Crazy is as Crazy Does

*Hezzlie*

I’m trying to eat dinner. Mom is rambling on about the party, but I’m not paying any attention to her. My eyes are glued out the window to that spot in the forest from this morning.
The one where that enormous golden colored wolf stood and stared right at me.
I locked eyes with him. Don’t ask me how I know it was a male, but I do. Don’t even ask me how I managed to lock eyes with him when he was so far away, but I know he was looking at me.
He was so familiar, too, like maybe he’s the one I’ve been searching for in my dreams.
But I wasn’t afraid. Is that how far gone I am now? I see a huge beast standing in the forest staring at me, and I’m not even frightened? I must’ve lost my damn mind already.
“Honey? You heard me, right? Pink is a good color for your gown?”
I startle a little at my mother’s tone, blink, and say, “Huh? Oh, yeah. Pink’s… great. Pink is perfect.”
She sets her fork down. “Are you all right?”
“Never better,” I lie. I take a bite of my pasta salad but don’t taste it.
“Honey, I’m sure Wilma didn’t tell anyone about your conversation earlier, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Now it’s my turn to set my fork down. Mom wasn’t in the room when I was talking to Wilma earlier. Dr. Bolton had wanted to speak to her, so she’d been gone for about an hour. Wilma had come in, and I’d started asking questions about the royal family. I’d asked about the princess, and she’d clamped up. She’d said they aren’t allowed to talk about the princess, and I asked her if there was a princess, and she only sort-of shrugged. I asked her if I was the princess, and she cocked her head to the side. Then, I muttered, “Damn, what if I kissed my own brother? Like those freaks in that weird sci-fi movie everyone likes so much.” She’d asked me what I was talking about, but I told her never mind. Then I asked her about the wolf, and she made some quick excuse and left the room.
So how the fuck does Mom know about that?
“What did she say to you?” I demand.
“Nothing.” Mom realizes she’s screwed up. Her mouth is pretty big. Apparently, not as big as Wilma’s. “She just came in to speak to Dr. Bolton while I was in there. She was trying to be… confidential, but I gathered pretty quickly that you had asked her about a wolf. And maybe something else. About… Rowan.”
The sound that comes out of my mouth this time is a mix of a growl and an exasperated cry as I nearly pull my hair out. “So she did say something–to him. To you. Probably to half the castle. God, what if she went to Rowan?”
“Well, whatever she says to him, he’ll already know, right, baby? Did he… kiss you?”
“No!” I sound appalled, like she asked me if I made out with a walrus at the zoo. “No!”
“Sorry. Sorry, I just got the impression that… something happened. You two didn’t–”
“Mom, I beg you not to finish that sentence.” I push up from the table, taking a few steps back, trying to distance myself from a situation I cannot escape. “I am a virgin, thank you very much.”
She lets out a sigh like she was afraid I’d slept with the strange man who keeps waking me up from my nightmares. “Oh, good. Well, I am confused, but then, Wilma must’ve been confused. She thought you and Rowan had kissed.”
“She must’ve been confused.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s not like I even meant to tell Wilma.” God–note to self. Never say anything to Wilma again!
*Noted,* says that voice in my head, and I almost jump again.
“I’m sorry, honey.” Mom gets up and walks over to me. I want to spin away, but instead, I let her hug me. She’s missed out on months of hugs, after all. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
I’m about to tell her I’m sure it will be, too, even though I’m not sure about that when there’s a knock on the door that tells me Dr. Bolton wants to see me–again. We already spoke once today, but that was before he spoke to Mom. And Wilma.
“Come in!” Mom calls, stepping away from me. I think she must hope that it’s Dean. She’s been trying really hard on that front recently. But when James walks in, her smile doesn’t falter. “Oh, if it isn’t the handsome Dr. Bolton.”
His cheeks turn a shade more rosy. “Sorry to interrupt. If you’re done with dinner, I’d like to speak to you again for a few moments, Hezzlie.”
“We aren’t quite done yet,” Mom begins. “Perhaps you’d like to join us?”
I don’t let her get the whole statement out. “I’m done. If Mom wants to finish, we could go to your office?”
He hesitates, and I assume that’s because I’m probably not supposed to leave my room. “Okay,” he finally says.
Mom seems to accept this arrangement, even if the handsome doctor won’t be joining us. I follow Dr. Bolton out into the hallway and down the one on the other side of the stairs until we reach what must be his office. I absently wonder if his bedroom is also nearby. It’s not that far from my room. Why hasn’t he been the one to come when I’ve been having nightmares?
We walk inside, and I notice a portrait on the edge of his desk. It’s a blonde woman. She’s beautiful, and her arms are wrapped around a handsome man–Rowan.
James quickly grabs the photo and places it flat on his desk. I’m not sure if I should apologize, or if he should. What the fuck is going on? Is that the same woman that was in the picture on Rowan’s desk? I barely got a glimpse of that one when he was interrogating me, scaring the shit out of me when I’d first arrived and looked like a hobo.
“Have a seat.”
I take a seat across from him, noting his office is much smaller, darker, and cozier than Rowan’s.
He clears his throat, and I know he’s about to say something uncomfortable. “You, uhm, neglected to tell me what happened last night. Erm, this morning… when you were waking up.”
I stare at him like I have no idea what he’s talking about, but his hazel eyes stare into my soul, and I have to fess up. “It was an accident.”
“An accident?”
I nod, deciding this is what I’m going with. “Yes. I sat up quickly while Row–Alpha Row–uhm, the king was trying to wake me up and… our mouths bumped.” I throw in an exaggerated shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal. Didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”
He stares at me for several raging beats of my heart. “Yet, you mentioned it to Wilma.”
“No, I didn’t.” I shake my head with undo enthusiasm. “I mumbled something under my breath that she heard.”
“Well, nevertheless, she knows, and now everyone in the kingdom knows.”
I let out a sigh and close my eyes, thinking about how much more angry Rowan must be than usual. “Oops.”
“Yes, and this other business you were asking her about… about the princess?”
I nod. “Just trying to get to know about the royal family is all.”
“Okay, well… don’t. Don’t ask about a princess–the princess–any princesses, okay? We don’t… we don’t talk about that.”
“I know. I heard–”
He cuts me off. “You are not the Alpha’s sister. You are not related to him in any way. I’m not sure what gave you the impression that you might be, but you’re not.”
I think about telling him I saw the cufflinks on the picture in the library, but that sounds stupid right now, so I only nod and murmur, “My bad.”
“For the next few nights, I should be the one who comes into your room when you’re having a bad dream. That is the plan, anyway.”
“Good.” I mean it. As much as I like staring at Rowan without his shirt on, and now that I know that he’s not my brother that seems even more tempting, I don’t want to see him again. Not when he knows I apparently started a horrible rumor about him kissing me in my sleep.
“If you have any other questions, I would appreciate it if you asked me and not Wilma or anyone else,” he continues, his voice taking on a clinical tone. “It’s the best way to make sure you get accurate information. I will not be able to tell you everything you ask about, but I will be able to answer you more honestly and thoroughly than anyone else in the castle.”
“Got it,” I tell him. He stands, and I know that’s my cue to stand and leave the room, but he just told me to ask him, so I blurt, “Who is she?”
“Who is who?” His forehead puckers like he really has no idea who I’m talking about.
Nervous laughter explodes from my mouth. “The blonde in the picture.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” and he comes around his desk, escorting me toward the door.
I narrow my eyes but don’t say anything else. If he really wants me to stop asking questions of people like Wilma, he should give me more to go off.
We are about halfway through the door when I say, “She didn’t mention the wolf?”
“Oh, she did. But there are lots of wolves in these woods,” he says dismissively. “I’m not surprised you saw one. Not a big deal.”
“Right.” I guess she didn’t mention it was an enormous wolf. That’s fine–we can both pretend that it was perfectly normal, and I’m not crazy.
I’m not–am I?
*You’re not.*