"Venomous Pt 3 - Detrimental" Rosie/Carter, Princess Protection Program - G
Title: Venomous Part 3 - Detrimental
Fandom: Princess Protection Program
Pairing: Carter/Rosie
Rating: G
Words: ~2600
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, not intended for profit or offense. I own no rights to the subjects.
Summary: A snake bite has aggravated the already fragile relationship between tomboy Carter Mason and misplaced Princess Rosalinda Montoya. The realities of her situation begin to weigh heavy on the Princess.
Chapter One of Venomous
Chapter Two = Pernicious
Carter locks herself in her room for the afternoon, leaving Rosie to find a spot on the living room couch to sit stiffly upon. She dare not approach the tomboy when she’s in this state. She tries to busy herself by going over her homework from the day, which is outrageously simple and uninspiring, and if all high schools are like this one, Rosie frets for the state of the American education system - dismal literacy rates aside.
Major Mason appears through the front door just as Rosie closes the math textbook she borrowed from the library.
“Ah, Rosie. Where’d our little Grumbles run off to?” He wipes his hands with a kitchen rag.
“If you are referring to Carter, she has barricaded herself in her room. I have not yet attempted to speak with her. I feel she needs some time to herself.”
Mason looks off toward Carter’s door and scratches his brawny forearm.
“Yea, s’probably a good idea. For now. She’ll come out when she’s hungry, like all the wild things ‘round here,” he winks at Rosie before moving to the lounge chair across from her with a manila folder with documents in it. Rosie’s interest is piqued.
“Major Mason, sir -“
“Hey now, you can call me Mason. Or Joe, if ya like. No need for military grade formalities in this house,” he smiles that kind smile that has come to set Rosie’s frantic heart at ease. Rosie has wondered if all the Program’s agents have such a skill.
“-Mason, may I ask what you’re working on?”
Mason drops his folder to his lap and scrutinizes Rosie for a second. “It’s reports and updates from the Program. I’ve got surveillance on some of the princesses I’ve served on past missions; they keep me informed of the state of affairs within those countries as well as the well-being of the princesses. If anything was to resurface, I’d be sent to negotiate and intervene, since the family often comes to trust the particular agent that was assigned to them.”
Rosie nods in diplomatic understanding, clasping her hands in her lap and crossing her feet at the ankles. Her eyes are bold as she asks the question that's been eating at her since she left her mother on the balcony of the palace.
“Do you know anything about Costa Luna? About my mother?”
Mason sighs and sets his folder down beside him. He drops his leg from over his knee and places his hands on his knees as he stands up. He walks over and sits next to Rosie, close but at a respectable distance.
“Rosie. I am absolutely forbidden to get you involved in anything regarding your country’s crisis while you are in protection. You have to understand.”
Rosie focuses on the seat cushion Mason just left. “We do more than provide protection - an agent is charged to provide peace of mind to the princess while the stressful affairs are worked out,” Mason continues. “And regardless, I’m only kept informed on urgent matters, as a precaution.”
Rosie can’t restrain herself from prying, “Urgent matters? Such as?”
Mason’s jaw tightens but he looks her straight in the eyes. He doesn’t want to euphemize the situation. “Matters such as a civil revolt. A declaration of war. Failure of negotiations. And…the capture or death of a family member.”
Rosie’s eyes grow wide and her hand rises to her mouth. “I’m sorry Rosie, but these are the politics of national strife.”
“If- if my mother was to be… if she… do you mean to say that you wouldn’t tell me about it?” Rosie’s voice rises, as does her body from the couch, to face Mason with a terrified look on her face.
“Rosie, please, calm down. We’re working to ensure that the coup incited by General Kane is shut down as quickly as possible. It’s quite unlikely the murder of the Queen would hold much prudence at this point.”
“General Kane is a despicable man, his dictatorship over Costa Estrella has devastated the people and the country. He cannot be allowed to do the same with my home!”
“Of course not, we’re-“
“He will have no qualms with the deposing of the Royal Family, my mother is still in great danger! Everyone is threatened! I have already lost my father, I cannot lose my mother as well!!”
“Rosie, please -“
“Do you know what it feels like to lose someone?!!”
Rosie clasps her hands to her mouth the second the words leave. How terribly offensive and undignified of her, to shout and presume to have the right to bring up such private matters.
“I-I apologize, I sincerely apologize. I lost myself-“
“No Rosie, please. Calm down. It’s all right.” Mason takes a deep breath, then looks up at the princess and pats the seat next to him, indicating where he wants her. She obliges.
“I understand your agitation and your concern for you family. But, it’s my job to make sure you get reunited with your family and home. I’ll do whatever I can to keep this promise to you.” He holds his hand out, an invitation for Rosie to take.
Rosie places her left hand in his hesitantly.
“And yes, we’ve lost someone. Carter’s mother…” Rosie looks away, ashamed that she evoked the memory. Mason keeps talking however.
“She didn’t pass away… but her presence here has all but disappeared. She left us, when Carter was about 9 years old. But really, it would be more accurate to say I drove her away,” he admits sadly, his throat working to release a sad chuckle.
Rosie feels uncomfortable at the far away look settling into Mason’s eyes and pleads, “Please, no. I apologize for my outburst. You owe me no explanation.”
“No, no, it’s all right. It’s something that’s a part of this family - and since you’re living here, you should at least be aware.” Mason continues with his story.
“At the time I was starting to come in high demand for the Program. There were a few disputes between us, but they seemed minor. She wanted to move to a city, but I was raised a fishin’ boy, it’s a dream to live at this lake. Carter was having trouble at school with friends and some bullies, and basically we just fell apart as a family.”
Rosie squeezes his hand.
“We packed up all the photos and reminders and stored them away, and Carter and I became closer than ever, and eventually we fell right back into that cohesion we had early on. I never knew what to say to Carter; she was old enough that everything I thought to say would seem like I was dismissing her, talking down to her. We could still feel the missing piece, but it hurt less when we didn't mention it. It became a silent rule.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s in the past. And we’re stronger than ever. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” he rubs her back in a comforting manner and stands up.
He catches the still ashamed look on her face and comments quietly, “You’re allowed to be inquisitive, Rosie. In fact, I encourage it.”
She nods her head and takes a moment to collect herself, banishing all thoughts of her mother’s questionable safety to the back of her subconscious. She smiles up at the Major - grateful for his honesty and kindness and reassurance.
Mason returns the smile jovially and claps his hands together. “So, dinner - Chinese sound good to you?”
~~\/~~
Rosie, having been in the United States less than 42 hours, was already feeling quite miffed at the amount of greasy, fried food that lacked the homely taste of being prepared with care and attention. But she knew better than to complain.
Dinner that evening is a strained affair around open cartons of Chinese food. Rosie is quite baffled at the noodles and beef and vegetables covered in sauce meal, having never reached into a communal dish herself. Her inexperience earns her a splattering of brown sweet and sour sauce on her cheek and blouse as the meat and veggies slop onto her plate.
Rosie knows she misses home, but she’s finding there are small things she has never really thought about that are tugging at her heartstrings. The way she used to converse in several different languages at the dinning table, with her family, royal guests and the staff who served the meal. Never was the atmosphere tense and quiet like it is right now, with Carter shooting her not-so-benevolent stares every now and then and smirking maliciously when she struggles with her chopsticks. Major Mason finally notices her difficultly and hands her a fork, which of course earns her another demeaning glance from Carter.
After Mason’s failed attempt at engaging in conversation about school (“Sucked,” is all Carter offers. Rosie gives a curt answer as well, “Interesting.”), Rosie tries to distract herself with wandering thoughts. They of course drift back to her mother, to home cooked meals, just her and her mother Sophia in the royal kitchens. Those occasional late afternoons always contained laughter and the throwing of white flour, even when the recipe called for none. Thinking back to this afternoon’s conversation with Mason, Rosie ponders if Carter ever did such things with her mother… but of course she knows not to ask.
The air is punctuated with a heavy sigh from Mason, an impatient hum from Carter, and the clinking of Rosie’s fork against her plates as she struggles to wrap noodles around it.
~~\/~~
“So, Rosie,” Mason’s voice is heard before his head and torso appear in Carter’s doorway, “let’s hear one of those many languages you know.”
Rosie, surprised at his interest, hesitates before letting shine a brilliant happy smile. She bounces on her bed a little to better face Mason. “What would you like me to say, Major?”
“How about ‘goodnight’? And hey - ‘member what I said about the title business…” Mason warns kindly.
“Sumimasen, Mason-san. Dewa, Oyasuminasai.” The Japanese apology and goodnight wish flow easily and prettily from Rosie’s mouth, and Mason claps his hands together and laughs heartily.
“Ah haha, excellent! That’s very impressive.” He clears his throat and stands straight, before stuttering a little on, “Oyaa-som-nasai.” Rosie smiles graciously and claps for him, before Carter is heard from her bed groaning loudly. Rosie’s face and posture fall, but Mason smiles sheepishly at her before leaning toward Carter’s side of the room and chiding, “And a goodnight to you, Miss Grumbles. I’d hope that by tomorrow this little attitude trip of yours takes a turn for the better.”
Carter rolls over under her covers and grunts instead of offering a goodnight. Mason sighs. But he turns to Rosie and smiles reassuringly. Rosie’s smile returns a little when he stands erect and comically gives her another salute before leaving and closing the door behind him. Rosie turns out the lights and gets very still over in her corner.
Carter wants to fall asleep as quickly as she can; today was just the worse, and while she dreads tomorrow, she knows the only safe place she has left is that space between waking and dreaming.
Except, Rosie has somehow managed to commandeer that from her too. Incessant rustling and a sharp hiss of pain spurs Carter to snap open her eyes to take in the sight of Rosie tugging and twisting on the white cloth bandage around her leg. Leaning down over the side of her bed, she doesn't notice Carter sitting up to scrutinize her in a glare.
“Stop, stop, stop. You’re doing that wrong,” Carter huffs and stands up. Rosie gasps in surprise and stops moving as though caught in a compromising situation, “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I can’t with you making so much noise, can I? Let me do that, you’ll just make it worse.” Carter’s voice is still tinged with a grumble so Rosie does not protest. Carter investigates and finds the bandage is stuck on the pins and Rosie has been pulling at it so fiercely it’s starting to cut off circulation.
Carter delicately frees the bandage and reveals the red, irritated wound to the warm night air. She doesn't bother hiding her sigh of frustration as she gets up to retrieve the first aid kit, and Rosie stifles her ire at Carter’s attitude.
The princess lets out her frustrations in a sigh - but it isn’t enough. After staring at her pillow for half a minute, she punches it once, fiercely, then snaps back into her erect position, as though it didn't just happen.
Carter returns and gets to work cleaning the calf with a sterile wipe. She grabs a white tube and says, “This is some special ointment dad found on one of his missions. I think its Chinese or something. Supposed to help the skin heal faster. It’ll feel strange, like your skin is burning, but it’s just really cold." She begins rubbing it around the bite and Rosie inhales quietly through her nose at the sensation, “It’ll feel better in a few minutes.”
Once again Rosie can’t help but notice that while Carter tends to her injury, her face relaxes into a focused and determined visage. Her attitude has seemed to abate as well, as she quietly hums out a note, almost like a sigh, and rubs her ring and forefinger in small circles. When she caps the tube, she does her poking habit and looks up at Rosie’s face to see if any spot causes particular discomfort. Under her heavy scrutiny, Rosie falters and smiles shyly, and Carter almost returns it, before jerking her head down, as though she suddenly remembered she kinda hates this foreign know-it-all.
“Just so you know, the pins are weird. If you tug at ‘em, they only dig in deeper. You gotta give a little slack, and then slip them out,” Carter informs Rosie as she wraps a new, clean bandage around her leg.
“I understand.” Rosie mistakenly puts a hand on Carter’s shoulder, “Thank yo-“
“-Yea, yea, whatever,” Carter stands up abruptly to loosen the hand, and stalks off to replace the med kit. Rosie refrains from huffing and slips into bed.
But Rosie finds she can’t dream peacefully. Her heart feels cold and her head feels numb. Culture shock aside, she can’t fathom how much longer she can go without knowing how her mother is fairing against that evil tyrant Kane. Her mind is plagued by visions of strife and violence afflicting her people, her family ostracized or killed. She rises from bed to sit at the window, looking for hope or guidance or distraction out in the dim moonlight.
Thoughts of losing her mother, so soon after her father passed, cause tears to roll down her cheeks. Running her fingers over the small locket, her eyes scanning the smiling faces of her father and mother, she tries to recall Mason’s calming words, but to no avail. Deep within her she wants to argue, fight him, yell that he does not know if her mother will be safe, that unless he is there beside her, he can’t promise her safety. She sobs at the feeling of uselessness corrupting her heart.
Carter says nothing as the sobs reverberate in her own chest. With her back to Rosie still, she cuddles closer to her pillows and wishes Rosie would do that elsewhere.
Yea, sure, she’s in a foreign place. Maybe she should just suck it up.
Carter is relieved when her fake cough is loud enough to stifle the soft sobs coming from the window. Any longer and Carter’s mind would have wandered back, several years ago, to those months after her mother left them, sitting in that same place, doing the same thing. Crying to the moon.
Rosie slips back into bed, the memory of her mother’s scent as they said their goodbyes in the palace fresh in her mind.
She wonders how long it will take for that too to be taken from her.
~ Chapter Four - Anodyne
Fandom: Princess Protection Program
Pairing: Carter/Rosie
Rating: G
Words: ~2600
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, not intended for profit or offense. I own no rights to the subjects.
Summary: A snake bite has aggravated the already fragile relationship between tomboy Carter Mason and misplaced Princess Rosalinda Montoya. The realities of her situation begin to weigh heavy on the Princess.
Chapter One of Venomous
Chapter Two = Pernicious
Carter locks herself in her room for the afternoon, leaving Rosie to find a spot on the living room couch to sit stiffly upon. She dare not approach the tomboy when she’s in this state. She tries to busy herself by going over her homework from the day, which is outrageously simple and uninspiring, and if all high schools are like this one, Rosie frets for the state of the American education system - dismal literacy rates aside.
Major Mason appears through the front door just as Rosie closes the math textbook she borrowed from the library.
“Ah, Rosie. Where’d our little Grumbles run off to?” He wipes his hands with a kitchen rag.
“If you are referring to Carter, she has barricaded herself in her room. I have not yet attempted to speak with her. I feel she needs some time to herself.”
Mason looks off toward Carter’s door and scratches his brawny forearm.
“Yea, s’probably a good idea. For now. She’ll come out when she’s hungry, like all the wild things ‘round here,” he winks at Rosie before moving to the lounge chair across from her with a manila folder with documents in it. Rosie’s interest is piqued.
“Major Mason, sir -“
“Hey now, you can call me Mason. Or Joe, if ya like. No need for military grade formalities in this house,” he smiles that kind smile that has come to set Rosie’s frantic heart at ease. Rosie has wondered if all the Program’s agents have such a skill.
“-Mason, may I ask what you’re working on?”
Mason drops his folder to his lap and scrutinizes Rosie for a second. “It’s reports and updates from the Program. I’ve got surveillance on some of the princesses I’ve served on past missions; they keep me informed of the state of affairs within those countries as well as the well-being of the princesses. If anything was to resurface, I’d be sent to negotiate and intervene, since the family often comes to trust the particular agent that was assigned to them.”
Rosie nods in diplomatic understanding, clasping her hands in her lap and crossing her feet at the ankles. Her eyes are bold as she asks the question that's been eating at her since she left her mother on the balcony of the palace.
“Do you know anything about Costa Luna? About my mother?”
Mason sighs and sets his folder down beside him. He drops his leg from over his knee and places his hands on his knees as he stands up. He walks over and sits next to Rosie, close but at a respectable distance.
“Rosie. I am absolutely forbidden to get you involved in anything regarding your country’s crisis while you are in protection. You have to understand.”
Rosie focuses on the seat cushion Mason just left. “We do more than provide protection - an agent is charged to provide peace of mind to the princess while the stressful affairs are worked out,” Mason continues. “And regardless, I’m only kept informed on urgent matters, as a precaution.”
Rosie can’t restrain herself from prying, “Urgent matters? Such as?”
Mason’s jaw tightens but he looks her straight in the eyes. He doesn’t want to euphemize the situation. “Matters such as a civil revolt. A declaration of war. Failure of negotiations. And…the capture or death of a family member.”
Rosie’s eyes grow wide and her hand rises to her mouth. “I’m sorry Rosie, but these are the politics of national strife.”
“If- if my mother was to be… if she… do you mean to say that you wouldn’t tell me about it?” Rosie’s voice rises, as does her body from the couch, to face Mason with a terrified look on her face.
“Rosie, please, calm down. We’re working to ensure that the coup incited by General Kane is shut down as quickly as possible. It’s quite unlikely the murder of the Queen would hold much prudence at this point.”
“General Kane is a despicable man, his dictatorship over Costa Estrella has devastated the people and the country. He cannot be allowed to do the same with my home!”
“Of course not, we’re-“
“He will have no qualms with the deposing of the Royal Family, my mother is still in great danger! Everyone is threatened! I have already lost my father, I cannot lose my mother as well!!”
“Rosie, please -“
“Do you know what it feels like to lose someone?!!”
Rosie clasps her hands to her mouth the second the words leave. How terribly offensive and undignified of her, to shout and presume to have the right to bring up such private matters.
“I-I apologize, I sincerely apologize. I lost myself-“
“No Rosie, please. Calm down. It’s all right.” Mason takes a deep breath, then looks up at the princess and pats the seat next to him, indicating where he wants her. She obliges.
“I understand your agitation and your concern for you family. But, it’s my job to make sure you get reunited with your family and home. I’ll do whatever I can to keep this promise to you.” He holds his hand out, an invitation for Rosie to take.
Rosie places her left hand in his hesitantly.
“And yes, we’ve lost someone. Carter’s mother…” Rosie looks away, ashamed that she evoked the memory. Mason keeps talking however.
“She didn’t pass away… but her presence here has all but disappeared. She left us, when Carter was about 9 years old. But really, it would be more accurate to say I drove her away,” he admits sadly, his throat working to release a sad chuckle.
Rosie feels uncomfortable at the far away look settling into Mason’s eyes and pleads, “Please, no. I apologize for my outburst. You owe me no explanation.”
“No, no, it’s all right. It’s something that’s a part of this family - and since you’re living here, you should at least be aware.” Mason continues with his story.
“At the time I was starting to come in high demand for the Program. There were a few disputes between us, but they seemed minor. She wanted to move to a city, but I was raised a fishin’ boy, it’s a dream to live at this lake. Carter was having trouble at school with friends and some bullies, and basically we just fell apart as a family.”
Rosie squeezes his hand.
“We packed up all the photos and reminders and stored them away, and Carter and I became closer than ever, and eventually we fell right back into that cohesion we had early on. I never knew what to say to Carter; she was old enough that everything I thought to say would seem like I was dismissing her, talking down to her. We could still feel the missing piece, but it hurt less when we didn't mention it. It became a silent rule.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s in the past. And we’re stronger than ever. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?” he rubs her back in a comforting manner and stands up.
He catches the still ashamed look on her face and comments quietly, “You’re allowed to be inquisitive, Rosie. In fact, I encourage it.”
She nods her head and takes a moment to collect herself, banishing all thoughts of her mother’s questionable safety to the back of her subconscious. She smiles up at the Major - grateful for his honesty and kindness and reassurance.
Mason returns the smile jovially and claps his hands together. “So, dinner - Chinese sound good to you?”
~~\/~~
Rosie, having been in the United States less than 42 hours, was already feeling quite miffed at the amount of greasy, fried food that lacked the homely taste of being prepared with care and attention. But she knew better than to complain.
Dinner that evening is a strained affair around open cartons of Chinese food. Rosie is quite baffled at the noodles and beef and vegetables covered in sauce meal, having never reached into a communal dish herself. Her inexperience earns her a splattering of brown sweet and sour sauce on her cheek and blouse as the meat and veggies slop onto her plate.
Rosie knows she misses home, but she’s finding there are small things she has never really thought about that are tugging at her heartstrings. The way she used to converse in several different languages at the dinning table, with her family, royal guests and the staff who served the meal. Never was the atmosphere tense and quiet like it is right now, with Carter shooting her not-so-benevolent stares every now and then and smirking maliciously when she struggles with her chopsticks. Major Mason finally notices her difficultly and hands her a fork, which of course earns her another demeaning glance from Carter.
After Mason’s failed attempt at engaging in conversation about school (“Sucked,” is all Carter offers. Rosie gives a curt answer as well, “Interesting.”), Rosie tries to distract herself with wandering thoughts. They of course drift back to her mother, to home cooked meals, just her and her mother Sophia in the royal kitchens. Those occasional late afternoons always contained laughter and the throwing of white flour, even when the recipe called for none. Thinking back to this afternoon’s conversation with Mason, Rosie ponders if Carter ever did such things with her mother… but of course she knows not to ask.
The air is punctuated with a heavy sigh from Mason, an impatient hum from Carter, and the clinking of Rosie’s fork against her plates as she struggles to wrap noodles around it.
~~\/~~
“So, Rosie,” Mason’s voice is heard before his head and torso appear in Carter’s doorway, “let’s hear one of those many languages you know.”
Rosie, surprised at his interest, hesitates before letting shine a brilliant happy smile. She bounces on her bed a little to better face Mason. “What would you like me to say, Major?”
“How about ‘goodnight’? And hey - ‘member what I said about the title business…” Mason warns kindly.
“Sumimasen, Mason-san. Dewa, Oyasuminasai.” The Japanese apology and goodnight wish flow easily and prettily from Rosie’s mouth, and Mason claps his hands together and laughs heartily.
“Ah haha, excellent! That’s very impressive.” He clears his throat and stands straight, before stuttering a little on, “Oyaa-som-nasai.” Rosie smiles graciously and claps for him, before Carter is heard from her bed groaning loudly. Rosie’s face and posture fall, but Mason smiles sheepishly at her before leaning toward Carter’s side of the room and chiding, “And a goodnight to you, Miss Grumbles. I’d hope that by tomorrow this little attitude trip of yours takes a turn for the better.”
Carter rolls over under her covers and grunts instead of offering a goodnight. Mason sighs. But he turns to Rosie and smiles reassuringly. Rosie’s smile returns a little when he stands erect and comically gives her another salute before leaving and closing the door behind him. Rosie turns out the lights and gets very still over in her corner.
Carter wants to fall asleep as quickly as she can; today was just the worse, and while she dreads tomorrow, she knows the only safe place she has left is that space between waking and dreaming.
Except, Rosie has somehow managed to commandeer that from her too. Incessant rustling and a sharp hiss of pain spurs Carter to snap open her eyes to take in the sight of Rosie tugging and twisting on the white cloth bandage around her leg. Leaning down over the side of her bed, she doesn't notice Carter sitting up to scrutinize her in a glare.
“Stop, stop, stop. You’re doing that wrong,” Carter huffs and stands up. Rosie gasps in surprise and stops moving as though caught in a compromising situation, “I thought you were sleeping.”
“I can’t with you making so much noise, can I? Let me do that, you’ll just make it worse.” Carter’s voice is still tinged with a grumble so Rosie does not protest. Carter investigates and finds the bandage is stuck on the pins and Rosie has been pulling at it so fiercely it’s starting to cut off circulation.
Carter delicately frees the bandage and reveals the red, irritated wound to the warm night air. She doesn't bother hiding her sigh of frustration as she gets up to retrieve the first aid kit, and Rosie stifles her ire at Carter’s attitude.
The princess lets out her frustrations in a sigh - but it isn’t enough. After staring at her pillow for half a minute, she punches it once, fiercely, then snaps back into her erect position, as though it didn't just happen.
Carter returns and gets to work cleaning the calf with a sterile wipe. She grabs a white tube and says, “This is some special ointment dad found on one of his missions. I think its Chinese or something. Supposed to help the skin heal faster. It’ll feel strange, like your skin is burning, but it’s just really cold." She begins rubbing it around the bite and Rosie inhales quietly through her nose at the sensation, “It’ll feel better in a few minutes.”
Once again Rosie can’t help but notice that while Carter tends to her injury, her face relaxes into a focused and determined visage. Her attitude has seemed to abate as well, as she quietly hums out a note, almost like a sigh, and rubs her ring and forefinger in small circles. When she caps the tube, she does her poking habit and looks up at Rosie’s face to see if any spot causes particular discomfort. Under her heavy scrutiny, Rosie falters and smiles shyly, and Carter almost returns it, before jerking her head down, as though she suddenly remembered she kinda hates this foreign know-it-all.
“Just so you know, the pins are weird. If you tug at ‘em, they only dig in deeper. You gotta give a little slack, and then slip them out,” Carter informs Rosie as she wraps a new, clean bandage around her leg.
“I understand.” Rosie mistakenly puts a hand on Carter’s shoulder, “Thank yo-“
“-Yea, yea, whatever,” Carter stands up abruptly to loosen the hand, and stalks off to replace the med kit. Rosie refrains from huffing and slips into bed.
But Rosie finds she can’t dream peacefully. Her heart feels cold and her head feels numb. Culture shock aside, she can’t fathom how much longer she can go without knowing how her mother is fairing against that evil tyrant Kane. Her mind is plagued by visions of strife and violence afflicting her people, her family ostracized or killed. She rises from bed to sit at the window, looking for hope or guidance or distraction out in the dim moonlight.
Thoughts of losing her mother, so soon after her father passed, cause tears to roll down her cheeks. Running her fingers over the small locket, her eyes scanning the smiling faces of her father and mother, she tries to recall Mason’s calming words, but to no avail. Deep within her she wants to argue, fight him, yell that he does not know if her mother will be safe, that unless he is there beside her, he can’t promise her safety. She sobs at the feeling of uselessness corrupting her heart.
Carter says nothing as the sobs reverberate in her own chest. With her back to Rosie still, she cuddles closer to her pillows and wishes Rosie would do that elsewhere.
Yea, sure, she’s in a foreign place. Maybe she should just suck it up.
Carter is relieved when her fake cough is loud enough to stifle the soft sobs coming from the window. Any longer and Carter’s mind would have wandered back, several years ago, to those months after her mother left them, sitting in that same place, doing the same thing. Crying to the moon.
Rosie slips back into bed, the memory of her mother’s scent as they said their goodbyes in the palace fresh in her mind.
She wonders how long it will take for that too to be taken from her.
~ Chapter Four - Anodyne