Lucky had, had a different name once. Not that she could remember what it was.
Sometimes, she caught flashes of it, the life before the one she was living now. Someone singing to her in a language she didn’t understand. Flashes of fire and a terrible roar. Creatures with tusk and leathern armor. The feel of a rough blanket. A green-skinned woman crying as she signed a paper, whispering something to her she couldn’t understand.
“Lucky! Everyone’s waiting for you!”
In the life she was living right now, she was staring at the maroon fascinator of ribbons and flowers she did not want to wear and hearing her mistress’ calls become increasingly agitated. She was going to get it if she didn’t come down soon.
She put the fascinator on and began to adjust it. Maybe she could make herself feel less ridiculous.
#
After finishing with the hat, she appeared at the head of the stairs in a flowing maroon gown with capped sleeves, an empire waist extenuated with a gold ribbon sash, pouring out into a flowing floor-length skirt. The rest of the family, at the foot of the stairs was dressed in black: An annoyed-looking woman with her golden-brown hair done up in a chiffon, a man the same age as the woman with a hair color a few shades darker, and a teenage boy who looked like the perfect combination of both of them, taking into a video camera on his phone,
Lucky bit back an aggravated huff. Ever since Conrad started that cursed vlog, he had become insufferable. Who was even watching? It’s not like charity galas were relatable to your average YouTube viewer. At least she didn’t think they were.
“What was that?” Mrs. Oliverson questioned.
“Nothing, ma’am.” Lucky quickly covered, grabbing the skirt of her dress and started down the stairs, “I’m so sorry I took so long.”
“It was well worth that wait,” Conrad beamed into the device, before aiming it at her. “As you can see, she’s gorgeous.”
Lucky gripped at the folds of her dress in annoyance as she came down. No, not annoyance, she realized. Rage. Like a thousand little annoyances were about to explode at any moment.
“Conrad, turn that off now.” Mr. Oliverson gritted in a way that left no room for debate.
Conrad did as Lucky descended the stairs to a fussing Mrs. Oliverson. “What were you doing up there? Do we need to have the maid help you get ready like when you were a child? I’m seriously considering it.”
Lucky could tell by the tone of her voice that it wasn’t an idol threat. If she didn’t do some damage control, she would be on her knees with Aggie combing her hair for who knew how long. “Apologies, ma’am.” Lucky covered quickly with a curtsy, “It’s just…are you sure about this hat? Perhaps there’s another one that would be better for the occasion? I think I have a picture hat that would go perfectly with this dress. Or maybe even no hat at all?”
However, when Mrs. Oliverson’s face contorted in offense, Lucky knew she miscalculated. “Are you saying I don’t know how to pick out your outfits?”
“No, I just—” Lucky began, “The clothes you pick out for me are always lovely, but don’t you think perhaps it’s time I picked out my own outfits? I’m certainly old enough.”
“Oh, so now you think you know enough to know how to dress?” Mrs. Oliverson began, getting more frantic, “You’re so clever? Do you realize how much care I take in—”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Portia, we don’t have time for this,” Mr. Oliverson spoke up, “We’re going to be late!”
Mrs. Oliverson sighed, turning around and heading for the door.
As the others hurried to follow her, Mr. Oliverson pulled Lucky to the side. “Now, Lucky, there’s going to be a…special guess at the gala tonight that’s going to have a special interest in the elves there. You’re happy here, right?”
“Of course.” Lucky smiled, unable to explain the numb feeling inside of her.
“Good.” Mr. Oliverson responded, “Be sure to tell him that.”
“Tell who that, sir?” Luck asked.
“Lucky! George!”
Mr. Oliverson winced. “You’ll see when we get there.” After a beat, he added, “Oh, and maybe not bring up that Portia still picks out your outfits? Please?”
#
The party was the standard rich people affair. Groups of sumptuously dressed folks holding flutes of champagne or glasses of cocktails and chatting, wait staff running around making sure glasses stayed full and offering plates of dainty figure foods, mostly French in origin. Saumon Au Blini. Pate en croute. Crackers and puff pastries pleading to be smeared with the offered Tapenade. Not a bad spread, if Lucky was being honest.
Making sure she wasn’t watched, Lucky deftly snatched one of the Pate en croute as a tray went past, slowly nibbling on the meat-filled pastry, silently grateful that Mrs. Oliverson didn’t summon her to join as she drifted to off to some beckoning friends. Near the center of the room was a large crowd. An oddly large one.
Um, what’s going on over there? Lucky though, glancing over to Conrad and silently begging for some clarity. He just shrugged.
That was when Mr. Poe, some associate or another of Mr. Oliverson’s, walked over to them, along with another elven girl, a bit older than Lucky with a thinner face, her hair falling in corkscrew curls.
“Might as well get this over with, right?” Mr. Poe commented.
Lucky looked over to the other elf, wondering if she knew anything about going on. What was her name? Amelia?
They got near the center of the crowd, finding a man in his mid-thirties in a professional, but somewhat cheap suit, and a young man, maybe about her age, with green skin and pointed ears like them, his dark hair slicked back, dressed in a blue and gold uniform of some kind.
“Um, who is that?” Lucky asked.
That was when the man and his elven companion walked in their direction, the elven boy a few steps ahead. Lucky quickly stuffed the rest of the Pate en croute in her mouth and managed to dry shallow. She had a feeling she shouldn’t be holding food in her hand for this encounter.
“Your highness.” Mr. Poe said with a quick bow, the others, Mr. Oliverson following suit and Amelia curtseying. Upon seeing what was going on, Conrad and Lucky quickly copied the others. “It is such an honor to meet you in person. This is my college, George Oliverson, his son Conrad, and our … Amelia, and Lucky. Everyone, this is Prince Theodred Olonorin of Eokkudell and his escort, Mister, um—”
“Hargroves.” The man spoke up.
“Yes, Mr. Hargroves has been very helpful with this endeavor.” Prince Theodred spoke up, “I don’t know what I could do without him.”
“I’m sure he has been,” Mr. Poe said, pleasant enough, but with a perturbed undertone his voice, “Truly, it’s an honor.”
“And it’s a pleasure to be here.” Prince Theodred said with a charming smile, reaching out to shake first the men’s hand, then Conrad and a surprised but not displeased Amilia, before finally reaching out to Lucky.
Lucky just stared at the hand, not sure why he was holding it out to her.
“I’m sorry, isn’t this the traditional greeting between humans, at least in professional settings.” Prince Theodred asked.
“It is.” Lucky said, “It’s just no one’s ever extended it to me before.” When that earned a series of uncomfortable or suspicious looks from everyone assembled, she added quickly, “Of course, I haven’t been in many professional settings, your highness, I wouldn’t even say this is one.” Way to go Lucky. This is clearly who Mr. Oilverson was talking about and then you go and do that!
“Quite right.” The prince agreed, “Then, perhaps, if the young woman consents,” He raised Lucky hand and gently puts his lips to it, “This would do.”
Lucky felt her center warm a little, her face too. Then again, that could be because she just met a prince. A prince that just kissed her hand. That would make anyone warm, she figured. “The, um, girl consents.”
“And in the spirit of it not being professional, may I steal you two lovely young ladies away for a few minutes?” Prince Theodred requested, “Nothing against humans, but I haven’t had time with my own species in weeks.”
Both girls looked at their owners anxiously.
“It’s alright, Lucky, go on.” Mr. Oliverson said encouragingly.
Lucky smiled, keeping her mouth closed until she said, “I would love to, your highness.”
“As I’m sure my Amelia would.” Mr. Poe spoke up.
#
The three of them walked in silence for Lucky wasn’t sure how long, Amelia just staring, wide-eyed, looking scared. Did she know something Lucky didn’t? For her part, Lucky didn’t know what to say to the prince. What did she do? No one had ever told her what to do in this situation!
“So, how long have you young ladies lived in the human realm?” Price Theodred asked finally.
“I…” Amelia spoke first, thumbling for word. “Err…um…”
“Your highness, might we please stop by the bathroom so Amelia can splash water on her face or something?” Lucky requested politely, “I think she’s a bite starstruck.”
“Of course.” Prince Theodred replied, looking at Amelia with concern, “Are you sure you don’t need any more help than that?”
Amelia’s eyes somehow managed to get wider ad she stammered, “I… you…me…”
“Come on,” Lucky said, grabbing her by the wrist and hurrying towards the bathroom.
Amelia insisted that she wanted to be alone to collect herself, leaving Lucky standing alone with the prince next to the lady’s room door. “I’m sorry, she’s usually not like this.” Lucky said, worried that Amelia might be in trouble with her family.
“I just hope she’s alright.” Prince Theodred said, “Are you two close?”
“I wouldn’t say that…” Lucky admitted awkwardly, “I usually only see her at events like these.”
“But you do have some close friends, surely?” Prince Theodred probed.
“Respectfully your highness, that’s a bit of a personal question, don’t you think?” Luck responded carefully.
“I’m sorry, I normally wouldn’t pry, but I’m trying to get a picture of what’s been going on with my people in the human realm for the past twenty years, and every bit of information helps but that picture together.” Prince Theored explained, “Thought admittedly there are probably more pertinent questions to ask in that recall.”
“Hmmm, such as-?” Luck asked, tilting her head to one side.
“How long have you lived with the Oliversons?” Prince Theored responded.
Lucky started doing math in her head. She was sixteen now, at least according to anyone’s best estimate so…
“A little over twelve years.” Lucky said, “I was roughly about four when the Oliverson’s bought—took me in. I honestly don’t remember life before that much.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Prince Theored said, looking sad, “The Disasters displaced so many, it was devastating for our kingdom. For the ones around it.” After a beat, he asked, “You have no memory of your birth parents at all?”
Lucky didn’t say anything for a moment. “Sometimes I remember things, bits and pieces. But not that many solid memories of them.” A pit began to form in her stomach, and suddenly she didn’t want to be having this conversation. “What does it matter anyway?” She spat, looking away, “They didn’t even want me.”
“How do you know that?” Prince Theored pried softly, “Who told you that?”
The statement caused bits of past tirades to hit Lucky’s brain like bullets, pelting in her head. You ungrateful brat …we took you in when no one else would…
“Lucky,” Prince Theored asked softly, “How are you treated by your family? “
“The Oliversons have been…very good to me.” Lucky answered, awkwardly. No one had really asked her that before.
“Care to elaborate?” Prince Theored requested.
“Well, I’m well-fed,” Lucky held out a piece of her dress, “Well-clothed. I’m living in a very nice house…”
“What about education?” Prince Theored cut her off, “I’m just appalled at how many elves in your situation can’t even read.”
Lucky felt heat rushing to her cheeks as she rubbed the back of her neck. “Mrs. Oliverson saw to it that I received finishing lessons.”
“More finishing lessons.” Prince Theored commented, not so much to her as to himself, sounding like he didn’t think much of said finishing lessons.
“They were quite expensive.” Lucky spoke up, uncomfortable with here this conversation was going, “Some of the finest families in the country don’t have that kind of refinement. “
“And how is that going to help you when you come of age and it’s time to come out on your own?” Prince Theored asked, “I mean, surely you’ve thought about what you want to do with your life?”
Suddenly Lucky felt like she was being interrogated. Like the Prince was trying to catch her in a lie. “If you excuse me your highness, I think I’m going to go check on Amelia.”
#
Mrs. Oliverson made good on her threat.
The next morning, Lucky was in a chair in front of the mirror while Aggie was pulling her and twisting it painfully, much more roughly than was necessary, as she groaned on and on about having one more task to do. To make matters worse, Mrs. Oliverson had laid out a powder pink Lolita dress with three layers of skirt and ruffly lace on the end of the sleeves and connected with bows on the skirt, both in a somehow even lighter shade of pink. And Aggie was currently finishing it all off with a big hair bow. She felt like a little girl’s doll.
When she was finally able to go downstairs, her legs felt wobbly, making it harder even harder to move with the layers of clothing. The dining room was empty, except for Conrad, who was talking into his phone’s camera. Lucky’s heart sunk and her stomach knotting, taking a step back. He couldn’t get her on camera like this. It was too humiliating. She would have to go without breakfast.
“Hey, Lucky,” He called out as she turned to go, “Where are you going?”
Drat. Lucky turned around. “Apologizes, I’m just…not hungry.”
Conrad sat the phone down. “Since when are you not…Whoa. Trying a…new look?”
The skin around Lucky’s eyes felt heavy. That was when Aggie marched into the room, snapping, “Sit down, girl! You’ve already inconvenienced me enough as it is!”
Conrad’s face fell as he realized the statement’s implication. “She didn’t.”
“It’s nothing to worry yourself with.” Lucky said, poking at the fruit salad she suddenly found in front of her. She hadn’t been fibbing about not being hungry, or at least not having an appetite. “Um, where are your parents?”
“They already headed out.” Conrad said, “Mom had some emergency brunch with Melinda which knowing Melinda could take all day, so it looks like it’s just you and me today.”
Lucky nearly dropped her fork. “What?” No, no, no. She couldn’t spend the whole day with Conrad and his filming addiction. Especially in this dress!
“Yeah, it’s professional development day.” Conrad said, before taking a sip from the mug in front of him, “What gives them extra work, gives us a day off.”
Play it cool, play it cool. “But surely you must have some plans?” Lucky asked, managing to pick up the fork again, acting unbothered.
“Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d want to be rid of me.” Conrad teased, “And we use to be so such good friends.”
Lucky chest did a little tug. “You know, we really did use to be.” She said soberly, “Good friends.” Suddenly a memory ran through her head, “Remember when we were eight, and you begged your parents to let you take me to Willie Thorton’s birthday party? Wasn’t that his name, Willie?”
“Billy, but you were close.” Conrad said, “You got so shy when I tried to introduce you everyone, then you got overwhelmed and started crying and wanting to go home before they even got to cake and presents, and I couldn’t get you to stop—”
“Until someone asked us to play table hocky.” Lucky remembered, “I thought the puck was pretty. “She smiled “And you held my hand when I got scared of the dark during laser tag.”
“Right, I remember that now.” Conrad said. For a minute, neither of them said a word, then he asked, “Why can’t we be like that again?”
Are you going to keep that camera out of my face? Lucky thought, unconsciously glancing to see if he was filming right then. Surely his viewers would love the drama. Maybe he was bringing this all up just to create drama.
“Hey, what are you looking at?” Conrad asked, drawing out the question at the end.
Lucky froze for a moment, “Nothing.” She lied with an equally fake smile.
“No, no, that was something.” Conrad said, then glanced down at his phone, a strange look crossing his face before he got up.
Lucky turned in her seat. “Conrad please…”
Conrad didn’t respond, walking away.
What did I do, what did I do, what did I do…
#
The sentence kept reverberating in Lucky’s head. What did I do, what did I do, what did I do…
It went through her head when she went up to Conrad’s shut door, knocking it. “Conrad?” She knocked again. “Can you come out, please? Can we talk?”
No response.
What did I do, what did I do, what did I do…
“Whatever I did I’m sorry.” Lucky pleaded, “Can we talk? Please?”
Still no response.
What did I do, what did I do, what did I do…
She thought as she paced the floor, desperately fearing what happened next.
What did I do, what did I do, what did I do…
She shouldn’t have looked at the phone. She should have done anything but look at the phone. What would he do? Would he tell?
What did I do, what did I do, what did I do…
#
Going downstairs, she set down on the settee in the living room, hands in her lap, spine ramrod straight, just like the taught her in posture and body language class. Still the question rang in her head.
What did I do, what did I do…
By midmorning, she had to do something of she was going to go crazy. She wasn’t allowed to use the TV, not unless someone else in the room had it on, but she sat down on the couch, took the remote, and flipped it to one of those twenty-four news channels, hoping to fill her head with something other than that question.
On the screen was Prince Theored, looking very regal, standing in front of a dozen microphones, Mr. Hardgroves in the background as the teenager spoke.
“…when you insisted our people stay in the refugee camps for a while, that was understandable,” He was saying, “You didn’t know if they were friend or foe, you had a duty to your own people, but now I have sufficient evidence that you took advantage of their cooperation, stole their children and sold them off like dogs…”
What? Lucky thought, mouthing the word. What was he talking about?
However, before she could listen any further, footsteps rang out like thunder on the stairs, causing her to turn around to find Conrad, standing in the entryway with an almost manic grin on his face. “Lucky, how would you feel about a day out?”
“Huh?” Lucky responded, turning off the TV.
“That arcade where Billy had his party?” Conrad reminded her, “I looked it up, it’s still open.”
“You remembered the name from eight years ago?” Lucky questioned.
“I had to ask around,” Conrad said, running up to the couch, “But I found it, and it’s open right now. What do you say we go down, make a day of it, huh? Just like old times?”
“You know your parents don’t like me leaving the house without them…” Lucky reminded him.
“It’ll be our little secret.” Conrad reasoned, “Aggie won’t even know you’re gone, and I promise not to even pull out a camera.” His face fell, “I know I’ve had it out for way too much lately. Let me make it up to you, okay?”
Lucky examined the look on his face, the sincere contrition. This was his apology to her. And she was going to accept it. “Okay.”
Conrad pulled her into a hug. “Maybe we can find you something bit less conspicuous to wear.”
“And when your mom finds me in different clothes?” Lucky pointed out.
Conrad thought for a moment. “It’s not too hot for a coat.”
#
In a steel blue cape that covered most of her dress, Lucky aimed her hallow plastic modem at the flat orange disk, hitting it and sending it into the open slot.
“Ugh!” Conrad hissed as it whizzed past her, “I don’t remember you being as good at this.”
Lucky smiled as the disk came her way. “Last time I was child.” She pointed out as she defected it. She felt like she could beat anyone at this game. Like she could take on the world.
Perhaps she was a bit too hasty, as just then, she failed to block, causing Conrad to get the puck in her goal. She took it out and set up her serve, slinging it into Conrad’s goal.
“Whoa,” Conrad said, eyes wide, “I think you might make a decent real hocky player.” He sent the puck back to her which she managed to deflect.
“I don’t think your parents would take too kindly to that.” Lucky quipped. She said it as a joke, but something about it this caused this—strange little pit to form in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t good.
However, she quickly shook it off, pulling herself back to reality as Conrad was saying, “Alright, so what we need to first is fake your kidnapping.”
Lucky blinked, confused. “Excuse me.”
“Well, we can’t let my folks keep you from your hockey destiny.” Conrad reasoned, “So, the first step is to fake your kidnapping—no, your death. Yes, that’s it, your death, so they can’t come after you.”
Lucky couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, but what would we do about,” She made a circle around her emerald hued face, “This?”
Conrad mocked thinking, “A lot of makeup?”
#
They were still working on Lucky’s budding hocky career as they walked through the arcade, coming to two rows of pinball machines and shooting games that were all made some time before either teenager was born.
“Hey, what’s the X-Files?” Lucky asked, tilting her head a bit as she looked at one of the pin ball machine.
“Not sure,” Conrad admitted, “But I think it was big in the 90s.”
Looking at the one next to it with the image of Freddy Krugger front and center on the screen, Lucky cringed, muttering under her breath. “I remember that one.”
“Yeah, that’s the one that made you start to cry.” Conrad remembered.
“Well, can you blame me?” Lucky pointed out, pointing at.
Conrad laughed, before admitting, “Not really.”
Glancing at the different games, Lucky got an idea, “You want see of we can beat any of these.” After a beat she added, “Just not the Elm Street one. “ After a beat she added, “Seriously, what is going on, on that street?”
“That’s an activity for another day.” Conrad responded, “But, yeah, let’s go.”
With that he took her hand, rushing to the next machine.
She didn’t know the last time she had felt this free, this open. There was no one to impress, no secret social rules she would get in trouble for breaking. It was just her and Conrad, playing a game.
Why couldn’t it be this way always?
#
Eventually they got hungry and went to the small food stand the arcade had. “Okay, so the food’s pretty basic here. Burgers, pizza, ooh, bacon dogs, what tickles your fancy?”
“I…I don’t know.” Lucky admitted, looking at the menu board as if she asked could actually read it. She had been taught how to sing like classically trained Sparano, how to converse with prefect elocution, but for some reason it never occurred to anyone she might need to read a menu. It hadn’t really bothered her before, but now it was pricking at her brain, along with the question of what sounded good to her. What kind of food did she actually like? “Um, what were you thinking of getting?”
“I was actually thinking of getting one of those bacon dogs.” Conrad answered.
“Could I…Perhaps I could have one of those as well?” Lucky asked, “Please?”
Bacon dogs were the most delicious food ever, Lucky decided. It was crispy and savory and hot, and every bite made her want to moan with pleasure. “This…may be my new favorite food.”
“I can tell.” Conrad smirked, “We have got to feed you more.”
“I’ve never had anything like this before in my life. “Lucky reasoned, before putting the last of the bacon dog in her mouth.
That might have been a good thing because that was when Conrad’s phone rang. Looking down, his face fell. “It’s Mom.”
Lucky’s heart stopped, and suddenly she felt like she was going to throw up. “Had they been caught? Had Aggie realized they were gone and told Mrs. Oliverson?
“Alright, just—stay calm.” Conrad urged, seeing the look on her face, “We don’t know why she’s calling. Just—don’t assume the worst yet, okay?”
Lucky nodded, watching with bated breath as he answered the call, her stomach lurching. She couldn’t take it. She was going to throw up.
She managed to make it to the women’s bathroom, falling to her knees in front of the toilet in her the stall, her mouth forcing opening as she reached, hot bile gushing from her throat, the disgusting, salty taste covering her tongue before it hit the water with a disgusting splash. She waited a moment, then felt more come up. Reaching, she felt the hot sensation, felt the awful tase.
As it happened for a third time, she didn’t hear anyone come in, didn’t hear her name being called or the stall opening until there was a hand rubbing circles on her back, making Ssshing noises.
“It’s alright.” Conrad whispered, “It’s just me.”
By the fifth reach, Lucky didn’t think she had anything left inside, clear bile coming up. She just sat there for a few minutes, letting her stomach settle. “Do they know?”
“Yeah,” Conrad admitted gravely, “They know.”
#
The cab ride home was silent, neither of them really looking at each other as they stepped out, Conrad paying the driver. “Just let me do the talking, okay?” He instructed as they walked inside, to find both Mr. and Mrs. Oliverson waiting in the entryway, Mr. Oliverson looking annoyed, Mrs. Oliverson incensed.
“Look, it was my idea,” Conrad spoke up, physically getting in-between Lucky and his parents, “If you want to yell at somebody, yell at me, okay?”
“Conrad, go upstairs.” Mr. Oliverson said, his voice stone, “I’ll be up in a minute.”
Conrad glanced at Lucky apologetically for a moment before heading upstairs.
Lucky sat on the couch, hands in her lap, as Mrs. Oliverson yelled at her, calling her ungrateful, disobedient, and why couldn’t she just behave for once, did she realize how good she had it, where would be without them?
“You’d be on the floor on of some refugee center, starving in your own filth!” Mrs. Oliverson exclaimed, getting in Lucky’s face, and pointing her finger like a dagger. Lucky fought the impulse to pull away as the screams stabbed her eardrums and hot breath hit her face.
“And yet you insist on disrespecting us at every turn!” Mrs. Oliverson continued to shout, before gritting her teeth, “What was the plan?! Run off while Conrad’s back was turned?!”
That threw Lucky for a loop. Her mouth fell open, but she didn’t speak.
However, Mrs. Oliverson wasn’t done.
She was never none.
“If you think just because that his highness says he wants to take you all back the elven realms,” The term came out mockingly, “You can walk all over us, you have another thing coming—”
“Will you stop it?!”
Lucky knew better not to move, but Mrs. Oliverson looked towards her son, who appeared at the top of the stairs, his father following him.
“George…” Mrs. Oliverson began through gritted teeth.
“Well, how was Dad supposed to lecture me about protecting our ‘valuables’ with you down here screaming at the top of your lungs?” Conrad cut her off with the intonation of someone how had, had enough, “What part of ‘it was my idea’ do you not get? And all we did was go to arcade, it’s not like she’s smoking meth or something. I thought she was supposed to be a member of the family, not a prisoner.”
“Conrad, don’t speak to your mother that way!” Mr. Oliverson ordered.
Conrad whirled around. “What, don’t tell her truth? Lucky’s sixteen and isn’t allowed to pick out her own clothes and gets punished if she looks at either of you the wrong way. I mean, look at her,” He gestured towards where Lucky was sitting, “Sitting there with perfect poise while someone screams bloody murder in her face! Does that seem normal to you?”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Mr. Oliverson said, “Go to bed. Both of you. Now. “
Lucky sat there, afraid to move. Afraid they would change their minds and start yelling again.
“You heard him.” Mrs. Oliverson snapped, pointing towards the stairs.
Lucky slowly rose from the couch, still prepared to be told to sit back down. When she wasn’t she slowly walked up the stairs, while Conrad was waiting.
They walked in silence until they reached his door. “I just made it worst for you, didn’t I?”
“Probably.” Lucky admitted, her stomach knotting with dread at the thought of what tomorrow might bring. But there was something else, that prick at the back of her brain. “This isn’t how things are supposed to be, are they?”
Conrad shook his head. “That’s why I had to do something. This—we can’t go on with whatever this is.”
“I don’t hear doors shutting!” Mr. Oliverson suddenly called out.
“I’ll do what I can to make this right, Lucky.” Conrad said, opening his door, “I promise.”
Before Lucky could ask him what that meant, his door was shut. She walked to her own, entering the room. The wall was painted in sky blue and silver, the only adornment on the walls sliver-framed mirrors dotting the walls hither and dither, sliver-framed. She looked in one and saw herself. Black hair slightly mussed, the pink ribbon coming undone, looking like she was on the verge of tears.
She hated the way she looked.
Falling to floor, she wrapped her arms around her knees and began to sob, not hearing the door being locked from the other side.
#
“Come on.” Aggie said gruffly the next morning, the nano-second Lucky had finished the Ambrosia salad she had been given for breakfast.
Apparently, until further notice Lucky was to stay in her room, only being allowed down for meals. That was what been announced that morning when Aggie had come to help her dress. Apparently, the maid was basically her keeper until further notice, and she wasn’t happy about it.
“You can’t be serious about this!” Conrad protested and Lucky stood up, finding her forearm being grabbed, the sharp pain nails being dug into her skin. Turning back to his father, he said, “Dad, you have to see this is cruel. The don’t even treat criminals like this!”
“You both have to learn.” Mr. Oliverson said, casually sipping his coffee.
“Learn what?” Conrad countered, “That she can never leave the house…”
The fight went on as Lucky was pushed up the stairs. “See what you’ve caused?” Aggie hissed into her ear, “I always knew you were more trouble than you were worth.”
The rest of the walk was silent, before Lucky found herself shoved into the room, her knees and hands pained as they hit the floor. She turned her head just in time to see the door shut and locked.
At least no one could see what she was wearing. The dress Aggie put her in today was even worse than the last one; pastel yellow and pink and lavender with ruffles and bows and print light lavender rabbits that looked like they belong on nursery walls, her hair done in pigtails with multicolored ribbons. She felt like a doll again. A little toy people got to play with it.
She had nothing to do. No one to talk to. She tried to talk to Aggie when she took her down for lunch, only to get snapped at. Nothing to do but sit there with her thoughts and stare into mirrors. At that Lolita dress. At the ceiling. At the four-poster bed with it sliver-embroidered bedspread.
Well, stare and think.
Eventually she started thinking about that news broadcast she had seen the day before. What had they been talking about, about kids being stolen and sold? Who stole them?
Mrs. Oliverson had said something about that, hadn’t she? During her tirade last night? The prince wanting to take the stolen children back to elven realms, whatever that meant. But that couldn’t have been about her, could it? She hadn’t been stolen; she had been given up. The Oliversons had shown her the paperwork and everything, once, when she was younger.
She didn’t even want you. She signed you away without a second thought. You’re lucky we wanted you, gave you a home. And we can toss you right out again.
For a minute she wished they would. Then she wouldn’t be screamed at, wouldn’t be shown off like a trophy, wouldn’t be in this dumb dress! Really, what was the appeal? She didn’t get it.
But then…where would she be? She couldn’t read, couldn’t even do basic math, didn’t know how to cook, or use an ATM, had no usable skills. Or a social security number. Or money. Or way to get money.
Which was what they wanted wasn’t it?
For the rest of the day, her mind went back and forth like this, picking apart her entire life. Why it was their fault. Why it was her fault. Why it was Conrad fault.
She had told him she wasn’t supposed to go out, didn’t he? She knew something was going to happen. Maybe not this, but something. He promised they wouldn’t find out, but they did! He said it himself, it was his idea, wasn’t it?
And he still got to go out. Got to go to school. Didn’t get locked away. All they did was take away his camera privileges. He knew it would be worse for her, and he goaded her anyway. Maybe that had been his plan all along! Create more drama for his vlog. Yes, she could see it now, him sobbing into the camera for his audience. Oh, they were loving this weren’t they?
Just then a was soft knock on the door, startling her out of her spiraling thoughts. “Lucky?” Conrad’s voice whispered from the other side of the side, “Lucky, it’s me. It’s Conrad.”
Him! That stupid boy had the nerve to show up after what he did to her! Enraged, Lucky threw herself in front of the door pounding it. “How dare you?! How dare you talk to me after what you did!”
“Lucky, Lucky clam down.” Conrad urged, “They’re going to hear you—”
“Don’t call me that!” She shouted, “I’m not lucky! What could possibly be lucky about living with people who hate you so much, and your only friend getting you locked up.” She broke down sobbing.
“If I thought they’d do this to you I would’ve never…” Conrad began.
“NO!” Lucky shouted at the door, pounding it, “You have nothing to say to me!”
Suddenly someone was screaming incoherently as Lucky ripped the dress. This cursed dress! She had to get out of it! She could hear the rip of the ruffles as they came off, the sleeve, before raising it over her head and throwing it off so she was in nothing but her petticoats, stays, chemise and tights. Oh, and those stupid Mary Jane shoes. Those would have to go. She kicked them off. When would that infernal screaming stop?!
“What is going on in there?!”
“Aggie, Mom, you have to let her out of there, she’s going bezerk, she’s going to hurt herself!”
Let them talk about her. She didn’t care. No, what mattered now was getting out of these petticoats!
She was tearing at them when Aggie opened the door, her face falling, her mouth open, but not saying a word.
Lucky turned, and suddenly there was a feral scream, a roar really as she charged. Filthy, wrenched woman, with her filthy wrenched eyes! Someone needed to claw them out!
That was when someone grabbed her, she thought at them, a growling coming from somewhere. “Lucky, Lucky, clam down,” Conrad voice urged, “It’s alright, I got you. I got you.”
Suddenly the growling turned to sobs, tears streaming down Lucky’s face as she realized where it had been coming from.
It had been her all along.
#
“We need to take her a hospital.”
The statement was made by Mr. Oliverson, standing outside the door of Lucky room as she lay curled up on the bed, Conrad by her side. She hadn’t moved since they calmed her down. She couldn’t bring herself to move, speak. Everything inside her just felt numb.
“We can’t do that.” Mrs. Oliverson whispered, “What will people think?”
“I think we have bigger problems than that right now.” Mr. Oliverson hissed pass, “She is having some sort of mental health crisis right now.”
“Oh, you’re talking about her like she’s a human.” Mrs. Oliverson brushed him off dismissively, literally waving her hand.
“Portia!” Mr. Oliverson snapped, “You saw what just happened.”
“Alright, we’ll let her out of her room,” Mrs. Oliverson whispered back.
“And she can dress herself again.” Mr. Oliverson added.
So, that’s it? Conrad thought, looking ahead and running fingers through Lucky’s hair, removing one of the damaged ribbons. They’re not even going to try to help her?
Well, if they weren’t going to help Lucky, Conrad decided, he would.
And they wouldn’t like how he did it.
#
The next day she was allowed to dress herself, and Mrs. Oliverson was apparently done with her passive-aggressive Lolita dress punishment. Today she was given an icy blue gown with puffed sleeves and yards of slivery embroidered roses that ran all over the dress. She did her hair in a smooth braid, finishing the outfit off with the string of pearls she had been given.
Her mind felt strange. Like her consciousness had somehow gotten out of sync with her body, and every step was inviting something to happen. Somehow, there was another bomb about to drop.
As she was doing her hair, she heard a knock, causing her to jump. She whirled around and saw Conrad in the doorway, looking apprehensive. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” She said, stepping forward into the main room.
Conrad stepped into the room looking like he was expecting a bomb to go off with every step. “I just wanted to see how you were after…everything, yesterday.”
“Fine, all things considered.” Lucky said. After another beat, she added, “I’m sorry about…what I said yesterday. I don’t know what came over me.”
“I think I might.” Conrad said. After his own beat, he said, “Dad wanted to take you to the doctor, you know. But Mom was afraid…I’m sorry for what they’ve put you through. What we’ve put you through.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Lucky assured him, “I was just out of my head yesterday.”
“It’s not just yesterday…” Conrad began.
“Conrad!” Mrs. Oliverson’s voice called out, “Lucky! Time for breakfast!”
Once everyone left, Lucky found herself on her own again. It wasn’t like she was used to it, but there was something different about it today. Like any moment she could go insane again.
#
It was like for the next few days, walking on eggshells. Everyone else seemed to walk on eggshells for once, too. Like she was a wild animal that could attack at any moment. Like they couldn’t believe what happened either. Did it even really happen? Or was it all some grand delusion they had somehow collectively had?
#
Then the knock on the door came.
Lucky was sitting in the living room, perfectly poised, when she heard it, and then heard Aggie said, “Conrad, shouldn’t you be in school?”
Lucky’s heart jumped into her throat, turning her head. What was he going to do now?!
Aggie, however, wasn’t done. “And who are these two? Did you—oh, no, you didn’t go and buy another one, did you?! One’s bad enough!”
“Prince Theodred is what you could call a wild elf.” A new voice said.
Lucky turned in her seat. The prince was here?! What was he doing here?
“We simply wanted to speak to Lucky,” Prince Theodred’s voice up, confirming his presence, “Concerns have been made about the Oliverson’s treatment of her.”
“What do you mean like, abuse? That brat?” Aggie let out a scoff.
“If we could just speak to her, I’m sure we could clear the matter up quickly.” The other voice said, “Or at least let the prince speak to her. I’d like to speak to you myself a minutes Miss Marlow.”
There was a long silence. “Come on,” Aggie said finally, then Lucky heard the door shut.
Lucky turned her head, readjusting herself into a poised position, just in time for Aggie to walk into the room with the group. “Lucky, these men are here to see you. Behave yourself.”
“Of course,” Lucky smiled.
Aggie left with Agent Hargrooves, and Prince Theodred sat down across from her. “Please to see you again.” He said with a weak smile, “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”
“I’m pleased to see you again as well.” Lucky said trying to pull herself together, plastering on a pleasant smile as Conrad sat down next to her, “And what circumstances are these?”
Conrad adjusted herself to look at her. “I told him everything, Lucky. How Mom and Dead really treat you, what just happened, all of it.”
Lucky’s blood went cold, her heart beating faster. What had Conrad been thinking? “It’s not at dire as he probably made it out…it was simple misunderstanding, really…” Her voice got weaker, “I’m a good girl, really, I am.” She hated how her voice sounded. Like a little child.
“I have no doubt about that, Lucky,” Prince Theodred said, “You’re not the problem here. Before I begin, Conrad, you would make sure we’re not being overheard?”
Conrad got up and checked the entryway. “You’re good.”
The prince let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” He breathed, before turning his attention to Lucky, “Now, there’s a reason I came to the human realms. You see, when our people began to return, they told of outside groups tricking parents until signing over their children. They were told it was only temporary, until all elves could be successfully allowed some sort of status.”
Lucky tilted her head, not sure where this was going. One word stood out to her, though. “What do you mean by temporary?” All the pets she had met hadn’t seen their parents since they were handed over. There was nothing temporary about it.
“I mean they were supposed to get their children back either when they the government decided what to do with the refugees or it was safe to return to the elven realms.” Prince Theodred said, his voice become tense, more than a bit bitter, “For over a year now, the king’s council has been inundated with desperate parents begging for help finding their children. Some had no idea where they were, others had heard the humans were keeping them as house pets—”
Seeing how angry he was getting, Lucky felt flickers of panic began. She went straight, looking contrite and clam. Had she let her confusion show? Was he mad she wasn’t getting it?
However, that was when he regained his composure. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Please, please, don’t be frightened.” He looked terribly guilty.
Regaining her composure, she said, ““I’m sorry, really, I am, that sounds horrible, but I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
“You don’t?” Prince Theodred asked, an eyebrow raised.
It took her a minute to realize what he was getting it. “No, no way,” Lucky shook her head, “I wasn’t stolen. My mother didn’t even want me.”
Prince Theodred closed his eyes for a moment. “Lucky, I asked you this once before, but how do you know that?” He opened his eyes, “You said you didn’t remember your birth parents. So, someone had to told you that.”
Lucky could feel her eyes began to water as it all hit her again. “I’ve seen the paperwork,” She said, whipping her eyes, “My mother’s signature.”
“Alright, what language was the paperwork written in?” Prince Theodred questioned.
“How should I know, I can’t even—” Lucky began, then trailed off when she realized what she was admitting too.
“You can’t even read.” Prince Theodred finished for her, “They could’ve shown you a book report, their last will and testament, a magazine article, and you would have to take their word for it. Just like dozens of elven parents took the humans’ word for it when they said they were signing permission for a temporary foster situation. They could read, they just couldn’t read English. Which was the language the documents were written in.”
Lucky fell back, as it all hit her. She clutched at her forehead, trying to process everything she had just been told. Could this…could this really be real? “Why are you telling me this?”
Conrad spoke up, walking back over to them and crouching down in front of Lucky. “Because you could go with him. Back home.”
Lucky blinked. “Home? You mean, like, the Elven Realms?”
The boys nodded almost in unison.
“You mean the place I haven’t lived in since I was four and don’t even really remember?” Lucky almost deadpanned.
“It would be an adjustment I grant you.” Prince Theored admitted, “The few elves relinquished voluntarily by their owners have been dealing with heavy culture shock, I’ve been told, but we would have people to help you. We have the kingdoms top magicians and scribes trying to reunite families.”
Conrad rounded Lucky’s chair. “Which means they could find your mother.” He crouched down in front of her.
“What makes you think I even want to find my mother?” Lucky protested, shifting away from him, “Even if she didn’t know what she was signing, she still sent me away!”
“So, you could have food and a decent place to sleep!” Conrad pointed out, “Alright, maybe she shouldn’t have signed the documents without reading them, but—”
Lucky stood up, trying to get away from them. “You don’t even know that’s what happened! All you have is conjecture based on what happened to other people—” Her voice trailed off, not knowing what her argument even was. Besides, that wasn’t the problem. “I can’t just leave. My family’s here, my life is here—”
“Family?” Conrad repeated, “Lucky, this is not a family. You’re literally treated like a pet. If you go with him—you could have something more. Don’t you want that?”
Lucky just blinked. Suddenly, she could barely think. What did she want? She didn’t know. It was like the feeling that day at the food court, only worse.
As she just stood there, Prince Theodred stood up, pacing over to her and grabbing her forearms. “I’m sorry, Lucky, ideally I would like to give you more time to process, but I don’t know how long Agent Hargrooves can keep your housekeeper distracted.”
“This won’t…hurt her, will it?” Conrad asked.
“The spell is perfectly safe.” Prince Theodred assured him, then began to chant.
That was when Lucky realized what they were doing. Pulling away, she shouted, “You can’t kidnap me!” Yes, she didn’t want to go with him. If the Prince did this, he was kidnapping her.
“I wouldn’t call this kidnaping, more like forceful relocation.” Conrad spoke up.
“Well, you can’t do that either!” Lucky spat back, “Do you realize how hypocritical it is to act so concerned about someone’s autonomy and then take them against their will?!”
Prince Theodred sighed. “You’re right. Look, it appears I’m going to be in the human realm a long time arguing with various governments, and I’m going to be in town a few more days. Just—think about it, please?”
“There is no time for her to think about it!” Conrad declared, stepping in between them and facing Lucky, “Lucky, I’m sorry, but you know that Aggie’s going to tell Mom and Dad about this visit and once they find out…I’m sorry, I really should have thought this through. I keep doing that to you…” He trailed off for a minute, his expression pained, “Never mind that now. I can try to buffer for you as much as I can, and I promise you, I will do everything I can to make sure this doesn’t come back on you, or you can go with him. You know which one I’m rooting for, but…you’re right, it’s up to you.”
Lucky only heard half of his speech, her ears suddenly flooded, ringing, but she knew one thing for certain.
If they were going to find out about this would be so much worse than the arcade incident. Her fear of staying overtook her fear of going.
“Take me with you!” Lucky shouted, throwing herself at the prince, “Please!”
That was when they heard Aggie from the other room. “What is going on in there…”
“Quick, go!” Conrad pleaded, “I’ll deal with her!”
Prince Theodred grabbed Lucky by the shoulder and began chanting in language Lucky couldn’t understand, but still it seemed oddly familiar. Suddenly the world around her began to spin. Where was she anyway?
#
Just as suddenly as it happened, she found herself staring at a tesserae floor colored in various shades of bronze and yellow and pale green.
“Sorry about that.” Prince Theodred said as they righted themselves. “I’m still getting the hang of landings.”
Lucky looked around. They were in some sort of anti-chamber, the walls matching the floor but lined tall lancet windows of yellow and green stained glass, all seeming to meet at the top of a dome ceiling.
“This… this is the elven realm?” Lucky asked.
“Part of it at least.” Prince Theodred said, helping her feet, “We’ve been using one of our family’s villas as a home for youths while they get settled and we find their families. Come.”
As an elven pet, Lucky had seen very posh, opulent houses. The Olonorin’s villa put them all to shame. Grand halls lined with tapestries and paintings and more stain glass windows. Claw-footed furniture that looked like they were made of pure bronze. At last, they came to another center with a desk of all things, albeit made of bronze, where an elven woman sat.
Except for her faint memories, Lucky had never met an elf older than maybe twenty-six. This woman looked to be her early thirties, her dark hair pulled up into a bun, streaked with gray. Looking up when she heard someone come into the room, she quickly got to her feet, bowing. “Your highness.”
“Delimira.” Prince Theodred began, “This is Lucky Oliverson. Lucky, this is Delimira Waesran, headmistress for the dormitories, she’ll get your processed and show you to the ladies’ dorm.”
“Lucky,” Delimira repeated, more to herself than anyone else, “Someone thought they were being a saint. Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you started.”
Turning to Lucky, Prince Theodred said, “I’ll try to be back in a few days to check in, but for now, this is where I leave you.” He stepped away, chanting a few words again, then just like that, he was gone.
Lucky just stood there, staring in Delimira’s general direction, though not looking at anything particular, her head spinning. What was happening here? Was this really happening?”
“I know, it’s a lot to take in.” Delimira said gently, “Now, first thing’s first,” She looked up and down at Delimira, “Do you want to keep wearing that?”
That was how Lucky wound up in a room with every kind of clothing item she could imagine. Sweaters, jeans, t-shirts, tunics made of course-looking fabrics. Corduroy jackets and pants. Pimped out dresses in fine fabrics that looked like something out of a history book. Leather pieces Lucky wasn’t even sure what they were. All colored sepia, cyan, green, gold, brown, black, colors that Lucky didn’t know what they were called.
“You’re not the first one to be overwhelmed.” Delimira assured her, “Just—take your time, take breath, break it down to the next step. Find something comfortable.”
Lucky took her advice, inhaling. “You’re English is good.”
“I wouldn’t be too impressed, part of it’s a language spell.” Delimira said, “Thought, I am starting to pick up the language. In a few different dialects. I have few French phrases down, too.”
Lucky honestly didn’t know what she felt comfortable in. She had never even worn clothing like this before. In the end, she grabbed a pair of blue jeans and a baggy sweater striped with black and shades of gray.
The clothes were comfortable, but Lucky felt utterly bizarre wearing them. As if she might as well be naked. As Delimira walked by her side as they walked down the hall, she wrapped her arms around herself as if she was protecting something.
They came to a room where four elven girls the same age as her appeared to be setting up a tea table. None of them were dressed like any elven pet she had met before. One was in a green tank top and flowing brown peasant skirt that stop at her ankle, revealing brown ballet flats. Another in blue jeans and a baggy brown cardigan wrapped over a t-shirt of some kind. The next one appeared to have gone native, wearing a brown homespun tunic, and rough breeches. The fourth was wearing a knee-length black dress with a lacey Peter Pan collar, black and white ankle-socks with Mary Janes, all pulled off with red cross around her neck.
Lucky may not look good in Lolita fashion, but this girl really seemed to pull it off.
“Girls,” Delimira called out, getting their attention, “There’s someone I want you to meat. Girls, this is Lucky, she just got here from the human realms. “
The girl in gothic Lolita dress with slightly crimped hair stepped forward. “I’m Isolde.” She greeted with a slight English accent, “ This is Roxanne, Cassie, and Selphie. Welcome to club.”
“Club?” Lucky repeated nervously.
“The royally messed up club?” Roxanne, the girl in the brown cardigan with her hair in a messy side bun, spoke up in a thick southern accent.
The other exchanged annoyed looks.
“Well, am I saying anything that’s not true?” Roxanne countered.
“Anyway,” Isolde, who seemed to be the spokesperson for the group took over, “We decided to set up a proper afternoon tea. You know, like they do in England. Would you like to join us?”
Lucky had no clue if she wanted to join them or not. Still, she said, “Sure.”
“Alright then,” Delimira said, clasping her hand, “I’ll leave you to it, while I go contact the magician.”
As Delimira left the two groups just stared at each other for a moment. “Come on,” Isolde said, gently nudging her towards the table, “Sit down.”
As Lucky anxiously took a seat with the other girls, Isolde continued to ramble.
“So, two types of egg sandwiches aren’t normal, but we were working with what we had here, so we have just egg and then egg and watercress for the first course, scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream for the second course, and Battenburg cake and macrons for the third course. For tea, we have English Breakfast, Green Tea, and Jasmine tea. So, what tea do you want?”
Lucky just stared at the offered treats, her head spinning. What did she like? She had never even heard of some of this stuff before. It was the bacon dogs all over again!
Suddenly, she broke down into sobs.
Just as suddenly she felt a pair of arms around her, then another. Soon all four girls were hugging her.
“We know.” Selphie, the girl in the homespun and breeches spoke up, “We’ve all been too.”
“When they let me pick out my clothes, I almost threw up.” Roxanne said.
For the first time, Cassie, the girl in the peasant skirt, spoke. “It’s like we spent our whole lives…draining ourselves to make ourselves what people wanted, we had no clue who we are, really. We couldn’t tell you anything we like.”
“I still don’t know who I am.” Roxanne admitted.
“H-How do I find out who I am?” Lucky sobbed, then she thought she could feel a tissue being shoved into her hand. She dabbed at her eyes, breathing in and out.
“We’ll help you.” Isolde said, “One step at a time.”
Lucky continued to try and breath, before finally managing to steady herself enough to ask, “Got any recommendations?”