It was all strange…
"—Ahhm," a low sound fled her throat.
"You're mine," Marlowe heard the gruffness in the dangerous tone. Yet she found it difficult to decipher her surroundings.
'What's happening?' with wrinkled brows in her slumber, she asked herself.
Maybe this could be a dream?
Her subconsciousness was not sure either.
But all she could discern was the gentle strokes on her cheeks, and it was weird how she felt like they were a pair of dangerous eyes, boring right onto face.
Rough but smooth, was the touch on her.
As if that wasn't strange enough, hot breath fanned her face. She could feel it, and even more…she could sense danger around her.
The dropped temperature spoke volumes, and even the discomfort in her lower back said it all.
Cold sweat broke from her temple as her expression twisted in an emotion she could not recognize.
Marlowe jerked upwards slightly as she felt a fleshly burn on the side of her waist.
Trying to escape it, she turned to her side…but could that be a mistake?
It was indeed, when she felt strong arms encircle her from behind. With a harsh pull, her back was pressed against something hard…and broad.
But those misbehaving hands stole her subconsciousness more, they felt…fearfully familiar.
"Ahh," she softly whimpered when she felt faint tracings on her waist to the down of her stomach, making her shrink it in on reflex.
If that was it, it would have been appreciated. But her prayers for the unknown felt useless when she received an abrupt nerve racking sensation from the crook of her neck.
All of a sudden, her mouth became dry.
Her pale skin flushed under the moonlight, and all the while, Marlowe was as confused as hell about what was happening to her.
Her body instantly stiffened when a husky chuckle greeted her ear, so close; it was so close that she let out a shudder.
The monster behind the actions seemed pleased by her reaction.
She could sense maliciousness from the deepness in his throat.
'Why does everything feel so real?' Marlowe questioned herself in subconsciousness.
Her physical expression tightened into a grimace.
The minor movement of her body confused her too, she was heaving—she was breathless. Why? She asked herself in perplexity.
'This is supposed to be a dream. not so?'
Her skin tingled, making her afraid of herself already.
'What is happening to me?'
"Mine…You're mine," the carnality and charm, coupled with the hot breath filtering into her—what she now thought to be—sinful ears, Marlowe jolted awake with a moan.
Her chest heaved heavier than before as she struggled to take in air into her air-deprived lungs.
Her scattered hair stuck on her skin from the slick sweat that her heated body produced.
Marlowe frowned, she thought it was strange because the temperature was rather cooler than normal.
Then how was she able to sweat this much?
The question was puzzling, until she whipped her head to the side of the bed hastily, her heart in disarray and even her face didn't fail to prove that.
Her uncertain brows knitted confusedly.
She was sure that there was someone beside her just now, just before she awoke.
Then, where could he be?
Reminiscing about her thoughts, her eyes flew wide in shock.
There was a man by her side?!
How? When? Why?
Or was she just imagining things?
Marlowe looked upward at the resplendent ceiling while praying that it was really her imagination.
Perhaps it's the mental stress from everything that was finally taking its revenge. In the most embarrassing way ever.
Something definitely must be going wrong with her, and Marlowe knew it.
She wasn't the type to fantasize about men, she doesn't even know how it feels to be touched by a man, then why these dreams all of a sudden?
No, they were nightmares—because they scared her to hell.
Just then, a knock reverberated on the door before it was being pulled open without a sought permission, Marlowe intently watched to know who it was; and it turned out to be Merkin.
A glint of confusion flashed across her eyes before immediately being replaced with reddened cheeks when the maid's figure came into view—she couldn't believe she was expecting the perpetrator in her nightmare to show up from that door.
"Good morning, Your Majesty,"
"Do you shut the windows and door before you leave, Merkin?"
Puzzled by the prompt question, Merkin blinked twice in a row, her bewilderment vividly seen in her clear dark eyes.
"Yes, I always do, Your Majesty," her eyes impulsively darted to the shut windows, before looking back at Marlowe, "Is anything the problem, Your Majesty?" she asked, concerned.
Processing her response, Marlowe lowered her head as she internally debated with herself.
'Then that could only mean it's a dream right?'
'If it isn't, how did he come in?'
'that's basically impossible, right?'
Suddenly, her eyes flickered with fear. 'What if he was a magic creature? Surely he'd have the power to enter into the chamber,'
'could he be dangerous? What if he is?'
"Your Majesty?!"
"Huh?" Marlowe snapped back to life, gaping at her maid, Merkin with the same expression as she wielded earlier.
"You look disturbed, Your Majesty. Does it have anything to do with the door and windows?" with brows inquisitively raised, Merkin asked.
"Ah…no, it's fine I'm okay, thanks," she fanatically said, as she rubbed her temple repeatedly, exhaling breathily, she asked Merkin, "Is there anything important for today?"
"Oh, yes, Your Majesty. Actually, I came to inform you that the tutor will be late by two hours, so you have leisure time to yourself until your class begins." Merkin divulged with a smile.
She had witnessed how drained and strained her Queen was when she returned from the Royal class, so it was only normal to be delighted for her since she had already accepted her as her Queen.
But strangely enough, Merkin's glee was not met with Marlowe's, when she noticed the tense look she wore.
"What is it, Your Majesty?" ceasing her smile, she asked.
Marlowe looked at her with that innocent expression she always carries around—giving one the notion that she was a child if not for her developed, and matured body figure.
A silent understanding dawned on the maid and she vocalized, "The King's mother will be busy today since she had just come out last evening. You can take a stroll in the garden at your leisure time. I realized you quite liked it there last time?"
Marlowe quietly stared at her, her worry still palpable. "What if I run into a member of the Royal family?" She confessed her fear.
"Don't worry, the Royal family will all go to visit her today, it's a rule that cannot be broken in the Castle. So you're free to go anywhere without encountering any of the Royal members," Merkin assured.
Quite hesitant, Marlowe lowered her gaze.
That same bad premonition that attacked her when she was constantly assured by her father that she would not be chosen as the King's bride, made its prominent existence in her heart once again.
Now, look where she is.
"A—alright," throwing all her eggs in the basket, she murmured in acceptance.