Chapter 26: The Truth at Last

Chapter 26: The Truth at Last

A broken promise brought to bare.
A story shared and heard in fair.
A protector gives real respite.
Christina decides not to hide.

Lena had told me to go to my room and 'play'. I had without a doubt failed her at that. Pacing back and forth across the length of my room, I had no idea what to do. It had been over three hours since Hazel had left, but I wasn't any closer to coming up with a plan for what I was going to do.

The first part was easy. I stashed my family's pendant in a tiny little hidden nook inside my mother's music box, somewhere I was relatively confident that my guardians wouldn't find it. But as for Argus . . . I couldn't even put him down. I honestly wasn't sure if my body would have let me even if I wanted to, and I really didn't want to. On top of that, one of my guardians would come to check on me any minute now, like they did every night before bed. Honestly, with it being more than half past eight, I was surprised nobody had come already. Usually my guardians were far more punctual than this.

Yet despite the extra time to come up with some kind of plan regarding what I might say, I had nothing. Worse than nothing, I was panicking. What would my guardians do when they saw Argus? Get angry? Demand to know where he came from? Take him? Send him back? . . . Throw him away?

No, I wouldn't let them take him, no matter what. Argus belonged with me, at my side. No matter what they might do or say, I would stand up for him. For once I would actually say no. I would beg, cry, scream, even plead to Lena about how she told me she would make things right. Anything to make sure Argus wasn't taken away from me.

Even as I promised myself all of that, in the back of my head I knew that none of it would matter. If they wanted him gone, there wasn't anything I could ultimately do.

I was so distracted that I hadn't even gotten myself dressed for the night. I hadn't put on my pajamas or gotten myself changed into a diaper. In the back of my head I knew that if Lena or Cynthia came to find me like this, especially when it was already late, it wouldn't go well for me. But despite being aware of that, I was stuck in a state of inaction. It's not like I could get myself changed, that would mean I would have to put Argus down.

As I nervously paced around, my eyes happened across Arthur, who was still placed haphazardly on my bed. Lena had gotten Arthur for me, and it meant a lot to me at the time, or at least I think it did. But the thought of him in place of Argus nearly made me sick. Why did I care so much more about Argus, couldn't I be happy with Lena's gift?

But looking down to my friend between my arms made it obvious. I could remember every single time he was there for me. I remembered being young and begging my father to let me bring him along to formal functions, refusing to put him down when my mother tried to tell me he needed a wash. I remembered growing up, feeling guilty as I spent less time with him, how my heart would break at the idea of him being lonely, praying that he would understand that I still loved him so so much. I remembered each night I was kept awake by stupid thoughts, like how if in some disaster our entire home was lost in a fire, I imagined I would brave the flames to make sure he got out safely, because I couldn't imagine letting him burn.

But I had done just that, hadn't I? Our house had fallen, and I didn't go back to get him. Even when I saw him and had the chance, I was too much of a coward to risk my guardians' disapproval. In the end, those were the flames I didn't brave.

I clutched Argus deeper into my chest, my fear and shame somehow powering my resolve. I wouldn't make that same mistake now, I wouldn't let him down again.

That's when I heard the sound of my doorknob turning, and Cynthia came in.

"I know I'm late, squirt. You better be settled for be-" She started to say as she entered.

But as the moment came and it turned out to be Cynthia who I would need to explain myself to, suddenly every inch of me panicked. I realized even in my resolve, I still had no real plan. And it all came out at once.

"I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't have him, but he's my childhood stuffie, and I lost him when everything changed, and I mean, I saw him again after that, but I promise I didn't sneak out and steal him! He means so so much to me, please don't take him away, I promise we'll both be good, please please please! I promise I didn't have anything to do with getting him, it wasn't even me that stole him-" I barely gave myself time to breathe as the mass of word vomit came flooding out of me.

Cynthia looked like she had already had a tiring night. Something about her usual casual smug glee was missing, and I would have wondered what had caused her to be this late if I wasn't quite as manic. Now on top of that she looked overwhelmed by my verbal assault, clearly trying and failing to parse everything I was saying.

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there." She said, raising up her hands as if taming a wild horse. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Argus between my arms. "Are you talking about the wolf? Did you say it was stolen?" She asked with a certain gravity to her voice.

Looking into her eyes, I was so afraid. She was already making up her mind. It wouldn't matter what I said to her, it never did. But then I looked down into Argus's eyes and remembered, I had to at least try.

"I- I promise I didn't steal him . . ." I whimpered, tears threatening to overtake me.

I fully expected Cynthia to walk over and snatch him from my grasp. I expected her to tell me exactly how irredeemable I was, and punish me right on the spot. Maybe if it had been Lena I might have had a chance, but no. That was who Cynthia was.

But instead I saw a flashing look of suspicion, but also another look that I didn't quite recognize . . . was it confliction? After a moment of inaction, she reached her hand to my shoulder and guided me to take a seat on my bed. She looked back at me now, not smug or upset, but a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "Okay. Calm down, and start from the beginning."

I was so shocked that Cynthia wanted to hear me out that it took me a second to pick up my jaw. But at the same time, I didn't want to waste more than a few seconds sitting there speechless. Even still, I had to take a moment. Where was the beginning?

"I've- . . . I've had him ever since I can remember. He was a gift from my mother. And he's always meant so much to me." I let my eyes start to drift, as I let myself reminisce to Cynthia about the past. "I used to fall asleep with him every single night, and for years carry him around with me every single day." I could feel my emotions welling up inside me. "He never judged me, or made me feel scared or alone. He only ever smiled at me, and helped it feel like everything was okay . . ."

My thoughts wandered in turn as I contemplated the present. "I- . . . I know Lena got me Arthur to help me feel better, and I really like him, I promise," I said, looking up at Cynthia, feeling for some reason that I needed her to believe me. " . . . But it just never felt the same." I exhaled, letting the truth flow out of me. "Especially with all the nightmares I've been having, almost every night. My mother used to tell me that wolves are our protectors, and I just thought that if I had my wolf here to protect me at night, then maybe the nightmares would go away." I said, slowly speaking more quietly, averting my eyes as I felt for some reason ashamed.

Cynthia looked at me . . . differently, and then nodded. It was so hard for me to read her, but there was something different there, that was for sure. There was a long few seconds of silence before she spoke. ". . . I can see why the wolf is so important to you." She said, hesitantly, yet still with a tepid softness that I wasn't sure if I had ever gotten from her before. "But, you need to tell me where you got it, and why you said it was stolen." She asked, returning to her colder demeanor.

My hands started trembling as I prepared to tell my guardian the truth that I had been conveniently withholding for months now. There wasn't any other way, no turning back now. "I have this friend . . . Her name is Hazel. I met her a while ago, the same day that Lena took me to the treasurer's office. That was when I saw that a lot of my family's old things were being kept there . . . But I met Hazel on the street that day, and we saw each other a few times after that," I realized just how disorganized I was as I spoke. Rambling on as I tried to give as much information as possible in order to justify myself, while also realizing how close I was to revealing past lies that I had told in order to hide my friendship with Hazel. "One time, I told her about how much I missed him," I said, giving Argus a squeeze. "And then earlier tonight, she brought him to me." I finished. "Technically, I don't know for certain that he was stolen, but . . ." I trailed off, knowing that was false in nearly every way, Hazel had even admitted it to me.

I didn't want Cynthia to think Hazel was a bad person, she wasn't. Even if she did steal Argus, she did it for me. She didn't deserve to be judged like that. "I really like my friend. She's . . . A little rough, sarcastic, lives on the street, makes fun of me a lot . . . But she's also really nice. She listens to me, jokes with me, goes out of her way to find and spend time with me." I thought about our friendship, it wasn't normal. At first I felt like I needed to explain it to Cynthia, but then I started to get lost in how I felt about her. "I don't know, she just feels like the one person I don't feel judged by, who I don't have to worry about letting down."

I wasn't sure how to feel about the words as they left my mouth. They were completely true, but I still felt guilty for saying them. I kept my eyes lowered, unsure how Cynthia would see me, understand me. But holding Argus with my eyes and head lowered, I was nearly smothering myself in him. I wasn't willing to let go of him. Not now, not ever.

And so I waited.

Cynthia looked at me seriously, her face still devoid of her signature smug smile. It almost looked like she realized something, something that didn't necessarily make her upset, but definitely didn't make her happy. As she looked at me, her eyes just barely shifting in place, I could tell she was contemplating what to do. It was strange to me for the sorceress to take this long to make up her mind. I was so used to seeing her act with such conviction. She never felt bad, and I had never seen her second-guess. But something was different about her this time. She looked . . . tired. She even looked a little sad?

Finally, she responded.

"Does he have a name?"

I blinked back my sudden confusion. I was completely unprepared for the question. All I had just told her, being inches away from revealing direct lies, my friendship with a criminal, my complicity in a crime, and she wanted to know my stuffed animal's name?

I cautiously nodded. "His . . . His name is Argus . . ." I responded, still fearing it was some kind of trap.

Cynthia smiled at me with soft kindness, and as I first saw it, a chill ran down my back. I had never seen her smile at me like this before, at least . . . not outside that one dream. This wasn't a trick of some kind, was it? Another game for her to play?

But no, instead she just earnestly continued. "Well, you can tell Argus that it's very nice to meet him, and I'm glad you have him back." Her tone was so foreign to me and how I knew her to be. She was soft, kind, gentle even. I was stunned into silence.

But Cynthia didn't wait for me to respond, after a moment she stood up from my bed. Her next words were ones spoken in a far more familiar way. "Now, it's time for bed."

Hearing her go back to her usual attitude, I had to shake myself out of my baffled state of mind. I quickly started to go back to my normal state of panic, currently revolving around the fact that I hadn't prepared myself for my normal bedtime at all, and was now worried that Cynthia would demand to watch me change into a diaper in front of her like I had once before.

But I was surprised again. "I can tell that you've had . . . a bit of an emotional day. Because of that I won't be upset that you're not at all changed for bed. I'm going to come back in ten minutes, and by that time I expect that you'll be completely ready, diapered butt and all. Understood?" She said, her voice still hard and controlled, but . . . there was a small kind of understanding in there too.

I nodded silently, almost as if in a trance that any spoken word might break. But as a moment wordlessly passed with me nodding along, Cynthia's look quickly turned flat and unamused, raising an eyebrow at me as if to imply I knew better. "Come on, Christina. What do you say?"

I widened my eyes as I realized what I was missing. "I will, I promise! Thank you!" I said, jolting up from the bed and shaking myself out of it once again.

Cynthia nodded, turning back around to the door. "Good girl." For a second I thought I even saw her let out a small silent chuckle, but I couldn't be sure.

As she departed, she stopped midway through the door to look back. "Don't make yourself regret this. You better be fully diapered, in your PJs and already in bed by the time I get back. No complaints, sad looks, or pouts. Zero, okay?" She warned me.

I . . . she really was trying to be nice to me. She didn't want to punish me? Every time I ever was on the other end of Cynthia's ire, I was convinced of how much she enjoyed it. I saw the look in her eyes, I saw the way she smiled at me. She wanted to put me in my place, each time. I was so certain of it. Yet . . . here she was, and I was just as certain, she didn't want to punish me. She maybe even wanted an excuse not to.

I looked back at her, and it felt like the walls up inside of me shifted just a tiny bit. "I won't. I promise . . ." I said, trailing off, yet more quietly certain in this response than I had been with my last.

My guardian gave me another unsure look, and I could tell she was even in this moment still debating something within her head. But without another word, she left.

I stood there motionless and silent. I wasn't sure how to react to everything that had just happened. Cynthia . . . she was so different from every other time I had seen her. She had already looked troubled when she got there, had something happened? Was that the reason she was late? Maybe she was just too tired to deal with me tonight, and tomorrow she would be back to her terrifying self. But even past that, the way she felt so . . . soft. She asked me for Argus's name, she smiled at me in such a gentle and sincere way. I had never seen her like that. What had happened for her to treat me like that now? What changed?

'You need to change, right now.' I thought to myself as I suddenly broke from my trance and darted over to my dressers. Cynthia was going to be back in less than ten minutes, I wasn't going to give her a reason to punish me after all that. I may have hated having to wear diapers most of the time, but in this instance, I was almost happy to do so.

Doing my best to hurry, I was even willing to put Argus down on my bed as I changed into my diaper. After that I slid into a set of pajama pants, and a sleep top that cut just above my belly button that even I thought was a little bit cute. Grabbing Argus once more, I stood up and looked at myself in my mirror. The loose pajama pants were baggy enough to hide most of the outline of my diaper, but not entirely. Not that it would have helped, in the end the padding peeked noticeably above my pajamas' waistline, and with the top I had chosen it was completely visible for anyone to see.

Clutching Argus into my chest, I looked at myself. I didn't even feel bad. Any other time I would have looked at the way I was forced to dress and been overwhelmed by disgust and despair, but not today. Today even as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I knew that the way I was dressed was insane, a cropped pajama top, and pants that let the colourful ruffled elastic waistband of my diaper peek out as plain as day. I should have been complaining, I should have been pouting, I should have been covered in sad looks. But holding Argus, I knew that everything would be okay. I may not have liked any of it, and I might have looked like a child, but my wolf was here to protect me anyway. No matter what.

Now that I had done as Cynthia had asked, I remembered there was one more thing that she asked me to do. I pulled my stuffed wolf back from my chest just enough that his head started to poke up towards my face. I looked into his little marble eyes.

"Cynthia told me to tell you that it was very nice to meet you, Argus." I said aloud so my toy could hear me.

"And that she's very glad that I have you back."

**********************************

Cynthia shut Christina's door behind her as she walked aimlessly into the hallway. 'What am I doing?' She thought to herself. The girl had just admitted to so much, she should be punishing her. Instead she was letting her get off easy? What was wrong with her?

She had just gotten back from her exhausting encounter with Christina's friend, Hazel, and then immediately after, their ward had freely admitted so much. Letting an intruder into the house, lying, taking stolen property, clearly hiding so much more, and gods know what else. She had every reason to punish the girl.

But at the same time, it didn't feel right. Something about it all, how she talked about what the toy means to her, the way she looked when she mentioned that maybe the wolf would help keep her nightmares at bay . . .

'Nightmares I gave her . . .'

She wasn't sure if it was guilt, charity, or sympathy that she was feeling right now, but the idea of disciplining the young girl didn't evoke any of the usual karmic enjoyment that Cynthia usually felt. As well, that street rat's words about being a bully rang in Cynthia's head. At least that was one other thing given to her by Christina. Despite how infuriating that girl had been in eluding the sorceress and keeping herself anonymous, Cynthia now had a name. Hazel. If nothing else, she could alert the peacekeepers corps that the girl had broken into and robbed the treasurer's office. No knowing what else that criminal might have stolen. If she could be apprehended, that could only be a good thing.

And of course she would have to tell Lena and Rowan all of this, about the friend, their intrusions, the toy, all of it. Lena needed to know everything as things with Christina were moving forward.

But even with all that, why did the idea of holding Christina accountable in the moment make her so uncomfortable? It was one of the main reasons they were doing all this, to teach Christina to be better than she was. She wouldn't learn anything if they let her get away with things. At the very least there should be consequences for the fact that even though Cynthia was so late to check on her, Christina hadn't even remotely made herself ready for bed.

But . . . Cynthia couldn't bring herself to do it, and she didn't even understand why.

'It- . . . It won't kill her to give the kid a break.' She thought to herself. Repeating what she had thought earlier as she left the capital. Her job was to keep Christina obedient and in line. Maybe part of that was knowing when not to enforce the rules. After all, Cynthia honestly believed that her ward had nothing to do with the theft. And if the toy was hers originally, what was the harm in letting her keep it?

She paced back towards their ward's bedroom. The ten minutes was nearly up. Time to make sure she did as she was told. As Cynthia approached the door, she heard something that stirred feelings in her.

" . . . to tell you that it was very nice to meet you, Argus." Rang Christina's voice, faintly from behind the door. Her words surprised the House Mistress. She barely thought about those words that she had said to the girl, asking her to tell them to her stuffed animal. But, to hear Christina say her words again . . .

"And that she's very glad that I have you back." Christina continued.

And Cynthia couldn't help but smile.