Chapter Text
“Here it is the grand Pearl palace!” My tour guide says as we stop in front of the grand entrance. It really is as magnificent as the brochure said it was. Decked out in what seems like millions of pearls and other gemstones; it really is a sight to behold. The white exterior shines in the sunlight, and even though it’s been standing for thousands of years, it doesn’t seem like it has started to decay at all.
“As you can see the palace has not showed any signs of decay in all of the years! Rumor has it that back then the inhabitants of the palace placed a magical spell upon the structure, so that it would stand for eons,” the tour guide says as if reading my mind. Magic? What an idea.
The tour guide leads us deeper in the palace, saying little facts about things as we pass them. He tells us about the Pearl Emperor, Fredrick Vanderberg, as we stop in front of a portrait of him in the hall. He was a stout man with steely grey eyes and dark hair. I imagine he would’ve been very handsome in his youth, but now? His portrait alone gave me the creeps. Next to his portrait was one of the whole Vanderberg family; the emperor, his wife, and their three sons. The empress was gorgeous, she had long blonde hair, and eyes the color of sapphires. The two younger boys had their mother’s hair color, and both had grey-blue eyes. Although the younger one had freckles painted on, like he’d spent copious time in the sun. The third made me stop and really look, he had his father’s dark hair and his mother’s sapphire eyes, high cheekbones, a faint dusting of freckles, and aristocratic eyebrows. He had a mischievous smile painted across his full lips. The tour guide starts to lead the group away, but I linger studying the eldest prince some more. I couldn’t help but feel like I knew him from somewhere.
I realize I’m falling behind and go to catch up with the group. As I pass an empty corridor I hear faint sounds of children giggling and a little girls voice saying “Nikki come catch me,” but when I look there are no children in sight. It gives me chills as I finally catch up to the group. The tour guide is now telling the group about the grand dining room and it’s ornate ceiling paintings. Looking at them I couldn’t help but think if I lived here; that I would love to lay on the carpet, and just study the details of the extravagant painting.
The final stop for the downstairs, is a grand throne room that is blocked off with red ropes. It’s grand, a huge staircase leading into a giant ballroom set up, rows upon rows of chairs flank the stairs almost like you would see in an auditorium. Unlike the rest of the palace we’ve seen so far, this room is in disarray. Curtains are ripped from the windows, the floor is cracked and stained. There were stones, no giant emeralds, protruding from the middle of the thrones, separating them in half. The ceiling, has cracked beams and empty chains which probably once held beautiful chandeliers. Our tour guide starts explaining that in 1722 a battle broke out during a celebratory ball, and the whole imperial family was killed, including the lost princess.
With that he moves on, and leads us further down the hall. Lost princess? I’d heard lots of things about the pearl palace while doing research, but nothing about her. I feel like for a second I could hear the screams of panicked partygoers, and a voice saying “Isabella hurry this way!” in a frantic tone. As I leave the velvet ropes the voices fade. I’m starting to think that this palace could be haunted. It wouldn’t be surprising with the tragedy that occurred here. The whole family dead in one night? It’s just horrific.
The tour guide leads us up another staircase at the end of the hall, which showcases the living quarters of the imperial family and its honored guests. We tour: the emperor’s and empress’s rooms, the family parlor, and the princes’ rooms.
The rooms are ornate, but each have little touches to them that are personal. In the emperor’s room there were untouched documents and glasses placed across an oak desk. In the empress’s room a tea cup and jewelry still strewn across the vanity. Same goes for the princes’ rooms. The youngest prince, Gregory, has riding gloves and garments still strewn across his bed. In the middle prince’s room, Stefan, there are open books, quills, and stacks of parchment strewn about the room. Finally in the oldest prince’s room, Nikolai, there are boots still by the door, a dead flower in a vase by his bedside, and a sword hanging on a hook by the window. It’s all quite sad, their rooms are frozen in time, they expected to come back here. They never got the chance.
“As our last stop of the tour before we head to tour the gardens, we’ll enter the lost princess’s room. She was the most honored guest here at the palace and she even lived here most of her life, among the family,” our tour guide tells us. When we enter the room, that pesky familiar feeling creeps up on me again. It is as ornate as the rest of the rooms:the walls are a dusty rose color, there’s a huge four poster bed draped in gossamer like fabric, a vanity covered in old makeup with a jewelry box spilling with expensive looking jewels,, a changing screen, there are books on the bedside table, a shawl thrown over the back of a chair, and even what looks like a cat bed in the corner.
“What makes her a ‘lost’ princess?” Someone in the group asks.
“Excellent question! Isabella Beaumont was the only princess of the emerald lands, she was brought here at the age of eight to soothe relations between her kingdom and the pearl’s. She spent most of her life with the Pearl family. It was actually a ball in honor of her eighteenth birthday that was the last here at the palace. It was said the empress was extremely fond of her and even referred to her as the ‘daughter she never had’. The princes also referred to her as someone they cherished dearly, one even saying in a personal diary entry, “Bella is my most trusted confidant. She has been there all my life, and always knows how to soothe my troubled mind. I love her dearly.”
She is referred to as lost because the night of the end of the imperial family’s reign she was said to have disappeared. No body was ever found and some accounts said they saw her escape that night. The rumors going around at the time was, that she went and lived out her life somewhere quiet after the loss of her adoptive family.” The tour guide tells us and I cling to every word. Could she really have survived such a horrific event that killed those closest to her?
As we exit the room there is a portrait across the hall that the tour guide gestures to, it makes me stop dead in my tracks. “This is a portrait of Isabella, taken a couple days before her eighteenth birthday,” our guide says, but I feel like I’m hearing it underwater.
The lingering feeling of familiarity fell over me again, and I heard a deep chuckle followed by a voice,
“Bella sit still, you know mother wouldn’t approve of you messing up another portrait.”
“Gregory you know I can’t stand these, plus Stefan told me another book came in for me today…” the voices faded.
It was like looking in a mirror. The same blonde hair, the same green eyes, same nose, our lips were even shaped the same. I felt like I was going to pass out, or throw up, maybe both. Why did she look like me? Maybe she did survive and we were distant relatives. It was all so trippy I felt like I needed to sit down.
Without skipping a beat the tour guide leads us back down the staircase and out grand glass French doors to the gardens. He tells us that this is a time for us to go explore on our own and that we would be doing the rest of the tour after. I don’t waste a second and find my feet taking me to a secluded spot in the garden. I find a bench facing a bed of daffodils and finally sit down with my head in my hands. I felt like I was going crazy here. First all of the voices, then me looking identical to the lost princess, it was too much.
A voice interrupts my inner thoughts about being crazy, “I couldn’t help but noticed you looked troubled earlier and I came to check on you!” It was our tour guide.
I chuckle and respond, “Sorry I think all of the jet lag has finally caught up to me, do you want to sit?” I say and pat the spot next to me. He obliges and sits next to me quietly, but says nothing. After the silence becomes to much I say, “I didn’t catch your name earlier, I’m Evangeline DeLacour!”
“My name is Gregory, nice to meet you Evangeline, tell me how did you come to get such a name, it is quite beautiful,” He says.
“It’s a long story, but I gave it to myself, I lost most of my memories in a horrible car accident, and when I woke up from my coma, all I could remember was the name Evangeline! DeLacour is just a pretty last name so I went with it,” I laugh. He chuckles and faces towards me and I finally get a good look at his face. “Wow, you look just like the princes in that portrait in the hall.” I blurt out.
“Well I am from here, so I’ve been told that once or twice, come to think of it you are a dead ringer for Isabella Beaumont. Is there a chance you are from the southern part of the continent?”
“No I’m actually not from this continent at all. I live on the western continent. Just doing some traveling before college this summer. This is actually my last stop before I go back home!” I tell him.
A pleasant silence falls between us and I’m admiring the daffodils when he breaks it, “You know Isabella’s favorite spot in the gardens was right here. She used to come here to think all the time. She adored daffodils too, you could never find her not smelling of them. Nikolai had the gardeners plant the daffodils right in front of this bench, so she could gaze upon them anytime she wanted. God he was so obsessed with her, he kept a daffodil on his bedside table every day, just to be reminded of her.”
“Wow! You really know your stuff, it sounds like you knew these people personally from how detailed you tell the history! Where did you find these accounts? In a personal diary like the other entries about her?” I ask him.
“If I told you I just knew would you believe me?” He chuckles slightly.
“No I don’t believe I would,” I laugh looking at him stunned. How could he even suggest such a thing, he’s definitely pulling my leg.
“What if I told you the voices you’ve been hearing aren’t you going crazy? Would you believe me then? Your memories have to be triggered by coming here. Surely you would have had some flashbacks by now. Don’t you remember me? How about Nikki or Stefan. Even our bastard father? You remembered mother when you awoke. Evangeline Vanderberg, you have been going by her name,” he speaks quickly and I feel like I’ve stopped breathing.
“Wait —you..you! what are you implying? That I am—that you are…Gregory. Gregory Vanderberg? That’s preposterous. Can you even hear how—how crazy you sound? I have to get—I have to go,” I say panicking. I get up from the bench but he grabs my wrist.
“I’ve been waiting for you to show up here for almost 2 years, and here you are. Just like we planned. Just like it was always meant to be. When you get back this time, make sure to not let go of my hand again. Ok?” He says to me softly.
“Get back? From where—what the hell are you going on about? You’re ins—“
He cuts me off by placing both of his hands on either sides of my head and pressing a kiss to my forehead. “See you soon my Bella,” he says.
The next thing I know the world is falling out from under me and everything goes black.