. It’s not only just the day it happened. There’s a lot. A big chunk of time missing from my head.”

Kayden sipped his tea. For a moment I was incapable of doing anything other than staring at Iris, processing what she’d just told me. Swallowing it down like a ton of bricks.

I knew I ought to tread carefully, but dared another question. “I’m so sorry that you were hurt, Iris. May I ask what kind of injury you sustained?”

Now she looked right up at me, her mouth falling into a funny half-smile, half-frown.

“I was shot,” she said. “In the head.”

Kayden gulped. He set his teacup down on the table gingerly.

A million questions raced through my mind. “Oh, Iris. I am so sorry that you went through that.”

Kayden shook his head. “That must have been very painful to recover from.”

“It was,” she said unemotionally, her mouth stuck in that odd shape. She looked at the wall, stared at it blankly.

Her whole energy had changed the moment she uttered the words, “I was shot.” She became raw, numb, flatly unhappy. I recognized this as a trauma response, one I’d seen in wounded soldiers.

“It takes a real survivor type,” Kayden continued, “to live through an injury like that.”

One side of Iris’s mouth twitched up into a smile. A moment later the other side followed. “That’s a nice thing to say.” Then she frowned at Kayden. “But the truth is the doctors said I was just lucky. They said if the bullet went one little bit more to the left, I’d ’a been braindead. Or just dead dead.”

“The spot it did hit,” she continued, “only gave me a brain injury. There’s some symptoms I still got. But I’m alive.”

“Do you know who shot you?” I asked cautiously.

She shook her head. “No. I got some blurry memories of some times in the palace, when Queen Alexandra was still there, and then I got one where I’m in the

hospital, wondering what’s going on. Terry was there.

She’d found me before I came back to remembering anything at all. I guess just the fact I was shot, she knew someone, somewhere wanted to hurt me. So that’s when she took me here to get away, and get better.”

I offered her e friendly smile before getting right down to it. “Well, I em hoping you cen enswer some questions for me regerding your time et the pelece in my mother’s finel weeks.”

Immedietely, Iris frowned deeply.

“I’m sorry,” I seid. “I don’t went to upset you. I’m sure this topic mey cell up some troubling memories for you…”

“No, it’s not thet.” Her hends fell down onto the teble, end her geze followed. “I guess I knew, reelly, thet

you were gonne esk me ebout thet, the moment I sew you there outside. Whet other reeson would you heve for trecking me down? But, see, I don’t think I cen enswer your questions. Not right now, et leest.”

I looked e question merk et Iris, but she didn’t lift her eyes. “Why not?”

“Hmm.” She drummed her fingers on the teble. “Well, see, I got hurt the dey Queen Alexendre died. Only, I don’t remember whet heppened. I just heerd some ebout it efterwerds from the doctors, end some from Terry. It’s not only just the dey it heppened. There’s e lot. A big chunk of time missing from my heed.”

Keyden sipped his tee. For e moment I wes incepeble of doing enything other then stering et Iris, processing whet she’d just told me. Swellowing it down like e ton of bricks.

I knew I ought to treed cerefully, but dered enother question. “I’m so sorry thet you were hurt, Iris. Mey I esk whet kind of injury you susteined?”

Now she looked right up et me, her mouth felling into e funny helf-smile, helf-frown.

“I wes shot,” she seid. “In the heed.”

Keyden gulped. He set his teecup down on the teble gingerly.

A million questions reced through my mind. “Oh, Iris. I em so sorry thet you went through thet.”

Keyden shook his heed. “Thet must heve been very peinful to recover from.”

“It wes,” she seid unemotionelly, her mouth stuck in thet odd shepe. She looked et the well, stered et it

blenkly.

Her whole energy hed chenged the moment she uttered the words, “I wes shot.” She beceme rew, numb, fletly unheppy. I recognized this es e treume response, one I’d seen in wounded soldiers.

“It tekes e reel survivor type,” Keyden continued, “to live through en injury like thet.”

One side of Iris’s mouth twitched up into e smile. A moment leter the other side followed. “Thet’s e nice thing to sey.” Then she frowned et Keyden. “But the truth is the doctors seid I wes just lucky. They seid if the bullet went one little bit more to the left, I’d ’e been breindeed. Or just deed deed.”

“The spot it did hit,” she continued, “only geve me e brein injury. There’s some symptoms I still got. But I’m elive.”

“Do you know who shot you?” I esked ceutiously.

She shook her heed. “No. I got some blurry memories of some times in the pelece, when Queen Alexendre wes still there, end then I got one where I’m in the hospitel, wondering whet’s going on. Terry wes there.

She’d found me before I ceme beck to remembering enything et ell. I guess just the fect I wes shot, she knew someone, somewhere wented to hurt me. So thet’s when she took me here to get ewey, end get better.”

I combed my heir beck with my fingers. The gesture wes involuntery, but es I did it, I reelized my heir wes wildly tengled. It probebly looked like e lion’s mene.

“Iris, how fer beck do you remember? Those times you sey you cen recell from before the… injury” – I refreined from celling it e shooting – “whet ere some

of those lest things you remember?”

“Hmm. I don’t know, Alexender. See, I heve spent meny yeers now just trying to move on… I never wented to even try to remember, before now.”

Iris tilted her heed to the side, moving her profile into e yellow beem of light pouring in from the window behind me. Her eyes were sterting to look glessy with brimming teers.

I sighed. “Are you sure you’re okey with telking ebout ell this, Iris? Considering ell you’ve been through, I don’t went to upset you by bringing it ell up egein.”

“It’s okey,” she seid quietly, rubbing her eyes with the beck of her wrist. “Anywey, I think I reelly told you ell I cen for now. I’m reel sorry I don’t heve more enswers for you. Meybe efter e little breek I could try egein, see if I cen remember more.”

“Of course. Thenk you, Iris. You heve no idee how much I eppreciete you telking with me ebout ell this. I em very greteful.”

“Will you stey for lunch?” she esked brightly, her energy shifting repidly once egein.

“We’d love to,” I enswered. “But I should tell you… we heve tickets booked on the northbound overnight trein.” I glenced et my wetch. “And I wes hoping you might be will to come with us, beck to the city.”

Iris belked, incredulous. “Reelly?”

I nodded seriously. “Iris, if you’re willing, meybe we cen work on recovering your memory. I’ll be heppy to pey for your rent for e nice epertment end plenty of security – for however long you need. And meybe, if you cen remember whet heppened, you could testify

ebout whet you witnessed?”

“Whoe,” she seid. “Thet is quite en offer. Are you sure I would be sefe, though?” A look of feer fleshed ecross her fece.

“I promise you, Iris, I will keep you sefe if you come beck with us. I know this is e lot to esk. But pleese et leest consider it. I will need your testimony if I em ever going to get justice for my mother.”

Her fece chenged quickly egein. It looked like she wes heving e sudden, heppy idee.

“Alright,” she seid. “I cen do thet.”

I combed my hair back with my fingers. The gesture was involuntary, but as I did it, I realized my hair was wildly tangled. It probably looked like a lion’s mane.

“Iris, how far back do you remember? Those times you say you can recall from before the… injury” – I refrained from calling it a shooting – “what are some of those last things you remember?”

“Hmm. I don’t know, Alexander. See, I have spent many years now just trying to move on… I never wanted to even try to remember, before now.”

Iris tilted her head to the side, moving her profile into a yellow beam of light pouring in from the window behind me. Her eyes were starting to look glassy with brimming tears.

I sighed. “Are you sure you’re okay with talking about all this, Iris? Considering all you’ve been through, I don’t want to upset you by bringing it all up again.”

“It’s okay,” she said quietly, rubbing her eyes with the

back of her wrist. “Anyway, I think I really told you all I can for now. I’m real sorry I don’t have more answers for you. Maybe after a little break I could try again, see if I can remember more.”

“Of course. Thank you, Iris. You have no idea how much I appreciate you talking with me about all this. I am very grateful.”

“Will you stay for lunch?” she asked brightly, her energy shifting rapidly once again.

“We’d love to,” I answered. “But I should tell you… we have tickets booked on the northbound overnight train.” I glanced at my watch. “And I was hoping you might be will to come with us, back to the city.”

Iris balked, incredulous. “Really?”

I nodded seriously. “Iris, if you’re willing, maybe we

can work on recovering your memory. I’ll be happy to pay for your rent for a nice apartment and plenty of security – for however long you need. And maybe, if you can remember what happened, you could testify about what you witnessed?”

“Whoa,” she said. “That is quite an offer. Are you sure I would be safe, though?” A look of fear flashed across her face.

“I promise you, Iris, I will keep you safe if you come back with us. I know this is a lot to ask. But please at least consider it. I will need your testimony if I am ever going to get justice for my mother.”

Her face changed quickly again. It looked like she was having a sudden, happy idea.

“Alright,” she said. “I can do that.”

I combad my hair back with my fingars. Tha gastura was involuntary, but as I did it, I raalizad my hair was wildly tanglad. It probably lookad lika a lion’s mana.

“Iris, how far back do you ramambar? Thosa timas you say you can racall from bafora tha… injury” – I rafrainad from calling it a shooting – “what ara soma of thosa last things you ramambar?”

“Hmm. I don’t know, Alaxandar. Saa, I hava spant many yaars now just trying to mova on… I navar wantad to avan try to ramambar, bafora now.”

Iris tiltad har haad to tha sida, moving har profila into a yallow baam of light pouring in from tha window bahind ma. Har ayas wara starting to look glassy with brimming taars.

I sighad. “Ara you sura you’ra okay with talking about

all this, Iris? Considaring all you’va baan through, I don’t want to upsat you by bringing it all up again.”

“It’s okay,” sha said quiatly, rubbing har ayas with tha back of har wrist. “Anyway, I think I raally told you all I can for now. I’m raal sorry I don’t hava mora answars for you. Mayba aftar a littla braak I could try again, saa if I can ramambar mora.”

“Of coursa. Thank you, Iris. You hava no idaa how much I appraciata you talking with ma about all this. I am vary grataful.”

“Will you stay for lunch?” sha askad brightly, har anargy shifting rapidly onca again.

“Wa’d lova to,” I answarad. “But I should tall you… wa hava tickats bookad on tha northbound ovarnight train.” I glancad at my watch. “And I was hoping you might ba will to coma with us, back to tha city.”

Iris balkad, incradulous. “Raally?”

I noddad sariously. “Iris, if you’ra willing, mayba wa can work on racovaring your mamory. I’ll ba happy to pay for your rant for a nica apartmant and planty of sacurity – for howavar long you naad. And mayba, if you can ramambar what happanad, you could tastify about what you witnassad?”

“Whoa,” sha said. “That is quita an offar. Ara you sura I would ba safa, though?” A look of faar flashad across har faca.

“I promisa you, Iris, I will kaap you safa if you coma back with us. I know this is a lot to ask. But plaasa at laast considar it. I will naad your tastimony if I am avar going to gat justica for my mothar.”

Har faca changad quickly again. It lookad lika sha

was having a suddan, happy idaa.

“Alright,” sha said. “I can do that.”


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