Page 95 of Downfall of a Princess

The preparations for the arrival of the princes had been on the way for weeks. By now, almost everything was ready. The increased activity in the palace had the air buzzing with anticipation, which didn’t help with settling my nerves down enough to fall and stay asleep.

It took me just a few minutes of tossing and turning in bed to know I wouldn’t fall asleep tonight either.

With my nose pressed into the pillow, I realized I was breathing deeply, hunting for the traces of the familiar male scent that had long gone. I tossed the pillow aside and sat up.

Everything in here still reminded me of him. Subconsciously, I kept to one side of the bed, as if leaving space for him on the other. When having tea, I thought about his long, strong fingers crumbling the tea leaves to press them into the infuser. When getting into the bath, I thought about the creamy pink water sluicing around his hips, the tip of his hard cock bobbing over the surface, his body turning momentarily transparent withreflectionas I’d made him go undone.

On the sleepless nights like tonight, I also remembered how comforting the warmth of his body felt and how easy it’d been for me to fall asleep with him by my side, as if my soul had sensed the safety in his closeness and trusted him to keep nightmares at bay.

I climbed out of bed and threw on my cherry blossom robe over my nightgown. The patio doors were open, but the mid-summer night was too warm to cool off the room after the heat of the day. I caught myself sifting through the sounds from the garden, subconsciously waiting for the noise of a man climbing up the palace wall.

That sound could never come again. The lattice was no longer there, and the man might not even be in Egami anymore. The slaves had finished their work and left almost two weeks ago. Their barracks had regained their purpose as horse stables to accommodate the mounts of all the people arriving with the foreign princes’ extensive escorts.

I didn’t know if Salas had departed with the slaves or if he had accepted my offer and was now in the gladiators’ quarters. Gem had been sulking ever since I twisted her arm and forced my plan on her. She wouldn’t talk to me. But that was only a part of the reason why I hadn’t asked her about her conversation with the games master or how Salas took our proposition.

Either way, I had no control over his decision. I had to trust he would do what was right for him. Meanwhile, I had to do what was best for the queendom.

Drawing the ends of my robe together over my chest, I opened the door to my bedroom, crossed the sitting room, then slipped out into the hallway.

The guards by the door stood to attention, briefly bowing their heads in greeting. I walked past them toward the grand marble staircase with gold railings that led down to the main floor.

There was always someone awake in the palace. Someone rushed up or down the stairs somewhere. Servants were bringing late night snacks for courtiers suffering from insomnia like me or just staying awake on purpose. Wives might be visiting their husbands’ bedrooms. Courtiers would be sneaking in with their lovers. Or just a lonely princess wandering the halls aimlessly, with the sole purpose of killing night hours while running away from her worries and thoughts.

The night guards opened the doors to the throne room as I approached, and I walked in. This enormous room was the epitome of governance for me. The royal throne stood on the platform with three wide steps leading up to it. The three steps represented the foundation of support for the monarch of Rorrim Queendom—the people, the Temple of the Great Goddess, and the Royal Council.

A wide, floor-to-ceiling banner stretched on the wall behind the throne. The crest of Rorrim Queendom on it had been embroidered by the ladies of the council, the queen, and me. It had been divided into twenty-six parts. Each of us embroidered one. Then, the parts were assembled together as a symbol of unity in our government.

I found the section I’d worked on for several months while trying to lay every stitch perfectly straight. It depicted a ray of the golden crown in the middle and a white rose of peace over it.

Peace was treasured above all in Rorrim. But now, I wondered what peace really meant for my people. The mere absence of war clearly did not guarantee a peaceful life for everyone. Some waged inner battles more brutal than any war.

The mood in Egami City remained turbulent. The killer was still on the loose. Also, with so many foreign dignitaries arriving soon, peace would be hard to find anywhere in the capital.

The ancient mirror hung to the left of the queen’s throne. Since the night I’d fallen through it and into my mother’s arms, it had been covered by a long sheet of black velvet.

For the first time since that night, I approached it and splayed my hand on the soft material. My palm pressed against the hard mirror surface underneath. I hadn’t looked into this mirror since the day I arrived at Rorrim Queendom. I had no need to do so, no desire to come anywhere close to the world I’d left behind and feared to remember.

The fear had eased now. Looking back still felt unpleasant. I believed it always would be. But it no longer terrorized me with paralyzing horror. I have looked back, remembered, and I survived. The more I thought about the past, the less power it held over me. Little by little, I chipped away at the chains that bound my mind.

I was not afraid.

Taking the edge of the velvet shroud, I pulled it aside. The hard, glossy surface offered me nothing but the reflection of the throne room behind me and the face of the princess staring back at me.

She was older and far more confident than when I had stared into this mirror from the opposite side ten years ago. There was no fear in her eyes behind her glasses that looked like a piece of fine jewelry compared to the cheap, outdated plastic frame of the girl from the orphanage.

But there was no peace in the eyes of the princess, just as there hadn’t been in the eyes of the orphan girl. The sleepless nights had left shadows under my eyes. I looked tired and worn out by worry. I’d found safety and family in Rorrim, but happiness remained forever elusive.

“Ari!” The soft gasp came as a crack of a whip in the stillness of the night because Mother’s voice was powered by a sharp note of concern.

I turned around, letting the velvet shroud fall back in place.

Holding a candle lantern in one hand and the hem of her long robe in the other, Mother rushed to me from the doors left open by the guards.

“What are you doing up so late?” She smoothed the velvet over the mirror, making sure there were no gaps left between the fabric and the frame.

“Just couldn’t sleep.” I shrugged. “You?”

“I was on my way to the king’s wing and saw you in here.” She gently stroked my unbound hair. “Something is bothering you, my child.”

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