by M. Dalto
There was nothing she could do.
Fear dug its claws deeper as her captor climbed on top of her.
The room was dark, all light blocked by those damn curtains, so much so she couldn't see anything.
Nothing but the bright red of his eyes.
Like Treyan's eyes, so similar in their shape and vibrancy, though she knew it wasn't him.
In her mind, she knew these were the eyes of those who betrayed the Empire.
He whispered into her ear.
"This will be my greatest triumph."
The scenario felt too close, too real.
Alex woke with a start as she bolted up in bed and let out a blood-curdling scream.
5
Her hand grasped at her breast as she tried to catch her breath. The material of her dress clung to her sweat-soaked body as she heaved for air. Wiping away tears from her cheeks, she realized it was a dream, and only a dream. Even as she could still feel the heat of his breath against her skin, and the weight of those restraints around her wrists…
It was only a dream.
But still, it felt too real, and that terrified her all the same.
Calming herself, she looked around to find herself in yet another strange room. This room was better furnished, at least from what she could tell. The mahogany bed was extremely comfortable and nearly a fortress with four posts rising to the ceiling and sheer curtains creating a canopy. The comforter was made of fine fur and filled with down and on either side of the bed were matching double-drawered bedside tables.
Finally, able to calm her heart after the jolt of waking, she flopped herself back down on the mound of pillows underneath her head and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.
She needed to think.
She tried to wrap her head around all that had transpired over these last few days—at least she thought it was days. Time was starting to waver, and she felt like a stranded sailor at sea. Of course, it was hard for her to discern the time when sleep kept falling upon her time and again, and now she felt robbed of both time and information. As to what exactly was happening, however, she was still in the dark—literally and figuratively.
According to what Treyan told her, she was a prophesized Empress for a world she didn’t know existed, being hunted by his estranged twin brother for who knows whatever reason.
She’d have thought him completely insane if not for the dreams she had the night before…
She shuddered at the memory.
Rolling to her side, Alex closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to collect her thoughts. She wondered if anyone in Boston was missing her yet—if Crystal had sounded an alarm after her phone call, or if she assumed Alex was merely overreacting after a night of excessive drinking. Knowing Crystal, she'd probably remain in bed all weekend nursing the hangover she liked to enjoy for days, regardless of the concern Alex’s call may have instilled.
Thinking about home made her groan and sink deeper into the blankets. She needed to get back. The comfort of the bed, and the care Treyan seemed to have for her well-being, they weren’t enough to keep her here. Whatever fantasy he may have had about who she was and what she was supposed to do was just that—nothing more than some delusion that there was an alternate world where she mattered. If she remained any longer, playing into this farce, she was bound to lose her mind, among everything else.
No, she needed to get home. She needed to get back to the world she actually knew, even if there wasn’t much waiting for her there. Even if it was a shitty job and a small apartment waiting for her, it was still her home.
She felt almost like a robot, saying it over and over again. Like she needed to convince not only herself, but those around her who doubted and challenged every life decision she ever made. Especially her parents, who already considered her a failure for not having what they determined to be a "real" job, and she could only imagine what they'd think if she couldn't maintain her position at Starbucks because of too many no call-no shows.
Her parents.
Sometimes she wondered if her father went out of his way to monitor her from afar because he was making up for not truly being her father. Her mother remarried when Alex was very young, so in all honestly, he was the only father she’d ever known. Nothing ever made her want to know more about her birth father either- he was simply her mother’s first husband who experienced an untimely death, and she was able to move on and find love again.
But Sergeant Ross of the Sudbury Police Department made sure Alex knew he had plenty of colleagues at the Boston P.D. that reported to him so if she ever thought she could get away with anything…
The idle threats went on and on until the day she moved away.
She shook her head and sighed. Rolling over, she sat herself on the edge of the bed and tried to assess her surroundings. Slivers of sunlight, escaping from curtained windows, laced the floor of the chambers. She glanced down at her feet, remembering the injury that kept her right foot in bandages. She tried to move her toes, and though the initial twinge of pain made her gasp, the available movement was surprising. She was relieved, but she couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been sleeping.
Carefully placing her feet down on the plush carpeted floor, she stood, and when she was certain her leg wasn't going to go out from underneath her, she slowly padded her way towards the windows. She worked to spread them apart and was blinded by the warm sunlight. Her eyes took a moment to adjust before she could see her room.
The room was more like a suite, with its own separate sitting area and private washroom. The main door was heavy, wooden, and foreboding, so she would need to deal with that later. The bed was as large as she suspected, with bedside tables on either side and a bronze candelabra on each, now supporting melted candles. Along the wall, across from the end of her bed, stood a beautiful antique dresser with a grand mirror, and beside was a large armoire that matched the dresser, and between both a cushioned bench.
With her eyes now better adjusted, she turned back the sunlight. What she thought were windows were actually doors, glass monstrosities that stretched from floor to ceiling, closed together with matching curling metal handles.
She recognized these doors. She had just dreamt of this balcony.
With curiosity and the lucid memories still swirling through her mind, she placed her hands on the door handles and pushed.
What lay before her, however, was nothing like what she saw in her dreams.
The lands just beyond the wall lined with lush rose gardens were ravaged, charred and desolate. It appeared to be the wreckage of a long-forgotten battle, juxtaposed by the new morning’s light shining down— morning light provided by a pair of brightly shining spheres floating within the sky above. Alex had to squint to make sure she was seeing it correctly, but no— two suns shared the Empire’s atmosphere.
The blood long-dried and the dead gone and buried, but the damage was done, and its mark was left behind. Phantom smoke seemed to rise from the desolate ruins, but she couldn't tell if it was the morning mist on the new plant life or ghosts of the long-burning embers.
Through the devastation, like a phoenix from the ashes, life found a way to thrive. On the outskirts of the wasteland, small villages and new civilization seemed to prosper despite the desolation— cottages with smoke rising from their chimneys and carts carrying goods to and fro along nearby roads told a story that families rebuilt, and commerce survived despite the silent battleground. She wondered what it would be like, waking up to a life like this, in a world like this, uncertain what each next day could bring, wondering if it could be your last. If the battleground had anything to lend towards it, whatever happened here was enough to make one cherish each and every one of those days.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Alex didn't hear Treyan approach and his voice made her jump. His unannounced presence had her on the defensive, and she straightened her spine and took a reflexive step away as he slowly walked up next to her, his
eyes surveying the scene before them. There was something in his eyes, however, as he looked out over the ruined landscape—something that finally dimmed the light within them.
She followed his gaze back out beyond the balcony. “What happened here?”
He shook his head as if trying to forget the memory. “Another battle from a different time. But like it or not, this is our Empire. All you need to know is this is your Empire, and you can help keep this from happening again.”
She glanced to him then returned her gaze to the land before her. She thought back to her dream and shivered in the warm sunlight as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Treyan, last night, I—”
“You dreamt. I know, I heard you scream.” He didn't look at her as he spoke.
“Dreams don't make me scream,” she reminded him. “At least not since I was little.”
“A nightmare then. Whatever it was, I don’t want you to tell me.” He turned to her then, leaning against the railing to face her. “Consider them warnings, if you must. Use them as you will, but once you tell someone your dreams, what occurred with them becomes something more. Something real.”
“And if I don’t want what happened in my dreams to happen?”
All she could see were those red eyes above her. She didn’t allow herself to think of the dream that occurred before it.
“That may be the point, Alex. Whatever you dreamed, use it to your advantage.”
“You're acting like I can predict the future or something.”
“Maybe you can,” he said with a smirk as he glances towards her. “We’ll just have to see what the future brings.” She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. She started to turn away, but his hand on her cheek brought her attention back to him.
“I mean it, Alex,” Treyan said softly, and she was forced to recall the day before, when they were in a similar position. Twice. “Your dreams are yours, just as my dreams are my own. Keep faith in them and yourself and retain your will. Never speak of them to anyone.” He dropped his hand from her cheek and returned his attention to the landscape, as if he was looked for something, or someone.
Maybe he had a similar dream once. Maybe there was more to this odd Prince than she considered beyond being from another world and needing her, of all people, to help him.
The scenery before her may have been suggestion enough that there could be truth in what he said. Even as the thought of her dreams becoming a reality made her stomach turn and the air was not helping. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. As she reopened them, he was still looking at her, the blue of his eyes brighter, even sparkling in the sunlight. His hand was warm and comforting on her cheek, maybe even a little too comfortable. She smiled slightly and turned away, returning her gaze to the scene before them. The mountainous lands in the distance jogged a memory, and remembering the armies from her nightmare, she pointed in the same general direction.
“What's over there, beyond those cliffs?”
Treyan followed the direction of her finger. He looked for a moment, only to return his gaze to the empty valley before them. “Those would be the Borderlands. Reylor's lands, and I would highly suggest not venturing there, Empress.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure, because I'm just going to wander all by myself—”
“You would be lying if you told me you didn't already think about it.” She saw him smirk out of the corner of her eye.
She tried her best to school her features. Letting him know she was more than ready to run for it on the off-chance she’d find her way home would have been less than ideal. She would lose herself in to the unknown before she stepped foot beyond those rose-covered walls, and if he thought the threat of Reylor and those Borderlands were enough for him to warn her, perhaps she needed to go about this a different way.
She needed to make him think she was okay with this.
A plan slowly began to form.
“Okay, but say I want to wander somewhere—I think that could be a freedom you’d allow. Especially since—” She stopped as she recalled something. “Wait a minute."
“Hmm?” Treyan hummed back lazily.
“You knocked me out,” she accused him, pushing on his shoulder. “Again! Why do you keep doing that?"”
A look of surprise came across Treyan's face.
“How did you do it?” Alex felt her pulse thrum a little faster.
Treyan swallowed as if he was actually uneasy about answering. “I had to calculate the damages and made the call.”
“That didn't answer my question!” She shoved him again.
“I only put you to sleep.” He tried to shrug it off.
“How?” she pressed, insistent on an answer.
Instead of an answer, he smiled at her, a shrug his only response.
Letting out a frustrated groan, she turned away from him. “Whatever it was, it was a cheap trick, and not appreciated.”
“Call it whatever you want, but it worked. It helped get you here safely and allowed you to sleep when you needed rest.” He glanced down. “How’s your foot?”
Alex followed his gaze down at her bandaged toes. “It feels much better, actually...”
“Good.” His confidence was obviously growing as the humor returned to his voice. “So long as you keep your tantrums at bay, and remain close, you will be safe. That is all that matters.”
“Does it now?” she hissed, feeling the blood rush through her veins as she felt her temper rise. “I’ll stay close so you can knock me out whenever you see fit, keep me at bay, and show me this as a way to convince me it matters?” She motioned to the desolate land before them. “This is the Empire you want me to embrace, and yet you still refuse to tell me anything that makes it worth my time. I want to go—I want to go home, and I want you to take me back. Now.”
His eyes on her suddenly turned sad at her words, and for a moment she regretted her outburst. But she had to remind herself that he was the one who took her from her home, he was the one who kept her here, and even though there were no chains, no restraints, she was still a prisoner. She needed to get away before she started considering any alternative. That this could truly be home. Where she really belonged…
She reminded herself that there was only one way she’d be able to begin to find her way back, and she wasn’t going to be able to do so with Treyan constantly by her side. She needed to distance herself from him, needed a few moments alone to begin to assess what she had, what she could bring with her, what she could utilize to her advantage. Those years as a Girl Scout growing up would come in handy, she mused to herself as her own gaze looked out of the landscape. There were wooded areas around them, they should be enough to give her cover until she could make way to one of those villages and ask for help.
“What are you thinking?” she heard him ask, and it took all restraint to not jump from her skin as his voice snapped her from her deliberations. So instead, she turned to him, and nodded towards the lands below.
“Why don't we go wander?”
He looked to her, skeptically arching a brow. “You want to go down there with your foot in its current state?”
Alex shrugged her slender shoulders. “You’re telling me this is where I belong- that everything I used to know was nothing more than a myth. I want to make that decision for myself. And I’m not going to wait for a little cut to heal to do so.”
She hoped he didn’t see through her—that he couldn’t tell how badly her palms began to sweat and how quickly her pulse surged through her veins. She just needed him to get her out of this building, and then she’d be able to make a run for it towards that nearby village she saw earlier. Or at least make an effort, depending on how sore her foot felt.
Still, his eyes looked her up and down, lingering a little longer than they should have. Before she could say anything, he looked back to her. “That dress is no longer going to do.”
She looked down at her garb, remembering she still wore the same dress as she did when she
was in Boston. “No, I suppose it won't.”
Treyan chuckled. “Such a shame. I was beginning to like that look, but also impractical.”
She scoffed and walked back through the terrace doors, busying herself with the curtains over the windows. She decided they needed to be opened much wider than they already were as there was too much sunlight to not take advantage of it. Treyan sauntered over to the dresser against the far wall of the room. Sitting down before it as though he was going to fix his hair in the mirror, he motioned to the armoire in the nearby corner. “You should be able to find something you like in there.”
Alex looked to where he was pointing, and after fastening the final curtain in place, she walked to the armoire and flung its doors open.
Within hung dresses and garments in every color imaginable—lighter materials for the warmer weather, richer wears for the colder months. She ran her hands along each and every one of them. and stopped upon a fine white one at the end. The material was embroidered with silver threads, and the bodice was encrusted with gemstones of all colors of the rainbow. She knew this dress.
“Treyan, where did these come from?”
He was fidgeting with something in a bowl on the dresser when he looked up as she called him. Smirking he stood and walked over to her. “What, that old thing?”
“Yes, this 'old thing.' It's beautiful. Where did it come from?”
“It was a wedding dress.”
She looked it over again. That didn't surprise her, but then she remembered where she had seen this dress before. “Was a wedding dress?” she parroted. Alex removed the dress from the armoire to have a better look, but once she pulled it out and held it up into the light, her suspicions were confirmed.
“Whose dress was this?”
Treyan didn't waver as amusement gleamed in his eyes. “My mother's.”
Alex pulled the dress out of the armoire and held it before the day’s light now flooding the room. She felt lightheaded as recognition set in.
It was the exact same dress she saw herself wearing in her dream.