Elena's P.O.V.
"Francis! You're a dead man, you hear me? Dead!" I shouted the moment I stepped into the main room of the theater.
The chuckle of the old man echoed through the empty building, but I could've sworn that I heard other voices as well. "Why, dear Elena, what a surprise it is to see you again! How are you, darling?" He smiled, standing in front of the scene with an amused expression.
"I'm pissed, irritated, annoyed, mad, angry-"
"Those are all synonyms, my child," he cut me off, receiving a glare filled with daggers in return.
If I didn't know better, I would say that he was a monk version of Hazel.
"Why didn't you tell me that Ethan was actually a prince? Do you know how much of a fool I made out of myself?" My voice was firm as a mountain, yet, he burst out laughing, not even glancing at the warning tone. "It's not funny!"
"Of course, it is!" Francis laughed, taking off his glasses to wipe the tears of joy off them.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, gesturing him my impatient look that I was waiting for an answer - and it sure as hell should be a damn good one too.
The monk smiled. "Well, I thought you could figure it out by yourself, so you will learn that not all people are serial killers."
"I was stuck in a tree with that idiot for an hour because of a damn, hungry wolf!" Francis tried to cover his laughter but failed miserably. "Oh, for Claus' sake, I didn't come here this early to be laughed at." And then I began to walk away with a choked groan.
"Elena! Wait, dearie!" He caught up to me, his smiling lines drawn all over his old features. "Stay, I will not laugh anymore, I promise."
I narrowed my eyes, well-known over the fact that the promise would be broken faster than a clumsy person surrounded by plates. "Fine, but if I hear as much as a giggle from you, I will leave and find someone else to be with."
"Like who? Prince Ethan?"
At this point, I wanted to scream at him for the torturous teasing he was putting me in. "I've said this before, and I will say it again: if murder wasn't illegal, I would've killed you a long time ago." My threat seemed to be a joke in the ears of a chuckling Francis.
"You are not a morning person, are you?" He said with a smile around his words, which I answered with a dead look. "Why are you even here this early? You usually come at afternoon."
"I had a doctor's appointment."
"And?"
I sighed, "The original plan was that I could take this off on Saturday," I held up my bandaged arm. "But due to the event that His Majesty and I had been in, it's delayed to God knows when."
For the first time ever this day, he did not laugh. "And whose fault is that?" He pulled his glasses down to look at me with his silver orbs.
With a small glare thrown his way, I answered, "Not mine, that's for sure."
Frans' brow arched high in the air. "Instead of blaming the wolf and Prince Ethan for your broken arm, you should have followed your doctor's orders." He suddenly held up one of the many papers Doctor Lee had written to me, which I had lost a countless of times.
When did I bring that here?
"Are you seriously defending a bloodthirsty animal that tried to kill me, and my stalker? Again?" Guess who will not be my lawyer when I get into trouble with the law.
"For the millionth time, I am not a stalker!" An unexpected person decided to join the conversation, and my entire body froze at the familiar voice, almost like my muscles had turned to ice.
One day, I will kick the universe so hard that it will have to expedite doomsday.
I looked briefly at Francis. Traitor.
Before I could look for the annoying source, His Majesty himself came out of his hiding place by the red, old seats. When seeing my mixed expressions, his face turned into a boyish grin, something that made him look like a little kid, heck, he looked like the kazoo kid.
But that grin didn't live long and was soon wiped off by a curly-haired boy named Lorenzò. "You will have to forgive our stupid friend here," he patted Ethan's shoulder. "He just doesn't understand how to act towards new people, so that's why he stalks them instead."
"Please," the third and last one spoke, coming out from the same hiding spot. "Our Prince does more than stalking."
"Can you guys shut up?" Ethan exchanged his look of annoyance between his laughing friends. "I don't stalk nor do anything beyond that, Elena, don't worry, these morons are just being idiots."
I looked away from the tall boy's brown eyes and met the colorless ones instead. "Why do you enjoy embarrassing me?" Francis shook his head in laughter, patting my back as to tell me that he was 'sorry not sorry'.
"If there is anyone who should be embarrassed, then it is Prince Charming over here." The Hispanic boy placed his hand on the shoulder of his royal friend who shrugged it off as quickly as it came.
Blondie rolled his eyes and let out a tired sigh, and instead of stopping their cat-fight, he approached me with an extended hand. "I'm Conner, it's a pleasure to finally meet the one who outran, and knocked me down with carpets." He gave me a polite smile, looking like he was trying to ease off the awkward air he felt around me.
I shrugged my shoulders. "To be fair, you were in my way."
Conner shook his head in a brief chuckle, nodding to my words, "True that."
Lorenzò scratched the back of his neck when our eyes met. "And we have. . . sorta met," he winced at the end of his sentence.
I feel you, I wanted to tell him and reveal how thick the tension between us actually was, but I knew that it would have been a regretful choice of words.
However, I managed to settle down on the right path with light feet. "But we never shook hands, so technically, we have not met," I stated matter-of-factly, using my words as a shovel to bury the awkwardness in a casket.
He nodded with his face breaking into a smile. "You're right, Sabio uno," he half spoke in English and Spanish. "I'm Lorenzò, the greatest, it's an honor to finally meet the girl who kicks like a ninja, and makes Ethan's brain work again."
Francis held a hand over his smiling lips, trying to cover up the amused expression written across his face, but the wrinkles around his eyes betrayed him.
"He has a brain?" I replied, and His Majesty rolled his eyes and scoffed with crossed arms.
Ethan laughed sarcastically, "Ha, ha." His face was not amused, and his expression dropped in a dead look. "Not funny."
"It speaks," I continued.
"Elena," Francis had a loud warning tone in his voice, and he looked at me with his glasses pulled down to the bridge of his nose.
I shrugged my shoulders, "What?"
"Be nice to Prince Ethan, dearie, he means no harm." The old monk spoke, patting my shoulder with a light touch.
"Except for stalking me."
"I'm not a stalker!" To be honest, I have lost the count of times he has said that phrase. It seems like he will never give up unless he stops breathing.
Well, that could be arranged.
Francis gave me a stern look, telling me to act nicely as if I was a child. "Fine, I'll stop," I directed my attention to Prince Ethan, "For now."
His Majesty rolled his eyes, but nonetheless, nodded happily to my promise that was soon to be broken. "I would've said that it was a pleasure to meet you again, but in this moment, I'm not so sure." He spoke the words that almost made me reply with my famous comments, but I managed to bite some of it back.
"For your information, Your Royal Highness," I took a step forward to the three tall frames that stood as tall as the skyscrapers in New York. "I am actually here to meet Francis, not you, so in that case; the feeling is quite mutual."
The monk cleared his throat, something that made our attentions turn towards the wise mind with the experience of two lifetimes. "Elena, darling," he said in a tone so soft that I was wondering if his words were walking on eggshells.
Oh, no, I'm not going to like this, am I?
"I am unfortunate to inform you that I cannot keep the lesson for today, after all," his eyes looked apologetically, and his words made my shoulders slump to the soil.
My face dropped into the ocean of disappointment. "But. . . why?" I childishly whined, stepping forward to the man with the talent of music. "I even came earlier so we could have more time."
He sighed. "I know, child, but my hands are tied for now," he placed his hand on my shoulder. "We shall continue this another day, okay?"
"No," I complained, which earned me another stern look from the monk who placed his glasses on the lower bridge of his nose. "Fine," the groan that lingered through the word didn't go unnoticed, but at least it was enough of an answer for Francis.
"Good," he offered me a smile and directed his eyes toward the three boys, confusion evident across their faces. "Your Highness," Francis nodded and did a little bow to Ethan, "It was an honor to meet you, Your Majesty."
The brown-haired boy's smile matched his eyes. "The pleasure is on my side, and please, call me Ethan, there's no need for such formalities."
To be honest, I found their exchanged words quite weird - it was so old fashioned and it would often surprise me for a split second. But then again, this is the 16th century, what else did I really expect?
Francis nodded to the prince's words and turned to his friends. "It was a pleasure to meet you too, gentlemen."
"Thank you for having us here," Conner gave a polite smile before he nudged Lorenzò with his elbow.
"Yes, and for not throwing us out." His blonde-haired friend closed his eyes as if an invincible hand had face-palmed him.
Wow, it mirrors the same expression Hazel makes when I say something, in her words, 'stupid'.
Francis only chuckled at the curly-haired boy's statement - something I also had thought about when I first came here. "And Elena," his gray brows arched high in the air, almost touching the holed ceiling. "Be nice."
'Be nice'. Thank you, Francis, I really appreciate your kind words.
"Farewell, children!" And with that said, we left the waving monk in the theater.
The morning air hugged my body when I stepped out of the building, and it was followed by a little chill running down my spine. As I looked behind me, I became unsure of what I should do now that the lesson with Francis was canceled.
This is why I hate mornings, you wake up early to do nothing until the night hits the day.
"Well, he was nice," Lorenzò commented, making me look at him to nod in agreement.
"He is, and is also much nicer than a certain stalker with a royal title," I threw a glance at Prince Ethan, who in return rolled his brown orbs dramatically.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a goddamn stalker?" He sighed and gave me an annoyed glare.
"Until you're dead and can no longer speak."
"That's cold," Conner chimed in.
"But hilarious," Lorenzò nudged his blonde friend in protest.
I turned my head towards them, feeling a bit weirded out by the fact that I was surrounded by the people who I had been hiding and running away from. However, it did not hold the crown of the strangest thing that has happened to me.
Time traveling made sure to have that crown glued to its head a long time ago.
Ethan shook his head, ignoring his friends and my cheeky smile. "Is there any chance for me to change the way you think of me?" He looked down at me, trying to see what my eyes held, but they did not betray me.
"Hmm. . ." I tapped my finger over my wine-red lips. "No," his dead expression made me laugh curtly, but soon died due to the new words filling my mouth. "But it would help if you explained why you and your friends broke yourselves into the theater a couple of days ago."
Of course, even if he did explain, I would still continue to call him a stalker - it's just too much fun and I can certainly not stop now.
All the three guys' brows were knitted in confusion, their expressions were puzzled in a bigger mess than a child surrounded with paint colors.
"What are you talking about?" Ethan was the first one to speak the lingering question.
I narrowed my eyes at him, walking down the alley with the three of them following my steps. "Somebody, with the help of his companions, made a visit to the theater late at night - it was just the day before your friends ganged me up."
"You know, I still have a bruise from that evening," Lorenzò's eyes gestured to the back of his knee, and I winced apologetically when I saw the faint limp.
"To be fair, I said I was sorry."
"Wait, hold on for a second," Ethan stopped the conversation between me and his curly-haired friend. "You heard someone breaking themselves into the theater?"
I broke the eye-contact to shake my head. "No, I was home at that time," I reattached our meeting orbs. "It was Francis who told me about it."
"And he's completely sure that someone was there?" Conner asked, his sky blue eyes squinting ever so slightly.
"Frans is not a person who makes such things up," I defended the monk, shaking off the memory of Francis' explanation of how he knew about me time traveling. "And I also know that it was the three of you behind that break-in that night," I pointed my finger accusingly at their tall frames.
Lorenzò was the first one to answer, "But, mi señora." He shook his head, making his curly hair fly up and down like they were jumping on a trampoline. "It wasn't us."
My eyes almost did a roll, but I managed to hold back the action by continuing to walk. "You can stop acting now, I know it was you."
"We have never visited that theater, not before now, on this very own day," Conner spoke with a voice that, somehow, filled the words with intelligence.
"What?" I turned around to look at him. "So, none of you. . ."
They shook their heads and unknowingly threw me into another sea of questions.
Great, just what I needed. Another Bible of query, heck, I won't be surprised if I have all the holy books stored in my mind by the time I fill seventeen.
"I could always send someone there to keep watch and figure it out if you want to." Ethan offered, his eyes looking at the theater that was soon out of our sights.
"That won't be necessary, Your Highness," although he actually is a prince, it still doesn't stop my sarcastic tone to fill the words.
"Don't do that."
"Do what, Your Majesty?"
"That!" He pointed at my smirking face.
"Wait, what are you even doing in the theater?" Lorenzò suddenly asked, breaking the mini-fight between the royal prince and me.
My eyes narrowed in a small line, "Something."
"Francis said something about lessons," Conner looked at me with his blue orbs. "What kind of lessons?"
"He's training me up to become a monk," I answered with an invisible sarcasm filing my words.
"Don't you mean a nun?" He asked, his face painted in a light shade of perplex.
"No, a monk," I repeated with my statement firmer this time, almost making it believable - but if you listened carefully enough, you would find the unmoved sarcasm dripping from my mouth.
The blonde-haired boy was about to continue his 'wisdom of speech', but was beaten by Lorenzò using his words first. "Conner, if the girl wants to be a monk, let her be. After all, acceptance is the key to be truly free."
What?
"Did you just quote Katy Perry?" I asked, looking at him with eyes blinking slowly like a sloth. His curly hair jumped at the turn of his head when he glanced at me.
He shrugged his shoulders, handing me a folded paper. "I don't know who Lady Perry is, but I found her poem quite fascinating."
My face broke into puzzlement, but it soon disappeared when I realized that he had quoted Unconditionally from the song sheet that lay in my hands.
Oh, God. . . How many of these have I lost? Double God, how many more were there around this place?
"Let me see," Ethan was about to take the paper from my hands, but I was faster and hid it behind my back.
I shook my head, "No," he gave me a confused look mixed with suspicion. "It's nothing," I tried to lie, but as we all know, I'm not - as Francis says it - 'a child of lies'.
"Wait, it's yours?" Lorenzò asked with a hint of surprise. "Who knew that the mysterious girl is into poetry," he mused, but Ethan shook his head.
"No, I don't think it's poetry she's hiding," His Majesty slowly stated, making me copy his narrowed eyes with my own orbs. "What's really behind your back, Elena?"
A nervous chuckle escaped my lips, "None of your damn business, that's for sure."
"Has that paper anything to do with the lessons Francis was talking about?"
Damn you, Conner and your logical thinking!
I sucked in a sharp breath, "No." My voice betrayed me with a high tone, which made me flinch because of to the weakness hiding behind the word.
This is why sarcasm is my best defense to avoid unwanted questions. At least I know how to use it - perhaps too well for my own good.
"I want to see that paper," Ethan took a step forward, making me take one back with a shake of my head.
"And I want to see you jump into a volcano, but we can't always get what we want, now can we?" I retorted while backing up to give myself more time and space to run.
If it comes to that point, of course, which I am certain it does.
"I think she's going to run," Lorenzò whispered to his friends, almost like he had read my thoughts.
"I'm not going to go after her, so good luck to the two of you," Conner patted the shoulders to the tall frames that stood on each side of him.
"Elena," Ethan said in a dangerous tone. "Give me that paper."
"Your Majesty," I mirrored his warning volume. "The lava is waiting for you."
"I will have that paper," he continued, pointing behind my back to where my entire secrets are hidden.
Okay, maybe not all my secrets, but. . . you get my point.
A slow smirk grew little by little, painting every inch of my face like a masquerade mask. "Then you've got to catch me," and with that said, I sprinted off.
"Give me that paper!"
"I told you she would run," I heard Lorenzò's voice behind me, which was soon followed by the sound of running footsteps.
"Good luck!" Conner shouted to his friends, and I briefly looked back to see him standing his ground, not bothered to run after me like these two idiots.
Well, at least someone here knows how to use their brain, I quickly averted my attention forward again, not wanting to stumble over my own feet. There is no way in hell that I'm going to do that again.
"Elena!" Ethan's voice shouted after me when we reached the end of the alley, his voice not too far behind.
"Give it up already!" I yelled back, jumping over a bucket filled with fertilizer that hit my nose. "You're not getting this." My hand waved the paper that lay between my fingers.
The feeling of him glaring bore in the back of my head like a drill, "Watch me!"
A smile tugged on my lips, Pfft, watch me kick your ass instead, Prince Ethan.
Villager after villager, I ran past them, luckily avoiding to bump into most of them and their ways. Some of them even stopped to look at what was happening, but I ignored them as my mind was set on to get to Aria's house.
But there was this tiny, little, itsy-bitsy problem about this plan; I had no idea where it was.
Good job, Elena, you deserve a medal for your amazing thinking, I mentally patted my back with a bowl filled with sarcasm.
However, after running in a random direction, I found myself on a beautiful meadow, surrounded by grass with the deepest and strongest color of green, which had me wondering if someone dyed it to look this way.
Mother Nature, do I love your creations.
If I hadn't been chased by a certain, stupid and slow prince, I would've stopped and enjoyed this beautiful view of nature. Well, at least I can comfort myself with the fact that Ethan was not getting this paper.
I turned my head to look at His Royal Highness, who was, unsurprisingly, far behind me with Lorenzò on his heels, "Ha! Is that the best you've got?" I teased with a smirk drawn on my lips.
But that little paint of glee on my face was soon washed off when His Majesty stopped in his tracks, Lorenzò following the suit. Both of them carried matching, cheeky smiles written on their lips.
Their actions made me stop running, and all I could do was to stare at them with a puzzled look.
What the heck was happening to them?
That question was soon answered when the sound of a galloping horse broke me out of my thoughts. I turned my head to see Conner riding a dark-chocolate colored stallion, which made me breathe out in defeat.
There is no way I can beat a horse in a race. Dammit. Well, I could always eat the paper. . . It was tempting, but no thank you.
"You know, this is very unfair," I said to the blonde-haired boy who got off his horse.
Conner gave me an apologetical smile, "Hey, at least you run faster than those two morons." He pointed at his heavy breathing friends, who in return, narrowed their eyes in a small glare.
"Damn, how are you not dying?" Lorenzò asked through his heavy breathing, bent over his knees and looking at me with his honey-brown eyes.
I shrugged my shoulders, not trusting my voice and myself to lie with words. If they're going to find out about me singing, then the least thing I want to keep a secret is my passion for soccer.
"Now that I caught you," Ethan said, his chest rising up and down ever so slightly. "You must keep your part of the deal."
"No, you didn't catch me, I just stopped because I actually have better things to do than-" I gestured my hands to this chase, "-This."
"Give me that paper," and then the sheet was taken from me.
Great, I just got mugged.
"It's a song?" Ethan mumbled loudly in a bewildered state, looking at me with his brown orbs dipped in curiosity. "You sing," it was more of a statement than a question.
"Pfft, no." Once again, my voice betrayed me. "I just. . . collect songs."
Really? 'Collect songs'?
His Majesty arched an eyebrow, seeing right through my poor lie that none of them bit to.
One day, I will take those lying lessons Hazel once recommended me.
"Wait," Conner looked up from the paper and let his eyes land on his Hispanic friend. "Why did you think this was poetry? How could you not see that this is a song?" His face was puzzled into a look that translated; 'are-you-stupid', which was sharply aimed towards Lorenzò.
"It rhymed like a poem," the curly-haired boy defended himself, looking at the paper that Conner was now holding.
"Since when did poems have notes written all over it?" He slapped the song sheet with his free hand, gesturing to the inked music on the paper.
Lorenzò shrugged his shoulders, "I thought it was some new design artists use these days."
A smile tugged on my lips at the amused scene that folded itself in front of me. However, I was quickly snapped out of it by His Royal Highness.
"So, you go to Francis to take singing lessons?" Ethan looked at me with curiosity filling his warm orbs.
"No," I shook my head in a brief laugh. "He's teaching me to play the piano better, but of course, I can't do much with a broken arm." My eyes traveled to the bandaged limb that rested on my side.
He looked down at me with his eyes squinted in a thin line. "So, that means that you're a singer, right?" Little by little, a smile painted itself on his face, making both of his friends stop fighting their argument.
"Unless I'm Beyoncé, I'm not a singer." Was my response, which was received with perplexed expressions.
"Who is Beyoncé?" Lorenzò asked one of the most depressing questions I've ever heard in my life.
"The Queen," I stated matter-of-factly with a cross of my arms.
All of them shared a look of confusion, "I've never heard of a Queen Beyoncé before, but maybe she's from the Southern Kingdoms?" Conner's words almost made me laugh, but I managed to silence it.
"But you still sing, don't you?" Ethan made the topic bounce back to me, and I mentally hit him for ruining my chance to escape these questions. "Or how else would you know that Lorenzò quoted from this song?" He held the paper in front of my face.
"I just. . . did," even I flinched at the sound of my voice. At this point, I knew it was hopeless to deny his statements, which made a mix of a groan and a sigh escape my lips. "Fine!" I said, giving him an annoyed glare, "I sing."
A smile stretched over his strong features. "I knew it," he said with an unnecessarily pride in his voice. "You're a musician."
"Who also plays soccer and run almost as fast a horse," Lorenzò added, and I snapped my head towards him.
How did they- you know what, the universe has no justice system!
"Surely, I must hear you sing one day," my attention turned back to Ethan, who held a smirk steadier than the mountain that was located far behind the village.
I snorted with a laughter that followed. "The day you hear me sing is the day I cannot finish a song," I took a step towards him, my arms still crossed in a strong lock. "Which will never happen," and then I stepped back.
"We'll see about that," His Majesty challenged.
Before I could throw another of my infamous comments back, a loud and deep voice boomed across the field, literally killing the silence of nature.
"Ethan!" I turned my head to see an old man yelling at the prince, who - with his friends - had their bodies in a lock of frozen terror. Their eyes were widened in fear, which made me both curious, yet, afraid.
"Who is that?" I asked, looking at the bald man who was riding a brown horse towards us.
Why does he look so awfully familiar? My eyes squinted in an attempt to see him better, but he was too far away.
"We need to go!" Conner spoke in a hurried tone, climbing up on the horse.
"I got it," Lorenzò put two of his fingers in his mouth, whistling loudly across the entire field, heck, I wouldn't be surprised if a dog went deaf.
My head turned between the three of them with confusion written with big capitals all over my face. "Can someone explain what the heck-" I never got the chance to finish my sentence due to two horses - one white as snow and one with the color of the sun - ran towards us from the opposite side of where the old man was coming from.
They were magnificent creatures, sprinting like cheetahs, but having the peaceful aura like a flying dove.
Damn, now I miss riding horses. . .
"Guys, speed up!" Conner rushed us when the tall stallions reached its owners, all of them having matching saddles with the color of the night.
Lorenzò swung himself on the sun-like horse, running along with his blonde-haired friend that was racing the wind.
I had no idea what the heck was happening, or if I would survive for that matter. Oh, I'm going to die, aren't I?
"Come on!" Ethan sat high on his white horse, the beautiful animal sensing the rush of the situation. "Take my hand," he stretched out his palm as my eyes met his urging orbs.
Most children learn to never sit in a stranger's car, right? Well, what if this 'car' is actually a horse, what do I do then?
I looked at the old man that was nearing us, his shouts of threats getting closer with each step his stallion ran with. Then my attention averted to the prince, his body tensed up by stressing out so much with the time passing by.
"I don't bite," he offered me a smile, which was transparent like glass. His forced beam made me even more nervous, and I threw one look behind my shoulder.
"Oh, screw it," I quickly hooked my hand with his palm in a tight lock.
He swiftly pulled me from the green grass, giving me a brief smile that quickly disappeared due to the urging situation.
Not a second later, I found myself sitting behind him with the horse bolting forward like a bullet, which made my arms automatically lock themselves around his waist in a tight grip.
This feels kinda awkward. . .
"I knew you would give in," Ethan's words were filled with smiles, something that made me roll my eyes with an annoyed sigh falling out of my lips.
"Just shut up and ride."
He chuckled, "As you wish, My Lady." With a cry of command, the horse's pace quickened like a lightning hitting the ground.
My hair flew behind me like a running water in a steam. The wind hit us in the same way as a rollercoaster would, and it felt like the hood around my shoulders was about to be ripped off my body.
I looked behind my shoulder - past the flying clothing - to see that the old man was now far, far behind us. "Why are you running away from him?" My head turned forward again, hoping that he could hear me through the heavy wind.
"We are running away from him because he's my teacher," Ethan explained poorly, leaving me to put the pieces together.
Then it hit me. "You skipped school, didn't you?" I could see the side of his face erupting into a guilty smile.
"Well," he dragged the 'E' before ending the beginning of his answer. "Kinda."
I shook my head, "Seriously, don't you have better things to do than stalking me?"
He groaned in annoyance, "I am not a stalker!"
And here we go again. . .