The maiden opened her eyes, wide awake, searching for air.
Then she blinked, startled.
She saw stars, and even the moon. But it wasn't the sky by the sea. Stars and moon embroidered on the bed canopy.
Her nuptial bed.
Her throat felt parched, and she had a bad taste in her mouth. The air didn't smell like the unbearable charcoal-saturated air, but delicious-smelling wood and a little benzoin and laurel.
"Alexander, I had a dream ...," whispering she turned, hoping to find the Sleeping Prince at her side. But she was alone in bed.
And there was this thing around her hip, a kind of rag or… a baby diaper?
With some effort, the maiden sat down. She soon realized that the room was not Alexander's room. The ceiling was different, and the walls lined with luxurious wood panels were unfamiliar. Only the bed was the same.
"Romeo?" she called, but she didn't see the ornate cage. But her voice ...
It wasn't her voice.
