Page 107 of Crown of Slumber

My breathing sharpened as I recalled the events from earlier. The ogres. The stone slab. The chanting and the ritual I was almost sacrificed for.

Fenn, in his unholy fury, cutting down the ogres to save me.

And… those three strange witches and their all-seeing eyes.

Welcome home.

We have waited so long for your return.

I shuddered, rubbing my arms to ward off the chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. My gaze fell on the small lavender vial resting on the little table beside my bed.

When you start to remember, we will come.

Those witches had to have been mistaken. Or they were speaking in riddles, as witches often did.

No amount of rationalization could ward off the prickles spreading along my arms. With a sigh, I shoved off the blankets and padded across the room to the wardrobe opposite the wide window.

Only then did I stop and glance up and down my body. I had gotten slashed by ogre claws and sliced with the tight restraints on my wrists and ankles, not the mention sustaining several head injuries. But my flesh was smooth and unblemished; not even a scarmarred my freckled skin. While I was unconscious, it seemed someone had bathed and changed me into a clean shift, though I couldn’t be too upset; I had been filthy.

I raised my hands in front of my face, running my fingers along each wrist. Not a single mark. Not even a dull throb of pain.

It was as if the entire incident with the ogres hadn’t happened at all.

Of course, no amount of healing could erase the memories permanently seared into my mind. I closed my eyes, rubbing my temples as I tried to rid my thoughts of that otherworldly chant, of the tall ogre leader and the words he spoke to me.

I shook my head, throwing open the wardrobe doors so loudly one of them banged against the wall, making me flinch. I had to dress, had to get out of this room…

I frowned, glancing out the window again. Where was I? Was this the Court of Twilight, or the Court of Midnight? Fenn had mentioned we would be stopping to visit the Twilight King and Queen first, as they had information about the Dream Mage. But I didn’t think they had magic healers in their court, as half their population was human.

I made my way across the room to the massive window. Millions of stars glittered from the midnight sky, and a glowing crescent moon illuminated the scene below. I was at least three stories high, perhaps more. I could make out a grand courtyard below as well as a vast forest and a sparkling silver river. My breath caught in my throat at the way the water rippled, shimmering in the starlight.

This had to be the Celestial River that Fenn had told me about. Which meant we were in his court.

I swallowed around a lump in my throat, my stomach coiling with unease. We were supposed to announce our presence formally, to share the news of our engagement with the whole kingdom. Not be dragged in, half-dead, with the future Midnight Queen covered in blood and gashes, unable to even greet her people.

I shook my head. I wouldnotbe the Midnight Queen. It was all a ruse.

Even so, it gave us a bad image and tainted the facade we were desperately trying to maintain. I had to right this.

I found a rope dangling near the bed and pulled lightly. Within minutes, a handmaid arrived, and I let her into the room. She was a faint, slight figure with black wispy hair and pale green eyes. Her skin was tan, perhaps a shade lighter than Fenn’s. She bobbed a quick curtsy, her eyes darting from me to the floor and back again.

“What can I help you with, miss?” She wrung her hands together and bit on her lip, clearly uncomfortable in my presence.

I didn’t blame her. For centuries, our people had been sworn enemies. I yearned to put her at ease, to comfort her, but I needed to appear the future queen of her kingdom, not her friend.

I had to wear my mask again.

Lifting my chin, I said in a firm voice, “I wish to dress.”

“Of course, miss.” She bobbed another curtsy and bustled over to the open wardrobe. I glanced over her shoulder as she sifted through silver, navy, black, and violet fabrics, so very different from the bright and vibrant colors of the Summer Court. I was accustomed to wearing turquoise and cerulean and forest green.

The maid looked over the silk fabrics, then shot me an uncertain look, no doubt wondering which color would go best with my orange hair, myriad freckles, and rosy complexion.

“What’s your name?” I asked abruptly. I hadn’t planned on saying it, but I couldn’t stand the blatant terror shining in the girl’s eyes.

The maid gaped at me for a moment before squeaking, “Cela.”

I offered a small smile. “My name is Princess Aurelia.”

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