Two Thousand Years

by M. Dalto

  “Chose what?” Alex pressed.

  Treyan walked back towards the table. He didn't sit this time, but instead rested his hands on the back of his chair as he stood. “He weighed the options before him—to remain on the path that was his by fate, or to take the very Prophecy we live by and turn it on its head, and even despite his teachings, he decided on the latter and he chose you.”

  Alex’s eyes widened as she watched him. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he dreamed of you, and instead of letting it go or keeping it to himself, he decided to follow his dream and try to find you. Himself. Unfortunately for him, you were not his to have...”

  “I'm no one's to have,” she reminded him curtly.

  “Of course you aren’t,” he agreed with a sigh. “Reylor knew this, too, but still wouldn’t accept it. He became obsessed with you. His research turned dark, and instead of focusing on what was to be expected of him as the future Lord Steward, his attention split, distracting him from what was supposed to be his main purpose. There were even speculations he went so far as to venturing to the Borderlands prior to his banishment to seek the assistance of the mages, which is strictly forbidden. Whatever his teachings showed him, he had it in his mind that the only way he’d be able to get what he truly wanted was to rewrite the Prophecy himself, and when he realized that wasn’t an option, he attempted to destroy the Annals altogether, and the Prophecy with it.”

  “Did he succeed?” Alex asked carefully.

  “Well, the Annals remain safe within the library, and you’re here, aren’t you?” he reminded her, and when she glared at him, he shook his head. “No, he didn’t succeed. But his attempt was enough that the Council of Lords deemed him the Betrayer to both the Empire and the Prophecy, and they banished him to the Borderlands for the remainder of his days.”

  “Why?”

  Treyan held her gaze. “Because the Prophecy is never to be challenged, the Annals never to desecrated. To do so would bring about another war that would all but destroy our world.”

  “Like the war that ruined the land outside my window?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “So, now that I'm here…is that why he's invading my dreams?”

  Treyan nodded. “I suppose he figured if he couldn’t have you while awake, he’d do what he could with you while asleep.”

  “But what does that have to do with the Prophecy?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Maybe he just wants you because he knows he can’t have you.”

  “That's disturbing.”

  “He’s a disturbed individual.”

  Alex gave herself a moment to ponder what Treyan had told her. She considered the two dreams she had and compared them to what Treyan labeled as prophetic dreams versus planted nightmares. She decided to keep the positive to herself.

  With a sigh, she stood up for the first time since their meal started. The movement was enough for the wine to go straight to her head, and she braced herself on her chair before any real damage was done. She heard Treyan snort in amusement, breaking the tension that had arisen from their recent topic of conversation, and she couldn’t help but cast a playful glare over her shoulder at him for it. Finally, able to stand without assistance, she gathered her thoughts and the little sobriety that still remained and began to slowly pace around the room.

  “So, let me make sure I completely understand.”

  “By all means.” He motioned for her to go on.

  She ran her hands over the various items within the room as she walked, trying to place her thoughts as she went on, knowing his eyes never left her as she did so.

  “So, you and your brother...Reylor...grew up together in this palace. You were Mr. Swordsman and he was nose-deep in his books.”

  “Something like that,” he mused.

  “And then one day Reylor has this crazy dream about me, and suddenly he thinks that everything that is yours should be his, and he turns everything you know to hell.”

  Treyan remained silent.

  Alex turned to him. “So, if he hadn't tried to ruin everything, what was predestined for him?”

  “He was supposed to remain as the Lord Steward to the Empire,” he responded. All humor had left his face.

  “I know that, but what does that mean?”

  Treyan shrugged. “I don’t know. Growing up, he never suggested he wanted anything more than that. There was never jealousy or resentment that I was to be the Crown Prince, or that he was to remain as my main source for counsel and support.”

  “But a dream about me ruined all of that?” She watched him carefully. “What makes me so important enough that it can make someone want to throw away everything he ever wanted?”

  “Once he had already dreamed of you, I suppose it wasn’t good enough for him any longer.”

  “But why me?” she pressed. For some reason, she could accept the rest of the tale Treyan wove, but the significance of her being such a major player in this was the hardest fact to swallow.

  Treyan stood up and walked over to her. Alex ceased her pacing once he began to move, ending up next to the four-post bed as he stopped to stand in front of her. Gently, he brushed her still-damp hair over her shoulder and placed a hand to her cheek, bringing her gaze up to his.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Lord Stewards of the past have tried to decipher the Prophecy, have gone so far as to the mages in the North Mountains to attempt to discover what magic possesses the Annals and decides the line of the future Queen Empress. So far, no one has determined any pattern or connection, other than the susceptibility of the Annals acceptance.”

  “So, when I touched it in the library…”

  “If you were anyone but who I believed you to be, you would have been blasted out of those beautiful windows into the rose gardens below.”

  With wide eyes, she swallowed, color draining from her face as she considered the thought.

  “None of this matters now,” he reassured her as his blue eyes burned into hers. “All that matters is that you are here, and I will keep you safe.”

  “How?” she challenged. “What makes you so certain Reylor won’t attempt to infiltrate my dream again?”

  “I won’t let him,” he responded with assertiveness stronger than Alex has heard from him yet. “Even if I have to rest by your bedside to ensure it until you’re properly trained to keep him out on your own, I’ll do so. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  As if to solidify that promise, he leaned down and placed a gently kiss on her cheek. As he pulled away, their eyes met again, but only for a moment before Alex considered what it would be like to allow Treyan this small victory. To let him play out this destiny of his and take on the part he believed she was born to partake. Whether it was the desire of the Prophecy or the intoxication from the wine, she imagined throwing her arms around his neck, wondering if he would still taste like cloves should she bring her lips to his and kiss him deeply. Would he resist? Or return the kiss with an equal amount of passion? Would his touch be warm as he wrapped his arms around her waist, and how long would it be before he was lying her down on the bed?

  In her twenty-two years, Alex had never felt a connection like this with anyone else before, and even before given the chance for their intimacy to grow, she discovered she didn't want it to end.

  As he watched her with the same intensity in his gaze as she knew was in hers, neither did Treyan, it seemed. She even went to far as to take a step closer to him, longing for just the comfort and warmth of those arms, wanting once again to inhale that clove and spice scent—

  But Treyan stopped before she could move any closer.

  “You need to sleep,” he breathed as he placed firm hands on her shoulders.

  Alex blinked as if coming out of a mental haze. A look of shock, and maybe unprecedented disappointment, must have been evident upon her face, for he leaned down to meet her eyes to give her a reassuring smile. “Our time will
come, and we will have plenty of it.”

  She blinked again, shaking her head as if trying to clear cobwebs—or wine. “Wait, what? I wasn’t—” But she felt her cheeks flush all the same.

  With a soft chuckle he walked to the door of his room and slowly opened it to the darkened hallway beyond. “Come, I’ll walk you back to your room.”

  “And rest by my bedside?” she reminded him as she padded her way over the plush cream-colored carpet to where he stood.

  “Until you are properly trained,” he agreed with a wink.

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “I know, but I assure you, it will be anything but an inconvenience.” He flashed a playful grin. “Now pull yourself together. We don’t want any of the guards seeing you so indecent.”

  Looking down, Alex completely forgot she was in nothing but a robe, which had rendered itself off-kilter since she first tied it on. Suddenly embarrassed, she tried to adjust herself in an attempt to cover herself, wrapping her arms around herself to keep the robe closed tight.

  Treyan chuckled. “You look fine.”

  Reluctantly, she walked next to him as he watched her with a soft, caring gaze.

  “You’re really going to sit by my bed all night?”

  “As my honor and duty.”

  She felt her cheeks flush but motioned to the hallway all the same. “Lead the way.”

  They returned to her room in silence, indeed passing stationed guards who averted their eyes from the Crown Prince and the robe-clad Queen Empress. The candles were lit, the bed turned down, and there were comfortable, yet conservative-looking night clothes laid upon the bed.

  “I have servants?” Alex asked as she observed the state of the room before her.

  “No, I have servants. A whole palace of them,” he reminded her with humor in his voice. “But I need someone to take care of you while we wait for your Mistresses to arrive for your coronation day.”

  She changed in the washing room. Regardless of what Treyan may have seen while she was in her earlier bath, she wasn’t ready or willing to put herself on display now, and when she returned to the bedroom he was already sprawled in a chair next to the bed, boots off and long legs stretched out before him.

  “And you’ll be here all night?” she asked again as she climbed into the large four-post bed. She tried her best to not allow her panic to seep through to her words. To not let him see the fear within her of falling asleep, of having to dream again.

  “As promised.”

  Alex nodded as she settled under the blankets and let Treyan blow out the few candles that remained lit on her bedside table. She turned away from him so that he couldn’t see how long it took her to fall asleep. Instead, she stared into the darkness, waiting…

  When she found herself drifting off to sleep, gratefully of her own accord, and she didn't dream that night.

  She didn't have to.

  11

  Despite his promise, Treyan wasn't in the chair when Alex woke the next morning. Listening to the sounds of the early morning, it didn’t seem as though he was in the washroom either.

  So much for keeping promises, Alex thought to herself.

  Only a small part of her felt slightly guilty for expecting him to remain at her side all night anyway. He had offered, after all.

  Stretching, she sat up, but then slowly settled herself back down as the remnants from the previous night's drinking endeavors immediately rushed to her head. So, too, did the memory of what she wanted to do with the Crown Prince of the Empire until he abruptly stopped her. For better or for worse, she remained uncertain.

  Treyan...

  Groaning in frustration, she stared at the vaulted ceiling while she considered her new prospect. Her past relationships hadn’t exactly been healthy in that they were borderline on barely romantic relationships at all. But for some reason, with Treyan, she actually wanted to talk to him, to get to know him, to ask questions and listen to his answers. Clearly, the physical attraction was there, but even so. Regardless, not exactly the ideal way one starts a potential relationship, she thought to herself, throwing herself at a Prince she barely knew.

  She attempted to get herself out of bed again and found that her robe had ended up on the floor over the course of the night; the crisp morning air prickled her naked skin so unexpectedly that she quickly gathered a quilt around her shoulders. It was this draft that caught her attention, and soon the source of the morning light brought her to her feet.

  Someone must have been here early that morning for the heavy draperies that covered the windows spanning along the wall were already tied back, allowing the bright morning light to shine. Picking up her discarded robe, she draped it around her shoulders in place of the quilt and held it closed at her bosom as she walked towards the windows, allowing herself another moment to admire this strange land that would one day soon be hers.

  The sun—no, two suns—shone like luminescent orbs in the blue sky above. There were no clouds to be seen, but in the distance, she saw a pair of bird-like creatures flying through the air. Surrounding the palace and desolate battlefield beyond were dense wooded thickets, and from within she could hear the chirps and caws of the local fauna. Despite the remnants of the Empire’s war-torn past, if she didn't know any better, she'd have thought she was still home in Boston, walking through the Public Garden on a spring morning.

  She still wasn't at ground level but noticed that this balcony led out to a terrace that ran along the outside of the palace, with what looked like an elaborate staircase leading down to the lower gardens that homed various plants and flowers that ran along to the palace walls. These must have been the gardens Treyan mentioned before. She made the mental note that they would be the next on her list to explore, but first she wanted to find Treyan.

  Bringing herself away from the windows, Alex began to rummage through the nearby armoire to see if she could find something decent to wear before she set off to search through the palace. Luckily, she found a spare shirt made of soft cotton and cloth pants close enough to leggings. The shirt was loose, so she was able to wrap a belt around her waist to solve the stylish faux paus. She didn't have any undergarments, but since the top was black and belted appropriately enough she didn't give it any additional attention. She couldn't find the boots she was wearing either, but the smooth stone floor felt delightfully warm on the soles of her bare feet, so she paid neither any mind.

  When she was finally done dressing herself, Alex took that moment to look at herself in the mirror above the nearby dresser for the first time in what felt like forever. Her dark eyes looked back at her, encircled by lush lashes. Her nose was small, her cheekbones high, her lips average. Her bosom filled out the shirt nicely and flowed to her hips and her long legs ended in perfect little feet. She had tied her auburn hair up into a ponytail, allowing the ends to curl, tucking the few loose strands behind her ear to keep them out of her face.

  What struck her the most was her skin. Lifting a hand to her cheek to confirm it was real, she couldn't believe what she saw. It looked flawless. She couldn't tell if it was the lighting, or the mirror, or the water she took her bath in the day before, but whatever it was washed away any imperfection she may have had and gave her complexion the glow of, well, an Empress.

  Was this what happens when someone sells their soul to the Empire?

  Letting that contemplation go for the moment, she allowed herself one final look, brushing her shirt smooth one last time, and ventured out the door.

  Though a labyrinth of hallways and rooms, complete with guards, servants and stewards bidding her good morning as she passed, Alex was slowly able to make her way through the maze from one end of the palace to the other. But she had no idea where the hell Treyan could have been.

  In the end, she decided her ultimate destination would be the Councillor's chambers—it was logically the best place to start, especially since they had promised the Councillor they would meet again at some point that day. In her wanderi
ngs, she vaguely remembered it being on a lower level of the palace, so she searched through the many hallways until she found one that led her down into the palace's main foyer. She slowly descended the steps, but her gaze remained towards the ceiling, where the vaulted glass ceiling shone the suns’ light upon a crystal chandelier. The refraction of the sunlight sent rainbows on the pearlescent walls separated by stone columns embossed with golden molding. It was an elaborate area whose architecture made her want to remain and appreciate it further, but she was fully focused on reaching her intended destination and made a mental note to come back another time.

  If she did decide to stay.

  But it was the Councillor who found her first.

  As she was turning the corner she believed to be the closest to the Councillor’s chambers, he was already standing in the hallway outside the door, as though he was awaiting her approach. His presence startled her, yet he remained unfazed upon her arrival.

  “Good morning, Empress.”

  She tried to compose herself upon greeting him. “Good morning Councillor. I was just on my way—”

  “Looking for the Prince, perhaps?” He gave her a knowing look with a slight tilt of his lips.

  Alex blushed, and wondered how much of the palace knew what she almost wanted to do the night before. “Yes, actually. Have you seen him this morning?”

  “Indeed, I have. He set out on a ranging expedition. Minions of Reylor were sighted along the Empire's side of the Borderlands, so he took it upon himself to find out for sure.”

  She hesitated, and her brows furrowed at the thought of Treyan being anywhere close to someone like the one that had broken into her apartment in Boston.

  The concern must have shown on her face, for the Councillor’s tone was gentle as he reassured her. “Have no fear, Empress. This isn’t the first time Prince Treyan has needed to go out on his own, and as far as ranging purposes are concerned, I doubt it will be his last. He’ll be back before the suns set, I assure you.” He stepped aside and motioned back down the hallway from whence he came. “Shall we walk?”