Part 26

With the keys secure and my access to the rest of my family’s room safely in my lap I was able to rest.

I had certainly talked too much today, my voice wasn't coming out anymore even if I was trying to speak.

Lionel was puttering about the room, fixing the pillows around me, straightening up the bed which had just been freshly made by some of the maids that Bethany had sent over, and drawing the thin gauzy curtains that my mother loved shut over the bright windows.

“These curtains certainly don't block much light…” he was staring at the barely darkened room, the material was thin and light making it so you could see out of the room even with them closed. They cast pretty shadows of different colors across the walls as the sunshine filtered through them. “Maybe they have some heavier ones in storage somewhere that we can put up?”

“His Majesty preferred these.” one of the girls motioned to the curtains, “they aren't meant to block out light, they're meant to soften it throughout the room.”

“But… curtains are meant to block light. How is she going to take a nap if the room is this bright?”

The two of them continued to bicker back and forth as I settled lower into the soft pillows that were on my father’s reading couch. It was just as comfy as I remembered in here and it still smelled like the perfumes my mother would wear and spritz around the room.

I was falling asleep right where I was, curled up in the pile of pillows that Lionel had propped up around me and snuggling deeper into the blanket that he had grabbed from the end of their bed. It was the soft gray one that my mother would use like a cloak on cold mornings and in winter evenings. He would throw it around his shoulders slip his arms through some of the folds and walk around as it billowed behind him like a fluffy cape.

I could almost forget what had happened like this, it was almost like I was back to when they were still here. Curling up and dozing off my parents whispered with their heads close together right next to me while the moon rose higher and higher up in the window.

Almost.

Lionel gently shook me from my dozing, insisting that I couldn't sleep on the couch. He scooped me up and gently settled me onto my parent's bed, helping me get tucked in and comfortable.

“I’ll be right outside in the sitting room if you need me.” He smiled softly at me before slipping out of the door and closing it quietly behind him.

I had meant to stay awake for a bit longer, to look around and start gathering some treasures from my mother and father, to find something to stash all the things I wished to gather later tonight from my brother cousins, and uncles. Instead, I slipped off to sleep, the fastest I had in a long time.

Happily wrapped up in the blankets my parents used to wrap me up in whenever it was storming outside and I was too terrified to sleep by myself. Curled up against the pillows they would turn into little mountains and fortresses when my brother and I wanted to play castles and dragons with them.

I slept through dinner, which I barely remember Lionel waking me up for and carefully helping me eat in my half-asleep state. Then I slept through the quick visit from the palace doctor, the worried mumbling between him and Lionel sounding far off as I drifted back to my cozy dreams.

I didn't wake up until the small sliver of the moon was shining bright and high through the large window that overlooked the garden from the treetops. Mother’s and father’s room was situated over the family foyer, their big arched window sat right on top of the grand window that looked out from between the two Mongolia trees. Their view peered out from between the pink flowering branches.

The lightweight curtains barely blocked my view of the stars, the colorful muslin allowing the glowing sparks to be seen from where I was lying.

Still, I wanted to see them even clearer than they were now.

I carefully pushed myself up from the bed, untangling the blankets and pillows from around me as I moved to the edge of the bed. It was higher off the ground than the others, often-times when I was smaller my parents would need to help me up and down it.

Now though, as I swung my legs on its side, my feet could reach the plush carpet on the floor beneath it. I tried to put some weight on my shaky legs, but they began to buckle beneath me once again.

How would I get to the window? I wanted to move the curtains and see the stars without any interference, like how my father would show them to me when he would rock me to sleep in his arms when I was little.

Standing in front of the window, the curtains held to the side by the small hook on the wall, swaying back and forth as he would sing little songs about the lights in the sky and pet my hair until I fell asleep in his hold.

I wanted to see them again, to point out and name them as my brother and I had done for so long. To recall the stories and history behind the ones that my father would tell us about.

There was far more furniture in this room than there was in the one I had been staying in. There were tables and couches close to the bed and window, I could use them to hold myself up or to pull myself along to the window.

The arching glass reached the floor, so I would be able to sit on the stone near it to look out of the window. I wouldn't have to try and pull myself up by the curtains to see anything.

Pulling myself off of the bed and onto the thick woven rug that lay underneath the bed that my mother had gotten from his homelands, I landed on my knees. Raising myself on them shakily I reached out to cling onto the draping blankets of the bed.

I carefully pull myself along the bedside, gently shuffling on my knees as I do. Slowly, very slowly, and painfully I make my way across the bed to the dark wood end table at its head. I bring my arms away from the bed, stretching them up and out towards the solid table at my side. It takes more effort to keep myself pulled up on the hard surface than it did to pull and grasp at the blankets and bedsheets.

From one surface to another, from one piece of familiar furniture to the next, I pulled and shuffled my way to the window. Off of one woven rug onto another soft carpet and off of that onto the stone floor, I dragged myself along the floor. Shuffling along on my knees and dragging myself along with the furniture.

Clinging to the soft sides of lounges or heavy blankets, handing off of the sides and back of the high claw-footed couches and chairs, or pulling myself along by the table tops and sides of tables, desks, and towering bookshelves.

Slowly, ever so slowly, and painfully I brought myself from the bed to the window. I had to crawl across the last bit of the floor, dragging myself across the stones until I could press up against the cold glass.

Brushing the curtains aside I slide up as close as I can, leaning against the clear panes and fogging them up with my breath. The curtains fluttered shut around me, cooning me against the window as I stared breathlessly up at the stars that shone through the sky.

I could see the familiar shapes and clusters of glowing dots in the inky drapery of the night sky. The names and stories my father would whisper to my brother and I would flood back into my memory as I gazed upon them all.

The little sparkling groups and solo stars that my brother and I had named ourselves and come up with countless stories for were shining brightly at me. The laughter and little arguments would have returned to me as I stared at them fondly.