I felt a comforting sensation enveloping my back and body, prompting me to stretch my legs and adjust to the plush feeling around me. Slowly, I opened my eyes, my vision blurring as I tried to focus. Sitting upright, I attempted to take in my surroundings, but a sudden sharp pain shot through my head, causing me to clutch it tightly.
As the pain subsided and my vision cleared, I found myself gazing at the large, elegant bed beneath me. Confusion clouded my thoughts—this wasn't the cottage.
I scanned the room, realizing I was in a vast, opulent space filled with expensive decor and antiques. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, its gold and white design commanding attention. The bed I was on was enormous, draped with a purple canopy adorned with golden tassels, its luxurious mattress explaining the comfort I had just experienced.
My gaze shifted to the large window set into the wall, its design meticulous and ornate. I stood up, drawn to it, and walked over. As I peered through the glass, a gasp escaped me. The sight before me was astonishing—I was far above the ground, looking down at cottages and various buildings scattered across the island.
"I remember now," I muttered to myself, the memories slowly coming back.
"I'm in the castle. Damn it," I retorted, a mix of frustration and realization washing over me.
"Good morning, Miss Emily," she greeted me politely, her demeanour calm despite my apparent annoyance. "I'm here to help you prepare for your meeting with the King."
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice edged with irritation at her unfazed politeness.
"I'm the castle maid," she replied, her smile strained but steady. "I'm here to assist you."
I sighed inwardly, taking in her attire. It was different from Trevon's and Lucinda's, so she must indeed be a maid. I couldn't direct my frustration at her.
"What do you mean by 'prepare'?" I asked, attempting to sound calm.
"You need to bathe and have your makeup done," she explained. "And, of course, dress appropriately."
"Okay," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though my frustration and unease were mounting with each passing moment. I couldn't understand why this elaborate preparation was necessary for meeting the King.
✨🌙✨
Hours later, I found myself standing in front of a mirror, the maid diligently adding the final touches to my hair.
"You look beautiful, my lady," she complimented, stepping back to admire her work.
I gazed at my reflection, struck by awe and admiration. The off-shoulder white dress that flowed gracefully to the floor was nothing short of exquisite. The bodice, adorned with red gems and crystals, transformed the simple gown into something extraordinary. The layers of fabric in the skirt created a voluminous, fluffy effect, while a trailing piece of fabric from my sleeves gently brushed the floor.
I delicately touched the red gem necklace around my neck, feeling a rush of excitement. My hair, interwoven with ribbons, was styled to perfection. The makeup, though simple, enhanced my features flawlessly, complementing the elegance of the dress.
"That will be all, my lady. Advisor Trevon will escort you to the King," the maid said, bowing gently before leaving me alone in the room.
My mood shifted back to pure irritation at the reminder. The prospect of dealing with both of them was less than appealing, and I could feel the tension building inside me.
"What do they need from me?" I muttered quietly.
There was a knock on the door, making me freeze anxiously in front of the mirror. I kept quiet, ignoring the knocking sounds until a voice called out.
"Miss Emily, may I come in?" Trevon asked from the other side of the door.
I sighed in contemplation. I couldn't hide in here all day; I had to face them.
"You may," I answered calmly.
The door opened, and Trevon stepped into the room, walking towards me with his usual calm demeanour. My back was turned to him, but I watched his reflection in the window.
"You look beautiful," Trevon complimented gently, his warm smile evident even through the mirror.
I chose to ignore his compliment, keeping my gaze fixed sharply on the mirror, hoping he would sense my anger and irritation.
Trevon seemed to pick up on my mood; his expression grew more serious as he stood beside me.
"How was your sleep?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
"I woke up with a sharp pain in my head," I replied bluntly. "Thanks to you."
"My apologies," he said sincerely. "That wasn't meant to happen, Miss Emily."
"Lucinda tends to act irrationally at times," he continued, his hand reaching towards me. His gaze was intense as it locked with mine. "I understand your anger," he said softly, almost in a whisper. "But just take my hand this once and let me lead you to the King."
Feeling awkward under his intense gaze, I quickly averted my eyes and extended my hand to him, accepting his offer to guide me out of the room.
✨🌙✨
With my hand in Trevon's, we left the room. My eyes widened at the grandeur of the hallway stretching before us, its width and height accentuated by walls adorned with exquisite wallpaper and large windows. A line of guards, their stances serious and attention sharp, parted to allow us passage.
"Every guard and maid will ensure your stay here is comfortable," Trevon said, noticing my gaze on the guards.
"Not without my family," I replied, the words slipping out before I could fully consider them.
Trevon hummed in acknowledgement but didn't press further.
✨🌙✨
We soon arrived at the dining room, a vast space dominated by a long table filled with an array of foods, snacks, and drinks. The air was thick with the scents of the feast. At the end of the table, an elaborately decorated chair stood out, clearly reserved for the highest dignitaries most likely the King.
Trevon guided me towards the elaborate chair and motioned for me to take a seat on the left side of it, clearly indicating my place for the meal. I complied, sitting down with calm resolve. Trevon then took a seat opposite mine, on the other side of the table.
"Who's sitting here?" I asked Trevon, pointing to the elaborate seat between us.
"The King," he answered.
Trevon's gaze shifted to the entrance of the dining room, his focus intense. Curious, I followed his gaze.
A tall man walked into the room, flanked by two guards. He moved with a commanding presence, passing the array of chairs and heading straight for the seat between us.
As he settled into the ornate chair, I couldn't help but study him closely. His face was obscured by a black cloak, which concealed both his face and attire. The air seemed to thrum with an unspoken authority as he took his place as the King, his posture relaxed but undeniably regal.
Suddenly, the man lifted his hands to his cloak, allowing it to fall away and reveal his face.
"He's handsome," I said out loud, unable to contain my surprise.
A coughing sound from Trevon caught my attention, his face a mix of shock and bafflement as he stared at me. Laughter erupted from the King, his face lighting up with amusement and delight at my unexpected comment.
Confused by the reactions, I quickly realized what had happened.
'Wait, did I say that out loud?' I thought, my face burning with embarrassment. My hand flew to my face, trying to hide from their curious eyes.
"My apologies," I mumbled, staring down at the food in front of me.
"No problem at all," the King replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Trevon cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. "King Ronan has something important to discuss. Your help is needed for the betterment of the Islands," he said, his tone serious.
Confusion clouded my expression. "My bakery skills are needed for the betterment of the Kingdom?" I asked, baffled.
Another chuckle escaped the King, and I felt my face flush with embarrassment once more.
"Emily," the King said, his voice warm.
"Yes, Your Majesty," I replied, unsure of how to address him properly.
"Call me Ronan," he said with a friendly smile. "Trevon mentioned that you're a Northerner"
My eyes widened slightly at this, but I quickly masked my surprise. "Oh, yes. I am," I replied.
"We need your powers to help us, to be exact," Ronan said calmly.
"Okay… There's a problem," I began, hesitating. "I've never used my powers. I can't control them."
Ronan's gaze turned contemplative as he looked at Trevon. I sensed a silent exchange between them.
"My guess is you never knew our magical abilities existed," Ronan said, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness.
"Yes," I replied quietly.
"Lucas is a bastard," Trevon interjected abruptly, causing me to shoot him a sharp look.
"Lucas?" Ronan inquired, intrigued.
"Why is Lucas a bastard?" I asked, trying to keep my anger in check, not wanting to raise it in front of the King.
"You've been married to him, and yet he never mentioned his abilities or origins, which might have given you some idea," Trevon said. "You only recently discovered his powers, correct?"
The implication hit me hard. It seemed they assumed I had been married to Lucas for years, during which he had concealed his powers from me. My mind raced at the thought.
"Yes, I just found out," I said quietly, feeling the weight of the conversation settle heavily on me.
"He was scared!" I defended Lucas as I noticed Trevon's smug look. "He would have been at risk of being killed, leaving me and our daughter all alone. That could have led to us being hunted," I explained, trying to leverage our cover story to my advantage.
"When he found out about the Island, he was probably relieved to finally be able to tell us the truth. And since then, we've been living here in peace," I continued, my gaze sharp and determined as I looked at Trevon.
Trevon's expression softened at my words, and I could see a flicker of understanding in his eyes. Ronan remained silent, observing the exchange with a thoughtful expression.
"Trevon, do you not like this Lucas?" Ronan asked with a smirk.
"We should get back to the plan, Ronan," Trevon replied, dismissing the question with a tone that suggested he wasn't eager to delve into personal matters.
"Well, you need not worry, Emily," Ronan said, turning his attention back to me. "You can learn everything about your powers in the castle library."
I felt a surge of delight at his words, thrilled by the prospect of finally accessing the resources I needed.
"Your daughter?" Ronan continued; his gaze curious.
I looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
"She's not a Northerner?" he asked, his mind clearly racing with thoughts.
"No, she's not," I answered.
Ronan shifted his attention to Trevon, who was now deep in thought.
"You didn't tell me she was married," Ronan said, his tone hard to interpret.
"I didn't take that into account," Trevon admitted, his gaze avoiding mine as I looked to him for answers.
"Shame," Ronan said sharply, his expression closing off any further insight into his thoughts.
"I want to ask a question," I said quietly, drawing the King's attention.
"Am I allowed to send a letter to my family?" I asked, my expression soft, trying to convey my desperation subtly.
"Sure," Ronan replied, his gaze steady on me. I sighed in relief, glad that I would be able to update the team on my progress.
"I have finally found my long-awaited answers" Ronan added softly, his gaze lingering on me. I stared back, confused by his sudden and somewhat unsettling comment. There was an undercurrent of something I couldn't quite place in his tone. I noticed the black gloves he wore on his hand, his arms completely covered making me furrow my brows in thought.
I glanced momentarily at Trevon, who was watching us with a knowing look as if he understood something I didn't.
"Would you like the maid to bring your food to your room?" Trevon asked, his voice cutting through the tension and drawing Ronan's gaze away from me.
"Yes," I replied, my voice steady.