Fragments of Light

by Beth Hodgson

  Emerald appeared next to him, kissing his neck with a feral force. Confused but obedient, he let Emerald continue her motions as flowing waves of her emerald-green hair fell lightly on his chest, the tickling sensation arousing him. Her soft kisses upon his neck continued to climb up his body until her lips met his ears, nibbling them playfully. Desperation burned inside, seeping deep down into his lowers.

  Responding to her desire, Derek ran his hands down Emerald’s body, brushing the tips of his fingers across her sheer clothes, then made his way down to the lower portion of her body. He stopped, hesitating. Was this truly happening?

  Emerald smiled at him deviously as her eyes went bright. She returned to kissing his neck, guiding his hand down to her lowers, letting out a small moan. Derek paused, unsure of what to do. Emerald continued to kiss his ear, brushing her lips toward his while grabbing his free hand, guiding it toward her thigh.

  “Don’t you want me?” she whispered with fierce desire.

  “More than anything,” Derek said, his voice faltering.

  Her lower body began to rub against his, and all at once, his mind exploded in pleasure. His member throbbed; he wanted nothing more than to ravish her at that moment. But something made him waver.

  Emerald closed her eyes, entering a state of bliss. The ecstasy of her eroticism made him harder, and he closed his eyes to join her motions. Pulling her into position as she hovered above him, the feeling came back.

  Shaking his head, Derek slowly slid his body away from Emerald. A sharp tug clawed at his soul as he did so, and the more he withdrew and edged away, the more painful the tug became. His body was nothing without her. He needed her. She was like an everlasting force that he needed to survive.

  Emerald opened her eyes once again, taken back. “What is it?” she breathed.

  Those eyes. There was something about her eyes. They were violet, not green.

  It was not Emerald.

  Shooting up from his bed, Derek saw the pale dawn’s rays kissing the walls of his bedchamber. Breathing heavily from the dream—or should he say, nightmare—he tried to calm himself, rubbing his temples with his fingertips. His body was drenched in sweat, and his sleeping pants and sheets were soaked through. His throat felt dry and cracked, and he needed some sort of liquid to replenish it.

  “Silas,” he called out hoarsely, hoping that his servant heard him.

  The door cracked, and Silas’s face appeared. “Yes, Your Highness?” The pale manservant bowed and entered the room.

  Derek withdrew from his drenched bed, his feet pressed against the cold floor. “Help me get ready for breakfast,” Derek said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Please pick my best morning garments.”

  The servant bowed and left his bedchambers.

  He sat down on his private balcony, waving his hand for another servant to get him some water. His body burned from the inside as he continued to sweat profusely. The morning sun, however cool it was in the morning, was making him feel worse outside on the patio. His servant returned with his water, and Derek drank the whole glass immediately, resting the empty, icy glass against his forehead.

  Why was he feeling so terrible? Did he have that dream because he was worried about Emerald? He hadn’t seen her the night before. She’d never sent word. Nor had she shown up to dinner. Not a single person had mentioned the princess last night. He had a hunch that Damaris had barred her from attending. Why else wouldn’t she have come?

  A sudden, stabbing pain strained his heart, making him double over. He dropped the iced glass, and it shattered against the marble tiles of the patio. His knees weakened, making him lose his balance, and he almost collapsed on the glass shards. Derek grabbed the rail, guiding himself to a nearby velvet couch inside his chamber. Plopping carelessly onto the velvety cushions on his stomach, he began to break out in a fresh sweat as the pain in his heart escalated.

  Was he dying of heartbreak? Wisps of the dream came back to him, and Derek’s heart ached to see Emerald again. Just one glimpse to comfort him, to know that she was okay.

  Another sharp pain rocked Derek, causing him to convulse in the softness of the velvet couch. He let out a sharp grunt. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain as much as possible.

  Loud footsteps pounded against the floor, transferring its vibrations to his head. “Your Highness, I heard something break!” Silas saw the shattered glass, then saw Derek lying on the sofa. “Are you not well?” Silas ran over to him, turning his body over while placing his hand over his burning forehead, gasping. “I’ll fetch the palace physician.”

  Derek stopped him, waving his hand. “No, that is not necessary. It must be the food from last night’s dinner not agreeing with me. I must get ready,” he said as his thoughts focused on Emerald. “I need to see the princess.”

  Silas stood above him for a moment in disbelief. “Are you sure? You don’t look well at all—”

  “I insist,” Derek interrupted. “Now, tell me what garments you chose for me.”

  “Your Highness, I have selected your light-blue regalia this morning.”

  “Fine choice. Just let me rest here for a few minutes.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Silas bowed. Derek heard his footsteps trailing out the door, then shut the door behind him. Every movement Silas made was bothersome, as if the volume of the noises had been turned up.

  Derek closed his eyes again to take the edge off his headache. The light in the room was much too bright for him, causing him to wince. A sudden spasm in his chest twisted his insides, like his heart was collapsing, or worse, failing him.

  Get through this, he ordered himself. Emerald will be there. You must see her!

  Derek continued to lie on the couch, thinking of Emerald. Her bright-green eyes. Her beautiful smile, the one she’d given him the night they danced. Her delicate touch as he held her close in his arms. With each thought, his mind eased, the pain melting away.

  Within the depths of his mind, he heard a subtle laugh.

  Wasn’t that fun? the voice inside his head asked. We should play more often.

  Alarmed, he looked around the room. No sounds were heard but the wind coming from the patio. He was alone.

  ***

  The tension was thick as Derek entered the main dining hall. His pale-blue cape swept behind him as he moved across the room in anticipation, hoping to see Emerald. Scanning the hall, he saw with disappointment she wasn’t present—only the Inner Council and King Damaris were seated at the grand table. His heart sank.

  As he approached the table, Derek became keenly aware of his boots clicking on the marble tile, echoing within the hall. At the table, no one had lifted a single piece of silverware to start in on their meal; they simply sat in silence. The Inner Council’s faces were pale in contrast to King Damaris’s, which was beet red and flush with anger. No one bothered to greet Derek as he walked up and took a seat. Instead his presence was met with resistance, and he got the distinct impression he was not wanted. Damaris’s eyes held fast on Derek, watching his every move.

  “Is everything all right?” asked Derek, eyeing the King as he took his seat hesitantly. Every face locked on to his, making Derek regret asking such a question.

  Damaris’s face darkened, his green eyes seeping with hatred. Without a word, he slid a folded note toward Derek. The seal had already been broken—most likely everyone at the table had already read it.

  “What’s this?” Derek asked, his heart quickening as the Inner Council continued to stare at him.

  “I had hoped that you would tell me,” the King snarled, folding his hands on the table. “We found it in the first handmaiden’s possession.”

  Picking up the note, Derek opened it cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. After a final glance at Damaris, he began to read it.

  Derek,

  I am sorry that it has come to this. My father made it very clear that we are not to be wed, nor will we ever be. My heart was sincere when I said that I wanted n
othing more than for us to be together, but it seems that it is not possible in this lifetime. I hope you find true happiness in someone else.

  Emerald

  Swelling anger bubbled in Derek’s chest, burning with bitterness and resentment toward Damaris. Derek’s eyes jolted straight toward the King. Crumpling the note within his fist, he slammed the table, rattling the delicate china. “Tell me, is this true? Was I never to have a fair chance to wed your daughter?” Derek asked, raising his voice. “Was me trying to bend over backward to win the princess just a game to you?”

  Without moving from his seat, Damaris’s eyes narrowed. “No, you never had a chance. Nor will you ever.”

  Derek shot up, hovering over the table, clenching his fists. He threw the note back on the table. “Then why give me hope? Why did you tell me that I had a week here in Arcadia?”

  Damaris sneered at him. “Because I wanted to see your face when I wore you out and told you no at the end of the week. Haven’t you learned, boy, I despise your father, which means I despise any rotten spawn of his.”

  “I don’t know what my father did to wrong you, but I am not my father!” Derek turned, peering at the table. The Inner Council didn’t bother to jump into the conversation, not wanting to feel Damaris’s wrath. “Where is she? Where is the princess? Why isn’t she here? What have you done with her?” Derek demanded.

  Shooting up from his seat, Damaris roared, “You tell me, Prince Derek!”

  Derek froze at the King’s words. “I don’t understand…” He fumbled the words, not grasping the situation.

  A small voice interrupted the moment of silence. “Prince Derek, the princess has gone missing. We cannot locate her anywhere within the palace,” Councilor Emerys said gravely. “Did you see her at all yesterday afternoon? Or perhaps in the evening? We must know.”

  All eyes were on him, as if he knew exactly where Emerald had gone.

  Derek couldn’t believe that no one in the palace had any idea where Emerald was. Emerald, gone? That was impossible. The King himself had had her on lockdown within the palace for how many years, with handmaidens and guards constantly watching over her like a prized animal. It seemed unfathomable that she had slipped past everyone. But at the same time, her note did have a sense of finality about it.

  Worry spread through Derek like wildfire. He was panicked just thinking about Emerald, out somewhere in the midst of Arcadia. The mere thought caused a physical pain to flare up, spasming deep within his chest. His right hand smacked down on the table, propping him up weakly while the pain twisted in his heart. Taking a deep breath, he composed himself.

  “The last time I saw the princess was yesterday morning,” Derek said mildly, catching his breath from the chest pains. His gaze met Damaris’s, their eyes locking on to each other’s. “I was under the impression that she wanted to see no one last night, including myself. After all, that was what I was told by everyone at dinner.”

  “Do not mock me,” Damaris snarled, throwing his wine glass to the floor, giving Derek a cold, hard stare. “Where is she?”

  “I truly have no idea where she is, Your Majesty,” Derek said, shaking his head anxiously. “But we must find her. I will do everything I can to help.”

  “There is no we,” the King said.

  Derek jerked his head to Damaris, moving swiftly toward him. “Whatever differences you have with my family, please, Your Majesty, let me prove myself. Let me find your daughter for you.” Derek didn’t like begging, but this was his last hope to win Damaris over.

  “This is your doing!” the King spat. “If it weren’t for you, my daughter would still be happily wandering the palace!”

  Derek looked at him incredulously, turning wildly around at the room of eyes peering at him. “My doing? This has nothing to do with me.”

  “This has everything to do with you! EVERYTHING!” Damaris roared, kicking the dining table. The bulky table moved a good two inches, making a screeching sound against the flooring, rattling the china. “Guards! Arrest him!”

  Derek flung back his cape in disbelief as guards came running in, closing in on him in a circle. “On what charge?” Derek spat out.

  “For interfering with the royal family’s business!”

  “Interfering? You mean talking with the princess? Telling her that I care for her?” Derek said, raising his voice and turning around to face each of the guards.

  “For meddling in my affairs!”

  “Ridiculous. This is utterly ridiculous.” Derek fumed as the guards surrounded him. His eyes met Damaris’s, his face narrowing into a scowl. “You are making a grave mistake.”

  “Confine him to his quarters, and purge any and all communication devices from it!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the guards said in unison.

  “Word will reach my father,” Derek said loudly. A guard reached for his arm, but Derek yanked it away. He was much more muscular than the guard, and both of them were keenly aware of that fact. “Don’t even think about touching me,” he snapped to the guard in warning. He turned to Damaris. “My father will know when I don’t contact him. He will send troops, that I can assure you.”

  “Did I just hear a threat?” Damaris laughed mockingly. “Let your father send troops. I dare him,” he said sharply, waving him away. “Now, remove him from my sight before I start handing out execution orders!”

  The guards hurriedly pushed Derek away, leading him out into the palace corridors. He had only been in Arcadia less than forty-eight hours. And within that time frame, he had proposed to the princess and been arrested. Just for making his intentions known. His father had warned him, but Derek had never thought it would come to this. And what of Emerald? The thought of her lost in the city sickened him.

  He needed to find Emerald before something happened to her.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  GREEN

  Emerald awoke in the early hours of the morning. She glanced over the edge of the cot to see Kyle lying on a single ragged blanket sprawled across the floor. He was passed out, oblivious to the world around him. Next to him was his pack of cigarettes, an empty liquor bottle, and an ashtray littered with cigarette butts. One half-smoked cigarette butt was wedged in the holder.

  She was still tired from the night before, but her excitement from leaving the palace overruled her need for sleep.

  Intrigued by Kyle’s apartment, Emerald ran her eyes across the room. It was the smallest living place she had ever seen. The apartment was laid out in a square, with one large window opposite the entrance. Next to the door, Kyle’s small bed hugged a half wall. The other side of the wall housed a small kitchenette and space for a table. But Kyle didn’t have a table; instead a guitar and amp occupied the spot. There was a used wooden chair near the window, clothes stuffed in a corner, and one door leading to a bathroom. The bathroom itself had enough space for only one person to stand in, unless one was in the shower. The very thought that people lived the way Kyle did gave Emerald a new perspective on the life of Arcadia’s citizens.

  Emerald thought back to what had happened at the motel. If what Kyle said was true, she needed to somehow get an ID card. Was there a way to acquire one using a false identity? As much as she would feel guilty doing so, she didn’t have any other options. She made a mental note to ask Kyle when he woke up. Emerald perceived him to be the kind who knew how to cheat the system, or had friends who did.

  Quietly leaning over the cot, Emerald snatched her backpack from the floor. Rummaging through it, she grabbed a clean set of clothes, then tiptoed across the floorboards to the bathroom to change, careful not to make any noise to wake Kyle. She slipped on a shiny purple tube top, along with purple leggings and her tall boots. She brushed her hair up into a high ponytail, then secured it with a flashy purple bow, sliding on an armband, earrings, and the chain that had Derek’s ring hanging from it.

  Derek. Memories of him flooded her mind. Memories of his lilacs on her nightstand. The moment he confessed his true feelings fo
r her. Her engagement ring in his hand. In her mind’s eye, she could see the very position of how he held the ring out toward her with his adoring eyes. Emerald softly touched the ring, grasping the chain in her hand. A sadness came over her, but she shoved it out of her mind.

  It was never meant to be, she reminded herself, questioning once again if she had done the right thing. Father told me so.

  After Emerald used the toilet, she walked back into the room. Kyle was still sound asleep. It amazed Emerald that one could sleep through her making so much noise, as much as she tried to be quiet about it. Amongst the papers on his floor, Emerald found a piece of scrap paper and a pen in the mess. Seating herself on the ground next to the only window in the apartment, she began to sketch random images that came to her. While drawing, Emerald thought about what she should do next. She couldn’t stay with Kyle forever. She knew nothing about him, and she was lucky that he was willing to take her in for a night.

  Just when Emerald was about to finish her drawing, Kyle stirred from his spot. Emerald watched as he felt around for his pack of cigarettes, not even bothering to open his eyes. Blindly, he found the pack, then lit a new cigarette, still with his eyes closed.

  A sudden coughing fit sent his torso upward, and he sat himself up. Reaching for an empty liquor bottle, he hacked up a wad of phlegm and spit it into the bottle. He continued to smoke his cigarette, acting like the coughing attack had never happened.

  Charming, Emerald thought.

  Kyle grunted, then rubbed his head, still tired from the night before. His sleepy eyes landed on her as he realized someone else was in his apartment.

  “You’re still here?” he asked, confused, puffing on his cigarette.

  “Was I not supposed to be?” Emerald asked.

  “I dunno. It’s entirely up to you. I would have thought you would be gone by morning. Most women would.” He laughed, the smoke forcing its way out of his mouth.