Chapter 12, The Visit

Chapter 12, The Visit

A Chapter by Naomi Bloom
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The twelfth chapter of the book "Wilde Horses Couldn't Stop Me."

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XXV


An hour later Milo was still feeling awful, although he had nearly stopped crying.  He suddenly heard a knock on the door.  He quickly wiped his eyes and opened it.  It was a servant.


“Your grace.  Sorry to disturb you but there is a guest here to see you.”


The king felt his body tense, “I’m sorry but I’m not feeling well.  Could you tell them to come back later?”


The servant nodded, “Sorry to hear about that, your majesty.  But I’m sure she’ll understand.”


“She?” Milo asked, “Who is it, out of curiosity?”


“Beatrice Wilde, sir.”


“She must be here for my archeology books.  Okay, never mind, send her in.”


Milo decided that it was time to face his fears, starting with Beatrice.  They met in the living room section of the royal suite.


“Milo, you look upset.  Are you feeling quite alright?” Beatrice asked.  Milo knew she was wondering if he had been crying.


“Oh no!  I’m fine.  I’m just nervous for tonight.”


“Oh, right,” she smiled, “Your anniversary.  Congratulations, by the way.”


“Thank you,” he said.  Some anniversary it had turned out to be so far.


He gestured to the study, “This is where I keep my good archeology books.  Take whatever you want, but just let me check over your final choices before you go, okay?”


“Sure.  Thanks again,” she said.  The spacious room had a forest green colour scheme, with plush green armchairs and couches as well as a few small desks.  It was a jungle of knowledge, with a bookcase that took up two of the four walls and books stacked everywhere.  Obviously, Milo and Kida had run out of room for the books and had begun to simply place them anywhere where they could find free space.  There were a few small windows on the walls, but since it was evening, three candles glowed softly, arbitrarily placed throughout the room, providing a dim light.  A large wooden desk stood in the corner of the room, hidden by countless books and papers.  Milo had begun to scour his small library for archeology books, sliding back and forth on a tall mahogany stepladder.  


“Your study is incredible.  You’re very generous,” Beatrice said.


“Generous?” Milo stopped searching through the books and began to tremble, “How can I be generous if I’m not even honest to people?”


As if he couldn’t control himself, he started crying again.  


They moved toward each other and Beatrice embraced him, “Oh, Milo.  What’s bothering you?”


“Everything,” he sniffled, “You were right.  A lie can get so ugly if you leave it for a long time.”


She smirked, “I hate to say I told you so, but,” she chuckled, “I told you so.”


“Ha ha, very funny.  Would you believe me if I said I’m going to confess tonight?”


“Nope,” she answered quickly.


“I know I keep saying I will and then I never follow through, but I think I can do it!”


“Whatever you say,” Beatrice said sarcastically, as she started perusing Milo’s bookshelves.


Milo sat in one of the green armchairs in his study and watched Beatrice pick out the books she wanted.  Occasionally he would point one out to her or tell her that the book she was looking at was off-limits.


“Oh, wow,” Beatrice examined a red book that was slightly tattered.


“Your grandfather.  He published a book?”


“A few, actually,” Milo took a closer look at the book she was holding, “‘Atlantis: Iceland’s Best Kept Secret.’  That was his only book on Atlantis.  It took him years to find a publisher for it, even with three other books out already.  The book meant so much to him.  His finest work.”


“I can tell that book is very special to you,” she paused, “Oh, look, another of his books,” she looked at it, “‘Obscure Lost Civilizations.’”


“That was his first book.  I wasn’t even born yet.  I think that was the year my parents got married.”


“It looks fascinating.”


Milo said, “You can have it, if you want.  Maybe I have a bias but I’d say it’s pretty definitive.”


“Really?  Are you sure?”


“Yeah,” he smiled at her, “think of it as a parting gift, to remind you of me.  I’m really going to miss you.”


Beatrice’s heart beat twice as fast and she started to blush.  She couldn’t believe Milo has just said something that nice about her.  She wondered if he truly meant it.


“I’ll... I’ll miss you too,” Beatrice wanted to lean in for a kiss, but she stopped herself.  It wasn’t right.


“You’ve all done so much for me.  If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably be dead,” she looked him in the eye, “I will never forget you.”


“Thank you,” he almost cried again and then tried to appear more calm, “Water?”


“Sure.”


Milo brought out two glass goblets full of water.  Suddenly he heard the low moan of ceremonial drums.  Then, the squeak of brass instruments joining the drums.  It was some kind of official ceremony.  Why hadn’t Kida told him?  Then he remembered.  


It was as if all the air had left his lungs.  His hands were suddenly too weak to hold the goblets , so they fell to the floor and smashed into hundreds of pieces.


“Milo?  What is it?”


“Kida is going to kill me.  Oh my God.  Kida is going to kill me,” he whispered with a fearful expression on his face, “Our anniversary.  It’s happening right now.  I’m half an hour late.”


Without saying more than that, Milo scrambled to get dressed in his fancy toga and cleaned himself up as well as he could.  


Right before he ran out the door, Beatrice stopped him, “Milo, I won’t be here that much longer.  I’ll probably come to your celebration in an hour or so.  Thanks again and don’t worry.  She’ll forgive you!”


“No problem!  Goodbye!” he ran toward the royal ballroom as fast as he could, muttering, “Beatrice, you have no idea.”



© 2013 Naomi Bloom


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Added on January 15, 2013
Last Updated on January 15, 2013
Tags: fan fiction, lost empire, atlantis, disney, wilde, horses, beatrice, milo thatch, beatrice wilde, kida, kidagakash, books, merging, worlds, washington, smithsonian, love, betrayal, decisions, forbid


Author

Naomi Bloom
Naomi Bloom

Ontario, Canada



About
An amateur writer of poems, short stories and other types of writing. I recently graduated from university and I am trying to figure out what to do with my life. Victorian England, name meanings, be.. more..

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