When I opened my eyes, I found myself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling, ornate with intricate carvings and painted in muted shades of gold and cream. I blinked a few times, disoriented. Turning my head slightly, a dull ache immediately radiated through my skull. The room was lavishly furnished—far more luxurious than anything I'd seen in years—with polished wooden furniture, embroidered tapestries hanging from the walls, and gentle sunlight spilling through curtains that danced softly in the breeze.
A few strands of my hair slipped over my forehead and fell into my eyes, irritatingly obscuring my vision. Instinctively, I moved to brush them away, only to find my hand immobile. Confused, I tugged harder, but it was firmly restrained. Panic surged through me, sharpening my senses as I realized both of my wrists were bound tightly to the ornate bed frame.
The door creaked softly open, followed by the sharp click of heels on polished stone. The footsteps approached steadily, echoing slightly in the stillness of the lavish room. From my position, I could barely lift my head, leaving the visitor frustratingly out of sight. Panic surged anew at my helplessness, my pulse racing. Desperation lent strength to my limbs as I wrenched upward with all my might. Metal groaned, and the ornate wood of the bed frame emitted sharp popping noises under the strain—but neither yielded.
The footsteps halted abruptly. Silence lingered briefly before a woman's voice, one I didn't fully recognize yet felt strangely familiar, cut smoothly through the quiet.
"My, my. Still so spirited, I see," she said softly, amusement lacing her tone. "Careful—you'll hurt yourself."
My back burned as she approached, a sharp sensation rippling beneath my skin, deep and resonant. Something within me stirred, reacting almost instinctively to her presence.
"Who... who are you?" I asked hesitantly, straining to see who stood beyond my line of sight. Fragments of memories flashed through my mind—blurred, distorted, but powerful. They weren't my earliest memories, but they felt undeniably important, as if the person standing just out of view held the key to something crucial.
"Me?" she replied gently, a faint sadness weaving through her voice, even though traces of amusement lingered beneath. "You know me. At least, I dearly hope you do. But given how much you've changed, perhaps you've forgotten after all."
I caught only the briefest glimpse of her hair, yet it was enough. Recognition surged through me, vivid and powerful . I didn't need any further reminder. Still, I remained silent, letting her words hang between us as I lowered my head back down onto the bed.
"Look at you," she murmured softly, approaching closer. "All grown up…but it's such a shame I couldn't reach you sooner and flame guide me i tried. The blessing I gave you was never intended for someone built by divinity. Honestly, I think it remains with you now only because you allow it."
I stayed silent at first, but my curiosity overcame my restraint almost immediately.
"What d—" I couldn't even finish my second word before she gently placed her hand over my mouth, silencing me. Her touch was soft, familiar, carrying the same warmth I'd experienced long ago.
"We don't have much time," she whispered urgently, leaning close. "Listen carefully, don't use any power or blessing you've received unless it's absolutely necessary. Your body holds the essence of a Deva, yet the blessing I gave you is infernal—it conflicts with your very nature. I'll return for you when the time is right, but until then, please, trust me."
Her face moved fully into my view, and I saw her clearly again. Strangely, she hadn't aged at all, still possessing the same otherworldly beauty I'd seen in the Dire Forest all those years ago.
I nodded slowly beneath her hand. "I'll trust you...mostly because I don't really have a choice." Then, in a quieter voice meant mostly for myself, I added softly, "But I also want to."
She moved out of my sight. I knew she was near only by the fading sound of her footsteps, which gradually quieted until I heard the gentle click of the door opening, then closing again. Just as I was ready to let my mind drift and process everything that had just happened, another voice sliced through the quiet, shattering any peace I might have hoped for.
My greatest torment—the princess.
"Awake at last, are we, my dear fighter?" Her voice was smooth, amused in a way that tightened painfully around my chest. "You had me worried, Edric. Damaging yourself like that... Don't you know how much I care for you? It's almost as though you're trying to hurt me. Was that your intent?"
She stepped closer, her heels clicking sharply against the floor, echoing in what I assumed was a rapidly cooling empty room—she made no acknowledgment of anyone else's presence.
"No, Your Majesty," I replied quickly, my voice low and careful like I was speaking to a wild animal. "I simply lost myself in the fervor of battle. It was never my intention to hurt you in any way." I poured as much sincerity into my words as possible, hoping not to provoke her further knowing full well what she was capable of when she felt justified in her actions.
She moved closer, now standing just beside the bed. I tensed involuntarily as her hand rested against my stomach, her touch sending a sickening chill crawling through my body.
"You know what, Edric?" she murmured softly, her voice dripping with unsettling sweetness. "When I watched you fight, I felt this... strange twinge in my chest. It was something entirely new to me. When I asked one of my handmaidens about it—after a bit of gentle persuasion—she explained what it was. Love." Her voice twisted around the word, savoring it like something bitter yet strangely appealing. "Imagine that. Me—a princess—falling in love with you... a slave."
She spoke as if I were merely an object, a toy she had suddenly discovered held some amusing new quality. Her tone felt slick, tainted, almost greasy, and it churned my stomach to hear her speak about me that way.
"When I asked them what I should do next," she continued softly, fingers tracing a slow, unsettling circle against my skin, "they assumed it must be some nobleman who'd caught my eye. So, naturally, they told me to make the first move, since my station meant the other party would never dare approach first." A quiet laugh escaped her lips, dark and unpleasantly amused. "They had no idea who I was actually speaking about."
She leaned in even closer, her breath ghosting over me in a way that made my blood run cold. "Still, I think I'll follow their advice and make my move anyway."