Chapter 8
Aliya's footsteps echoed down the hallway as she
left Arthur's room, her heart still racing from the confrontation. She had
never seen him so angry, so full of rage and confusion, especially over
something as simple as a birthmark. She had told him the truth—there was no
mystery behind the mark, no hidden story—but his reaction told her otherwise.
As she walked down the corridor, her mind buzzed
with questions. Why had he reacted like that? Why was he so intent on the mark
being something more? She barely understood it herself, but it was just a
mark—a birthmark, nothing more. Yet, Arthur's anger lingered in the air like a
dark cloud.
Aliya reached her room and closed the door behind
her with a soft click, leaning against it as if it could somehow protect her
from the intensity of the night. The silence felt suffocating, and she sat on
the edge of the bed, too tired to think but too restless to sleep. Her thoughts
kept circling back to Arthur and the strange way he had looked at her. His
coldness, his possessiveness—it all left her feeling unsettled. What was he
hiding? And why did the mark on her neck seem to matter so much?
With a sigh, Aliya undressed and lay down, pulling
the covers up around her. Sleep didn't come easily. The darkness seemed to
stretch endlessly, but finally, her exhaustion took over, and her eyes closed.
The dream came again but this time something was different.
She was standing in the same place as before—the
edge of a cliff, overlooking a vast abyss. The wind howled, and the sky was
painted in shades of red and black. It was a place of darkness, a place where
nightmares were born.
But this time, Arthur was there.
He was kneeling on the ground, facing the floor, his
shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Aliya reached out to him, desperate to make
him hear her, to reach him. "Arthur!" she screamed, but her voice didn't seem
to matter. He didn't even flinch. He remained motionless, unaware of her
presence.
"Arthur! Please!" She cried again, her voice
strained with panic. But he couldn't hear her. It was as if the distance
between them was unbridgeable, no matter how much she screamed, no matter how
much she pleaded.
Finally, he lifted his head, and for a moment, Aliya
thought he had heard her. But the face that met her eyes was not the Arthur she
knew. His features were twisted, darker, as if something had taken hold of him,
something beyond her understanding.
Aliya's heart pounded in her chest. "Arthur? What's
happened to you?" she whispered, taking a step closer. But as she reached out,
his eyes—those cold, empty eyes—locked onto her. She could see the sadness in
them, the torment, but there was something else… something dangerous lurking
behind his gaze.
Before she could make sense of what was happening,
the dream began to blur and fade, slipping away like sand through her fingers.
Aliya woke with a gasp, her body drenched in sweat.
The room was still dark, the only sound the rapid thud of her heart in her
chest. She sat up, gasping for air, as the remnants of the dream haunted her.
What was that? What did it mean?
She looked around the room, disoriented, her breath
still ragged. The images of Arthur's face haunted her mind, and a sense of
dread washed over her. There was something wrong—something she couldn't quite
understand. She had to get to the bottom of it. But before she could gather her
thoughts, there was a knock at the door.
Aliya's heart skipped a beat. "Who is it?" she
called, her voice trembling slightly.
The door creaked open, and one of the servants
entered, holding a small wooden box in her hands. "My lady," the servant said,
her voice soft. "Prince Artemis has sent this for you. He asked me to deliver
it in the morning."
Artemis? Aliya's confusion deepened. Why would he be
sending her gifts? She had barely spoken to him, and certainly not enough to
warrant such a gesture.
"Thank you," Aliya said, taking the box from the
maid's hands. The moment her fingers brushed against the lid, she felt an odd
chill run down her spine.
The maid gave a slight bow and exited the room,
leaving Aliya alone with the mysterious box. Her curiosity won out, and she
opened it.
Inside was a delicate silver necklace, with an
intricate design that looked almost familiar, as though she had seen it
somewhere before. At the center of the pendant was a small, shimmering stone
that glowed faintly in the dim light of her room.
She stared at the necklace, her mind racing. Why was
Artemis sending her this? And why did the pendant feel so… connected to her?
Before she could process any further, a soft voice
broke through her thoughts.
"I see you received my gift."
Aliya looked up in shock, her breath catching in her
throat. Standing in the doorway, with a soft smile on his lips, was Prince
Artemis.
"Why are you giving me this?" Aliya finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Artemis's expression softened, and he paused, as if carefully choosing his words. "It's a token of friendship," he said, his voice gentle. "But perhaps… something more." He smiled, a hint of mystery in his eyes. "When I saw it, I thought of you. I can't explain why, but it felt right to pass it along to you."
Aliya looked away, uneasy. "I don't understand," she murmured. "This feels… familiar, somehow."
He raised an eyebrow. "Then maybe it was meant for you." His gaze became searching, almost as if he was trying to read something in her face. "Have you seen something like this before?"
She hesitated, remembering brief flashes from her childhood, shadowed memories she couldn't quite grasp. "I… I think I have. My mother had one that looked similar." She glanced at him, sensing there was more behind his gesture. "Artemis, why do I feel like there's something you're not telling me?"
Artemis tilted his head, his expression a mixture of curiosity and caution. "There are things about the royal families that aren't known to many. Some secrets run deep, through generations," he said. "Sometimes, items like this carry a legacy with them. They hold stories of those who wore them before."
Aliya shivered, her fingers brushing the pendant. The weight of his words unsettled her, leaving her feeling as if she'd just stepped into something far beyond her understanding.
"So this necklace… it means more than just a gift?" she asked, her voice barely steady.
Artemis nodded. "Perhaps it does. But what it means to you—well, that's something only you can discover." He took a step back, his gaze still lingering on her. "Think of it as a reminder… to seek the truth, whatever that may be."
Aliya clasped the necklace in her hand, feeling its cool metal against her palm. "Thank you, Prince Artemis," she said softly, still unsure of what to make of his intentions.
He gave her a gentle smile before taking her hand and pressing it briefly. "Be careful, Aliya," he whispered. "The truth can be both freeing and dangerous."
As Artemis walked away, Aliya's heart raced, her fingers tightening around the necklace. She knew this gift was no mere trinket; it was a key to her past—a past she couldn't remember but could feel calling to her.
She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice Arthur watching her from the shadows, his face shadowed with anger and suspicion.