The Nysian Prophecy

by M. K. Dawn

  “That’s it?” He looks unconvinced.

  “Yep, I swear.” I cross my fingers under the sheets. Can't be too careful.

  “And the nightmare. Don't suppose you want to tell me about that?”

  I go over the explanation in my head. You took me on a romantic date to the waterfalls, where you got naked and went skinny dipping. I was about to join you when a music-playing white light put me in a trance and dragged me away, causing the worst pain imaginable. The only way the pain would stop was if I touched the light which I was just about to do when you grabbed my hand instead, making everything better. Yeah, that would get me the ‘let's be friends’ speech for sure. Instead, I do what any sound minded girl would do when she is caught having a not-so-innocent dream about a boy; I lie. “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “Because you don't want to tell me or because you can't remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “To which one?”

  “The second one, I think. The one about the memory.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?”

  “Ugh!” I climb off the bed. “Why can't you just drop it? I’m fine! I have been dealing with nightmares for as long as I can remember. I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Siple. It’s pretty simple, though he never seemed to catch on. What’s in my head is none of your damn business!” As soon as the words leave my lips I regret it.

  He doesn't try to hide the hurt on his face. “As you wish, Your Highness.” He bows and storms out the door.

  “What the hell?”

  Nick pops his head into my tent. “Everything okay? Lovers’ quarrel?”

  “What’s the deal with everyone trying to be funny today?”

  “I can't speak for everyone, but I'm normally this damn funny.”

  I ignore him, not finding him amusing in the least. “How long do I have until the feast? And where can I get a clock around here?”

  “Um. No clocks. We tell time using the sun.”

  Gods help me. “And when it's cloudy?”

  He shrugs. “We wing it.”

  Awesome. “The feast?”

  “Right.” His head disappears, then reappears. “The feast starts at dusk, so by the look of things, you have a few hours.”

  “Okay.” That gives me some time to calm down. “I have no idea what to wear tonight.”

  “Say no more. I will have Shae stop by in just a bit.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem. I also left you a little gift on the nightstand. Something to help pass the time.”

  He left me a book. I read the blurb and laugh. A smutty romance - my favorite.

  “Thanks!”

  He responds with a thumbs-up through the door. With a few hours to kill, I sit in the chair next to the bed, tuck my feet under and let my mind be immersed in someone else's drama.

  ***

  Shae walks into my tent just as I’m about to start chapter eight. “OOO, that's one of my favorites.”

  “Thanks for letting me borrow it.” There’s no way this book belongs to Nick.

  “Sure. I have a stack of them in our tent. It can get kind of boring on the road. You’re welcome to borrow any of them.” Shae opens my wardrobe and thumbs through the newly vamped dresses.

  “I may take you up on that depending on how busy they keep me. I start weapons training tomorrow.” Which I’m so not looking forward to. I’m the least coordinated person in the world and I have no desire to get my ass kicked in front of all these highly-trained soldiers.

  “Well, you’re in good hands. The warriors are the best of the best.”

  “They aren't the ones training me. Henry’s guards are.”

  “Really? That's... interesting.” Shae faces me.

  “Yeah, well, I guess it's for the best. Eric said Henry insisted it be his guards. Something about thinking there may be a traitor among us. At least Nick will be there. Brady wanted to be, but Eric shot that down. Said he needed to do recon.”

  Shae snorts. “A traitor among the warriors? Not a chance in hell. Those guys grew up together, they’re like brothers. Henry’s guards, on the other hand... I don't know what it is, there’s just something off about them.”

  “I know what you mean, they make me nervous.”

  “Just remember, you’re the princess. And if Nick is going to be there, you have nothing to worry about.”

  “Thanks. I'm surprised he didn't tell you. You two seem to tell each other everything.”

  “He mentioned something about your training, I just assumed he was doing it. We haven’t really had much time to talk in the past few days. He has been a little busy.” She smiles but guilt washes over me. I’ve been so concerned with myself these past few days, I haven't even thought about anyone else.

  “Oh Gods, Shae, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I’ll get one of the other warriors to guard me from now on. He needs to be with you.”

  “Don't you dare!” The ferocity in her voice catches me off guard. “His whole life has been dedicated to protecting you and the royal family. All of which I knew before I bonded with him. His loyalty is one of the things I love most about him.”

  “But…”

  “No. I know in the human realm royalty is somewhat of a novelty. They’re more like a celebrity than anything. That’s not the case here. Your family means everything to us. There is not one person here who would not lay down their life for you.” I open my mouth to tell her I don't want that, but she stops me. “And before you say anything, that is just the way it is. It’s the way it has always been. Once you get your memories back, all of this will be second nature to you. But for now, you are just going to have to trust us. Can you do that?” I nod. “Good. Now let's find you something to wear that won't embarrass you. Lucky for you, Charlotte does amazing work.” Shae holds up what seems to be the same lilac dress we had gawked at this morning. I don't know what Charlotte did to it, but it’s now gorgeous.

  “I barely recognize it. Do you think Henry will notice? He did say he picked out the clothes for me.” Last thing I needed was him to be pissed that someone altered the dresses he brought without permission.

  “Nah, I doubt he even knows what was packed. I’m sure a few of the handmaids picked them out. Though, if that's the case, I would fire them immediately upon your return because their taste is awful.”

  I laugh; isn't that the truth.

  ***

  An hour later, after Shae has helped me dress, redo my makeup, and pull my hair up into a loose bun, I’m ready for the feast. Nick is to escort me to Henry’s tent, and then he and his guards will be in charge of me for the remainder of the night.

  “Just so you know, Brady only agreed to Henry’s guards being in charge because we will all be at the feast,” Nick explains, as we stroll towards Henry’s tent. “If at any time, you feel like things are too much and you need to leave, just tell one of us.”

  “Okay.” I frown, biting my lower lip.

  “What is it?”

  “I don't know. Just nervous, I guess. I really don't know what to expect tonight.”

  “It's very casual. Think backyard barbecue.”

  “Why do I find that hard to believe?” I mumble.

  Nick grins. “You will go. Sit down. Eat. Smile pretty at all the little people and be on your way.”

  “And that's it?” I still don't believe him, but it's nice of him to try and make me feel better about the whole thing.

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” We stop in front of Henry’s tent. “Ready? You're not going to throw up again, are you?”

  “Oh, good Gods!” I shout. “Why would you even bring that up?”

  Nick shrugs, but before he can answer, Henry steps outside. “I heard yelling. Is everything okay, my love?”

  I do my best to smile but it doesn't reach my eyes. “Yes, of course.”

  He turns his attention to Nick. “Thank you, Warrior, that will be all.”

  Nick’s eyes catch
mine, as if asking for permission. I smile wearily and nod. He bows, then struts away, leaving me alone with Henry.

  “Come in, please.” Henry opens the door. I step in to see four colossal men sitting at the table whose mere presence halts me in my tracks. Henry stops behind me, places a hand on each hip and leans into my ear. “Impressive, aren't they?”

  I would say scary beyond belief, but whatever. Placing a hand on my lower back he leads me further into the tent. “My love, I don't believe you have met my guards; Calhoun, Lonzo, Rinc, and Marco.” I’m thinking barbarian one, two, three, and four would work just as well. “Brothers, bred to be guardians of the Aletheia’s royal family. Gentlemen, the fair Princess Alaina.” They all stand and bow in unison, making me jump back a little. “Lonzo and Marco,” aka barbarian two and barbarian four, “will be handling your training tomorrow. They are highly skilled, so much so that I bet they could take on one of your warriors with ease.” That, I didn’t know, but by the looks of them, it would be one hell of a fight.

  Until now, I had only seen Henry's guards lurking in the shadows. From afar, they were intimidating. Now, five feet in front of me, they’re downright scary. Their uniforms, a silvery gray color, are similar to ours in style, but in place of the heart, is a torch. All four men stand close to seven feet tall and from the look of it, their muscles have muscles of their own. Each has sandy blond hair, olive skin, a pointed nose, and deep brown eyes. Not only is it obvious they are brothers, but they could very well be quadruplets. No way was I going to be able to tell who was who.

  We stand like that for several seconds - them examining me like a play toy, me trying not to pee my pants. I don't know what it is about them that has me so freaked out. They are no bigger than the warriors. But there's something about their presence that almost feels sinister. My eyes connect with barbarian one and I fight the overwhelming terror that spreads through me. I need to get a grip. Pushing the fear deep inside of me, I muster a quiet “Hello,” grateful my voice doesn't crack.

  When they don't respond, Henry chimes in. “Do not expect them to speak unless absolutely necessary. Unlike your warriors, my guards know how to hold their tongues among royals.” Another dig at my warriors. Guess it's not just Brady he has a problem with.

  “Shall we go? I'm sure our people are anxiously awaiting our arrival.” I doubt it. After what I saw in the dining room this morning, I have a feeling the people would be happier if Henry was nowhere around. But I hold my tongue, deciding that this night will be a lot easier if I play nice.

  I smile and loop my arm in his, fighting the impulse to run the other direction. Something about being this close to him makes my stomach queasy. Nick’s question about me throwing up again doesn't seem so funny now.

  We step out the door and I pray that the night’s fresh air will help calm my stomach. It doesn’t. As we continue towards the feast, Henry makes small talk, but all I can manage to do is nod in response, not trusting to open my mouth. He doesn't seem to notice, nor does he seem to care, that I haven't said a word. I guess he doesn't like his women chatty or opinionated, which is great right now but will be a problem in the future. I’m full of opinions and don't know when to shut up.

  The walk is excruciatingly long. Just as I’m about to excuse myself to go pray to the porcelain gods, we arrive. I stop mid-step, drop my arm from Henry and stare in awe. It’s like something out of a fairytale. Damn it, Nick. Backyard barbecue, my ass. This is more like a backyard ball.

  Round tables covered in iridescent tablecloths are spread out to form a half circle around a massively wide fire pit, which is surrounded by logs that have been carved out to make seats. Each table is decorated with several different colored glass candle holders. The light from the candles along with the light from the fire pit bounces off the tablecloths, creating a stunning light show. Behind the round tables is an exceedingly long rectangle table covered in a wide variety of scrumptious looking food. At the end is another smaller fire pit, complete with two whole roasting boars on a spinning spit.

  “Well done!” Henry’s voice booms, silencing everyone and scaring the crap out of me. “Let this be a casual night of food, fun, and laughter, thanking the Gods for the safe return of our Savior, Princess Alaina.” The crowd erupts in applause, causing me to freeze like a deer in headlights, my face turning all shades of red.

  Silently I plead, ‘Please don't ask me to say something, please don't ask me to say something.’

  As though answering my prayer, Henry declares, “Let the feast begin!”

  The conversation picks back up as people head to the food line. I start to follow, but Henry leads us in the opposite direction, towards the fire pit where a raised platform holding a large rectangular table with two large red plush throne-like chairs sits. The tablecloth, also iridescent, has a torch and doubled circled heart stitched on the front of it, symbols from both our kingdoms. The reflection of the fire makes the torch look like it’s burning. Funny thing is, it makes the heart look like it's burning too, which kind of symbolizes how I feel right about now. Go figure.

  As we sit, a plate of delicious looking cheeses, crackers, and fruit are placed in front of each of us. My mouth waters and I realize in that moment I’m no longer nauseated, though I'm not sure when it went away. I dig into my plate, biting into a strawberry, moaning as the sweet nectar hits my lips. Someone else comes up after the food server and pours us wine.

  “Drink, it’s exquisite, but be careful,” Henry warns, “it’s much stronger than wine from the human realm. We metabolize alcohol faster, so we can tolerate it in higher doses. But you are not used to it, so take it slow.”

  Not being much of a wine person, or a drinking person in general since I’m only eighteen and not of legal age in the human realm, I heed Henry’s warning, taking only a small sip to be polite, expecting it to be bitter and dry like most reds I have tasted. To my surprise, it’s sweet, not sugary sweet but more like the strawberry I just ate. I go for another drink, but stop myself, opting for water instead, having no desire to get drunk and make an ass out of myself in front of all these people.

  The night continues in a blur of food, conversation, and wine. Each time my plate comes close to being empty, another is brought to replace it with food more amazing than its predecessor. The same thing goes with the wine. For every few sips I drink, the wine guy fills it back up again. At first, I try to take it slow, alternating water and wine, but the sips turn into full-size swallows as my inhibitions disappear. After drinking what must have been a full glass, maybe two - I lose count of how many times Jeeves filled me up - my head starts to feel light and all those warm fuzzy feelings that come with being on the verge of being drunk emerge.

  When dessert is over, people start making their way up to our table. Normally this would be a cause of major anxiety for me, but the wine does its job well. Most come to pay their respects and tell me how happy they are that I’m back. Some tell stories about my father and how wonderful a king he was. Soldiers pledge their allegiance. Several older women and men cup my face, kissing my head in the same fashion Dean Meel and Dr. Siple did the last time I saw them at New Ridge. The first time it happened, I pulled back a little, but Henry leaned in, explaining that it was the traditional sign of love amongst an elder towards a child. Not wanting them to see me that way, I resisted it, but soon come to realize that it’s more out of love for my family than my age that they do this.

  After the meet and greet, people make their way to sit around the fire pit, bottles of wine and pitchers of beer in hand. Guitars are brought out. Looks like the entertainment portion of the evening is about to start up.

  Henry stands, holding out a hand for me. “Shall we retire, my love?”

  Does he mean ‘leave’? When the party looks like it's just about to get started? “I think I’m going to stay.”

  A look of utter disgust splashes across his face. “That is highly inappropriate. This portion of the evening is designed by the common people, for the co
mmon people. As royals, it makes them uncomfortable for us to be here.”

  There’s those words again, ‘common people’. Luckily for him, the wine’s effect has worn off some or I would give him a butt chewing for saying that. But instead, I bite my tongue, opting for a more logical approach. “I think I will chance it. Everyone seems pretty comfortable right now. They probably won't even notice. Anyway, if Prince Harry can marry a commoner and make pretty babies with her, then I can sit and listen to music with commoners.”

  “Who’s this Prince Harry you speak of?” Henry asks.

  I’m about to give him a lesson on the human realm’s most famous royal family when Anastasia walks up. Bowing, she speaks. “Sorry to interrupt, Your Highnesses, would you like to honor us with your presence?” My Gods, she is a life safer.

  “N-” Henry starts to decline but I interrupt.

  “Thank you, Anastasia. Prince Henry was just about to retire to his tent for the evening. I, on the other hand, would love to. After all, this feast is in my honor. If the people are requesting my presence, who am I to deny them that?”

  “As you wish,” Henry says through his teeth. “I will leave two of my guards…”

  I cut him off again. “No need. All of my warriors are present.”

  He looks towards Ana, then back to me. I guess he doesn't like to argue in front of people. Good to know. “Well, if you need anything.”

  Gods, I wish he would just leave. “Yes, thank you. Have a good night, Henry.”

  He stands there for a few more seconds, then stalks off, the barbarians following not far behind. Once out of earshot, Ana and I burst out laughing. “When did you go all royal?” she asks, amused by my little display.