I watched my mind split between these two realities—contemporary New York and 17th century Beijing—as he made his way toward me. The hand he used to absentmindedly autograph the books of those who crossed his path was the same hand he used to strike down the guards that stood in his way within the Hall of Union. His hand moved fast both times, the pen glided over the page of the paper, already on to the next, while his sword simultaneously tore through flesh two at a time. I, on the other hand, held a sword that was busy cutting down those in black, those dressed like him!
“Esther?” “Princess?”
I heard both names, felt both hands grab my arm, and turned to see the same two faces, Li-Mei’s, here and then, the only difference being her hair color. I turned back to look at Malachi and saw that he was unable to get further due to the sheer number of people around him just like his past self. More guards flooded in front of me, forcing him and those he came with to retreat, just before doing so he looked up to me.
“You’re making it a bit obvious, aren’t you?” Li-Mei asked me.
I had to blink a few times as the second world drifted away and all I could see was the present. But my emotions hadn’t caught up yet, I still felt the terror within myself that had arisen at the realization that the distance between us was more than intangible space but that of tangible circumstance. A Princess and rebel.
“We are not them,” I whispered to myself.
“Huh?” Li-Mei asked me.
I shook my head and, shaking off her hand, I walked forward, repeating those words over and over again—we are not them. We were them but this wasn’t 17th century Beijing and I was not the Warrior Princess, daughter of the Emperor of who had executed his father, and he was not the Warrior Rebel who had helped to bring down the empire. I was Esther, a publisher, and he was Malachi, an author, both of us equally sufficient and insignificant at the same time. Both of us openly in a relationship now, which is why when I said, “I’m sure we have other authors to worry about!” Those around him rushed away which allowed me to step right beside him.
He smiled. “Careful or people might start to think you’re my girlfriend or something.”
I want to joke back but all I could do was stretch out my hand. The smile on his face faded a little, but as he looked into my eyes, he saw something, and whatever it was, I was grateful because he immediately took my hand and pulled me closer to him.
“We are not them.”
21. UNMERCIFUL
MALACHI
The city passed by in a blur and she remained silent as she gazed out the window. The setting sun cast a golden hue that reflected on the glass towers around us and gleamed through the gaps in alleyways as if the sun was trying its best to infiltrate the city one more time before setting into the horizon.
“Esther,” I called out and she jumped slightly before looking over to me. “Where are you right now?”
“Here,” she said sitting up straighter and taking my hand as the car pulled to a stop. “I’m right here with you.”
Taking her hand, I kissed the back of it before I opened the door and stepped out in front of her building.
“You know I’ve never brought a boy home before. Grandpa would have lost it,” she laughed and pulled me towards the revolving doors.
“I’ve been here before, remember?” I reminded her, allowing her to drag me.
“That was different. You came uninvited.” She nodded to the security guard before taking me to the elevator.
“It’s not my fault every time you see me you fall into my arms—ouch!”
“That was only twice!” She held two fingers up for me to see.
“Twice in this lifetime,” I teased as we got into the elevator. “I have to say, you aren’t as light as I remember though.”
Her mouth dropped open and I could feel the oncoming firestorm. Yet I grinned happily as the silver doors closed, but not before I n
oticed the quick glance the security guard gave us before picking up the phone and dialing. I wasn’t sure why I’d noticed it, but my instincts told me…told me that something wasn’t right.
“And don’t even get me started on those damn corsets, they were invented by men just so they could feel us up once we fainted from the lack of oxygen—are you even listening to me? Malachi?”
“Huh?” I looked back at her. She stared directly back at me and eyed me carefully. “Sorry, you’re so beautiful everything goes in one ear and out the other.”
She tried to hold a straight face but snorted before she covered her mouth and laughed. “Oh, that was so cheesy!”
“That was a classic romantic line, thank you very much!” I smirked.
“Yeah from 1910,” she muttered, glancing up as we reached the floor of her apartment. But before she could walk out I stepped in front of her and came face to face with a woman who looked just like Esther, only twenty years older. She had short black hair and was dressed in a sleeveless, velvet jumpsuit. She flinched at the sight of me but stood straighter at the sight of Esther. Her jaw locked and her eyes hardened as she placed the straps of her red purse over her shoulder.