Masks Around Me

CHAPTER 2: WELCOME HOME

The next morning, the crisp London air still a distant memory, my new parents, Mr and Mrs Windsor, and I found ourselves amidst the bustling controlled chaos of the airport. The sheer scale of it was overwhelming, a symphony of hurried footsteps, loudspeaker announcements, and the distant roar of jet engines. After what felt like an eternity of procedures – tickets exchanged, bags weighed, and the unfamiliar sensation of a security scan – we finally boarded our plane.

Stepping into the cabin, I immediately noticed the difference. This wasn't the cramped, utilitarian space I'd glimpsed on the small orphanage television. Plush, wide seats, soft lighting, and an overall air of understated luxury enveloped us. "Mum?" I ventured, turning to Amelia, the word feeling both foreign and exhilarating on my tongue.

She turned, a flicker of surprise in her beautiful blue eyes quickly replaced by a radiant smile. "Yes, darling? Is there a problem?" Her voice was like warm honey.

"N-no, no problem at all," I stammered, a blush creeping up my neck. "I just... I wanted to ask why this cabin looks so much fancier than the ones I usually see on TV."

Both Henry and Amelia chuckled softly, a shared amusement dancing in their eyes. Henry, placing a comforting arm around my small shoulders, explained, "The cabins you've probably seen on television are most likely economy class, Edward. This, my boy, is first class. It's considerably more expensive, but it offers far greater comfort and space. Do you understand the difference?"

I nodded, absorbing the new information, and he smiled, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. A short while later, the pilot's calm voice crackled over the intercom, announcing our imminent departure and instructing us to fasten our seatbelts. Amelia, with a practiced grace, helped me secure my belt first, ensuring it was snug and safe, before securing her own.

As the plane began its lumbering journey down the runway, gathering speed, a primal fear seized me. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, and each breath felt shallow, snatched. Henry and Amelia, sensing my distress, immediately reached for my hands, their touch firm and reassuring. "It's alright, Edward," Henry murmured, his thumb gently stroking my knuckles. "You're safe with us. Just a little turbulence, nothing more." Amelia offered a soft, comforting squeeze. Their quiet presence, their unwavering calm, gradually soothed the frantic pounding in my chest, and as the plane lifted off, I felt a fragile sense of peace settle over me.

Throughout the flight, the initial anxiety lingered, a faint hum beneath the surface. But my new parents, seemingly intuiting my unease, embarked on a marathon of storytelling. They wove tales of their own childhood adventures, funny anecdotes, and fantastical made-up narratives, their voices a soothing balm against the roar of the engines. Their stories were so vivid, so engaging, that the hours seemed to melt away.

Two hours later, the jolt of landing brought me back to the present with a slight disorienting lurch. My legs felt like jelly, and I struggled to stand. Without a word, Henry scooped me up into his strong arms, carrying me effortlessly as we disembarked the plane, Amelia walking beside us, her hand resting gently on my back.

Stepping out of the airport, the vibrant chaos of London enveloped us. Amidst the throng of people, a tall, powerfully built man, impeccably dressed, held a sign aloft that read: "MR. HENRY WINDSOR AND MRS. AMELIA WINDSOR." It was then, in that small, almost insignificant moment, that a surprising realization hit me: I didn't even know my parents' first names. As we moved towards the waiting figure, a wave of affection, deep and unexpected, washed over me.

"Good day, sir, good day, ma'am," the man greeted us, his smile warm and genuine. "I trust you enjoyed your trip from Scotland?"

"Of course, Williams!" Henry replied, his voice brimming with joviality. "It was an absolutely amazing and truly memorable trip." He then turned, his gaze searching for me, finding me instinctively seeking refuge behind Amelia's slender form. She leaned down, her voice soft and reassuring. "Don't worry, Edward. Williams is our chauffeur, a very dear and kind man. Come on, say hello." Stepping out from behind her, I offered a tentative "Hello."

"Williams," Henry announced, his arm resting lightly on my shoulder, "we adopted Edward during our trip. He's the new young master of the family."

Williams' smile widened, radiating warmth. "Welcome, young sir. You are incredibly fortunate to have been adopted by such wonderful and loving people. I truly hope you settle into your new environment swiftly." His expression then shifted to one of mock chagrin. "Oh, where are my manners? You've all just had an exhausting journey, and here I am keeping you waiting. My sincerest apologies for my inconsiderate behavior."

"There's no problem at all, Williams," Amelia replied with a gracious smile, waving off his apology.

Williams then led us to a sleek, luxurious car, effortlessly loading our bags into the spacious trunk. Once he was behind the wheel, the engine purred to life, and we began to move. As we drove, I pressed my face to the window, utterly mesmerized by the sheer beauty of London. Grand, elegant buildings soared into the sky, lush green parks unfolded before us, and red double-decker buses trundled past, a vibrant tapestry of urban life.

After what felt like only a few minutes, we arrived.

Before us stood a magnificent, sprawling mansion, its architecture grand and imposing. This, I instinctively knew, was the Windsor mansion. The grounds were vast, immaculately manicured, with a shimmering fountain at its heart, its water dancing in the afternoon sun. Surrounding it were vibrant flowerbeds, a riot of colors and fragrances, meticulously arranged to decorate the imposing residence.

Williams brought the car to a smooth stop. "Sir, ma'am, we've arrived," he announced, his voice filled with quiet pride.

"Look, Edward," Henry said, his face alight with a wide, genuine smile. "From this moment on, this is your new home." I turned to Amelia, her beautiful eyes mirroring her husband's joy, and she nodded in silent affirmation.

Henry stepped out, extending a hand to me, and I grasped it, feeling the warmth of his palm. Amelia followed, and together, we approached the grand front doors. A small retinue of staff, all dressed in crisp, elegant uniforms, stood waiting, their expressions expectant.

An older woman, stout but with a kindly face, her brown hair neatly pulled into a bun, stepped forward. She seemed to be in charge. She offered a warm smile. "Welcome back, Mr. and Mrs. Windsor. I trust your trip was enjoyable?" The couple nodded, their smiles reflecting her own.

Her gaze then settled on me, her eyes softening. "This must be the little boy from Scotland. What's your name, little one?"

"E-E-Edward," I stammered, my voice barely a whisper, suddenly overwhelmed by the attention.

"Welcome, Edward," she said, her voice gentle and reassuring. "We've prepared your room; I hope it will be to your liking. Come, let's go inside." The other staff members opened the massive double doors, and we stepped into a world even more stunning than the exterior promised.

The entrance hall was breathtaking. The walls were painted a pristine white, creating an airy, luminous space. Above, a colossal silver chandelier cascaded light, sparkling like a thousand captured stars. Exquisite paintings adorned the walls, each one a masterpiece, and prominently displayed was a large, beautifully framed photograph of Henry and Amelia on their wedding day, radiating happiness. Two sweeping staircases curved gracefully upwards, meeting at a landing, lending an almost regal grandeur to the space. It felt utterly unreal, like walking into a dream.I stood there, lost in silent admiration, when Henry's voice cut through my reverie. "Please, lead Edward to his room and help him freshen up," he instructed the staff.

I was gently led upstairs, to a room so vast it dwarfed any space I had ever known in the orphanage. In one corner, a treasure trove of toys awaited, a colorful array of cars, building blocks, and stuffed animals. The bed was enormous, soft, and inviting. I was still gaping in wonder when two kind women led me to an en-suite bathroom, helping me undress and gently guiding me into a warm bath. They washed my hair, their movements tender and unhurried.

When they were finished, they helped me dry off, brushed my hair until it gleamed, and dressed me in new clothes – soft, comfortable fabric that felt luxurious against my skin. I gazed at my reflection in the large mirror, a stranger looking back at me, a child who looked well-cared for, cherished. It was a wonderful sensation, and a silent prayer formed in my heart: Please, don't let this be temporary.

Downstairs, the enticing aroma of food filled the air. The workers led me to a grand dining table laden with an array of delicacies, a feast fit for a king. "We weren't quite sure what you liked, Edward," Amelia said, gesturing to the spread, "so we asked the chef to prepare a little bit of everything for you."

"Thank you," I mumbled, my mouth already watering, and I eagerly began to eat, savoring each new flavor. After a few minutes of contented silence, Henry looked at me, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Edward," he began, "what do you think about starting school next week?"

I hesitated, the idea both daunting and exciting. Then, a surge of courage, fueled by the warmth of their presence, pushed me forward. "I... I would love to," I replied, a genuine smile finally gracing my lips.

Henry exchanged a pleased glance with Amelia, a silent communication passing between them, before he encouraged me to finish my dinner. After the meal, Amelia accompanied me back to my new room. She gently tucked me into the expansive bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.

Just as she was about to leave, I reached out, my small hand grasping her sleeve. "Please don't leave," I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "I want you to stay." She smiled, a soft, understanding smile, and then, to my immense relief, she lay down beside me, pulling me close. The gentle rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her embrace, was the most comforting lullaby imaginable, and soon, I drifted off to sleep, feeling truly, completely safe for the very first time.