"He's dead! The prince is dead your majesty" The general announced as he removed his fingers from the boy's neck.
Lightening shook the skies and the rain poured in buckets drenching everyone. Silence wavered among the guests dressed in patterns of colors, they had gathered on the banks of the Dream river, trying to glimpse at the young corpse which lay motionless on the ground. King Rowan took in a heavy breath trying to compose himself. The guests shifted to leave, bowing and offering their condolences. The king too eventually left. As the crowd gradually thinned, I could now see the young boy, dressed in an all black suit. He was tall but slender, his youth was heightened by his athletic slightness. The rain had stopped, and the moon had shown its face. In the moonlight his pale skin shone brightly, his angular eye was pale silver, but the other eye was strapped with a patch. His hair was raven black and seem to flutter everywhere covering his forehead. He was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, a face carved by Hephaestus himself.
His difference stood out from the people who had surrounded me, he had after all come from the ends of the earth- east of the sun and west of the moon. Yet he also resembled his father: stoic and handsome.
The dead prince was a beautiful dark nightmare.
He seemed happy lying motionless in the dark, I slowly approached this boy who meant nothing to me and sank to my knees as tears flowed down my cheeks. I couldn't understand the pain throbbing in my chest or the tears which now stroked my cheeks wet.
"Isleen!" Someone was calling my name, but in my confusion, I only knew the annoyed sound seemed familiar.
I turned to take another glimpse at the boy, a sob rose-up my throat.
"Isleen Marchand!" said the voice again with more urgency and suddenly the room was filled with light- a sharp bright light which I was happy to recognize as the sun, cracking through the glass windows.
"You certainly sleep a lot child!" The voice belonged to a woman: the voice I had heard a thousand times in my life.
"Did you have one of your silly dreams again?" I robbed my eyes while simultaneously nodding at Abigail.
"You know I can't control them Abi!" I groaned.
She hated when I called her by her nickname. Abigail was one the servants who I had known since I was little, she was the only person I knew I could trust in this prison which I had been trapped for all of my life.
Abigail ignored me as she pulled the velvet curtains back.
"You seemed to be crying" She let out with a sigh filled with concern.
"It was nothing. Like you said another silly dream." But we both knew that was a lie for no matter what my dreams were they would always come true.
"Madame would like to see you" Abigail replied as she helped me put on a crystalline blue dress. "She always avoids me, why a sudden change of heart?" I asked but I knew I had to expect the worse.
**********************************
The dinning room was located at the west wing, it was a huge room illuminated by an immense gasolier which hung from the ceiling. The marble walls were covered by sideboards filled with precious china. The ceiling was covered with shattered mirrors. In the middle of the room was a long dinning table draped with white Lenin and only one side was set.
Two people were already sitting, Rosaline and her beautiful daughter, Takara. They both resembled each other, with their icy blonde hair and ocean blue eyes, except Takara's cheeks always had a tint of rouge. Their beauty resembled their acquired power, their ability to control ice. The temperature felt colder wherever they presented themselves.
"Come sit, Isleen" she commanded with her silky voice.
"You asked to see me?" Takara played with her croissant pretending I didn't exist.
"Yes, your father asked us to go to the summer house with all the staff, to prepare for prince Talon's birthday." She said coolly "Though what confuses me, is he did not ask for you to accompany us." Rosaline hated when father did not inform her about his business inquiries with the palace, he was one of the king's advisors and one of the strongest shadowdwellers in Ardhelis.
"Perhaps, he's trying to get rid of her mother" Takara snorted. I could feel blood surging under my veins and despite the room being frozen my body felt hot.
Rosaline stared at her daughter with a slight upwards curve of her lips.
I straightened my back "Rosaline, you know father doesn't inform anyone of his inquiries, maybe Takara is right." I shakingly respond, with that I got up and stomped towards the oak doors.
"My dear, you certainly have a sharp tongue for a fourteen-year-old." Rosaline said with a sneer
I managed to pull the doors open and walk into the warmth of the dark corridors.
The days turned into weeks and with the passage of time the house became empty. Rosaline and Takara had left with all the servants and I was left with the dancing shadows on the wall as my company. With time my concern over my dream also gradually faded.
**************************************
I sat myself against one of the windows in the library, staring at the first drops of fluttering snow. The night looked pale against the whiteness. I suddenly notice two silhouette figures enter the gates and walk towards the house. I grab the hems of my white dress and dash towards the entrance. My steps slow as I reach the curvature staircase.
I gasp at the sight in front of me, my father with his uniform, his gray hair streaked back and his hand on the shoulder of a cloaked figure.
I can feel my heart coiling together, a tall handsome boy stands in front of me.
The boy from my dream.
The dead prince.