The music was unlike anything Ki'tory had ever heard before. It was amazing. Her heart was filled with joy as she looked around the ballroom in search of someone. A hand took hers from behind, and when she turned to see who it was, her smile fell.
Her body froze with fear, and all she could see of his blurred face was his red eyes. But she knew it was him, and she knew that this was another dream.
Every time she closed her eyes, he was all she could see; this nightmare.
"What do you want from me?"
His hand crept around her waist, and next to her ears, he whispered, his voice sounding like an echo from a thousand miles away, "What I am owed."
The ballroom broke into chaos.
Screams.
Blood.
Flames.
Ki'tory screamed, jolting awake. Imova and Aytao rushed to her bedside, worried. Ki'tory could feel the sweat on her brows. Her heart raced with fear from the vivid dream, and without answering any of their questions, she got out of bed and journeyed to the Cron Prince's floor, but the guards wouldn't let her pass.
"The Prince has forbidden you from coming here, Princess."
"Tell him to be careful of the guests that are allowed into the Castle during the Sun Ball. Tell him to make sure no Xoiqs get in."
The guard looked at her like she had lost her mind. "Your Highness, from what source do you spea—"
"JUST TELL HIM!" She snapped, and he nodded in fright before racing up the stairs.
Ki'tory rushed back to her room, only to receive a handful from Aytao, who reprimanded her about rushing out of the room, considering how she had collapsed and needed the Physician's help two days ago.
Two days ago?!
Two days had already passed? The Sun Ball was in two days, and she had made no progress?
Her hand slipped into her hair, her mind colliding with defeat and fear as her maids argued around her.
"You are too weak, Princess. Maybe you shouldn't attend the Sun Ball, you must take the moment to rest."
"No, Milady, you must go. I heard the Princess of Vugak is already in Rf'Guztak. You already have nothing strong so far, not attending the Ball will destroy you."
"Her health is paramount, Aytao! And what exactly does the Princess of Vugak have to do with this?"
"None of your business. Milady, I already prepared a dress that you will—"
"She must rest. She is sick."
"Silence!" Ki'tory snapped, and they stared at her in shock. "Do none of you know what the Prince and his mother are fighting about? Nobody! Not even a little bit? Nothing?! You are both useless to me. Ezuluz!" (Useless!).
She marched to the bathroom in rage and slammed the door firmly behind her, her heart racing as her mind played the images of the nightmare, while forcing her to relive the night they had found Eki's body over and over again. Tears streamed down her face, but asking for a moment of peace was certainly too much to request for in Rf'Guztak because not even a minute had passed since she slammed the door, and there was a knock on the wooden frame.
"Milady, you can't bathe; we will clean you."
Ki'tory rolled her eyes. Now that the adrenaline was vanishing in her veins, she could feel how weak she was from the injuries she had sustained. "Go away, I will clean myself."
"We will help where your hands cannot reach. The Physician said that you must not be stressed."
Ki'tory huffed. She attempted to clean herself as best as she could. When she stepped out, though, Imova had set the table, and Aytao was waiting with a bowl of water and a piece of cloth. "It is warm and I have added wood to the furnace so—"
Ki'tory surrendered. Ah, by Muktury, she missed her family; she missed Yarma.
Imova fed her soup, and Aytoa cleaned her. It was embarrassing, but she would live.
When they were done, she thanked them and asked, "Who saved me?"
"The Prince, Milady?"
Ki'tory shook her head. Even they thought he was the one.
"Imova arrived in your room and— tell her Imova."
"Well, Princess, you were on your bed, bloodied. The physician rushed in, claiming he had been summoned by the Prince."
What? That made no sense. It was either that the Prince was lying or that something was very wrong.
"Is there a problem, Milady?"
"None, whatsoever."
Imova rose up to clear the table and toss the water away. Ki'tory frowned, "You still have a limp?"
Imova smiled sheepishly, and Aytao scoffed. "Give in already. Just use the ointment he sent to you."
Ki'tory gasped, a familiar feeling rushing in her veins. It was like the times when she would gossip with her maids about attractive guards and how much they fancied them. She momentarily forgot her worries, the pressure of the time that was slowly slipping through her fingers, and for that moment, her sanity was saved. "You have someone? Tell me, tell me!"
"He is no one, Princess."
"If I were him, I would be offended to hear you say that. 10 cycles spent in the adoration of you and sending gifts, and you deny me. I would lose my mind."
Well, it seemed Aytao and Imova were closer than she thought.
"I don't even know him."
"He is probably a guard. He must be someone in the castle, though." Aytao turned to her. "Milady, we found the small bag at the door to our room, and I saw a guard leaving the hallway. It had to be him." Then she turned to Imova. "Perhaps you should leave a message for him at our door tonight so we might catch him, and have this secrecy over with. Help him out of his shyness."
"As if that would be of any use."
Before Ki'tory could comment on that, they heard a nail drop from the Waking Candle. It was late in the morning. Aytao checked her sandglass, and her smile faded.
"I need to go to my mother, it is time to take her herbs, and she wouldn't know it."
Ki'tory asked how her mother was and if she needed more jewels or pearls.
"No, Milady. The ones you have given me are enough, I have nothing to exchange for them this time."
"I don't ask for anything."
"Do you have any letters to send home?"
"No."
"Then, I must go."
Aytao rushed out, and Ki'tory stared at Imova in confusion.
"Must there be something given in return?"
"Yes, or your fate will be bonded for life, a part of Rf'guztak believes that. Nothing is free."
"You believe it, with the ointment, is that why you haven't used it yet? Or do you think he would harm you with it?"
"He would never harm me."
Imova offered to use the ointment on her, stating that she knew the quality of it and how good it was for cuts and strains. Ki'tory declined politely. "It is your gift, you should use it first."
Being careful was better than being reckless.
"My gift. I wish he would stop."
"Why?" Ki'tory asked from where she laid on the bed.
Imova stood up from her bedside. "He gives me hope, Princess." She clutched the small bag against her chest. "Hope that my dreams can be true, that I could have someone who loves me despite everything that has been destroyed in me. But I would only be a fool to believe such, the Pleasure House stole my strength…" her lips quivered at her next word, tears welling in her eyes, "they stole my womb, and I will never bear a child for anyone. What man would want that?"
"The one who is yours. I know of a woman from a Pleaure House who found her own."
"Did she give him children?"
"I don't know, but they are very happy together. If you shut the door, you will never know if it would have been if you had only tried. Is that a regret you are ready to live with? When all of this is over, and you sit alone in the chair when many cycles have passed, is that something you're willing to remember without hating yourself? Is that a question you will ask without wanting a true answer?"
Imova frowned and she paced back and forth around the room, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head and smiled. "No, it isn't."
Ki'tory laid back and smiled, watching Imova unravel the small bag. There was a small piece of cloth in it, and Imova brought it to her.
"What does it say, Princess?"
"Read it yourself."
"I …cannot read. What pleasure would a prostitute's reading bring a man?"
Ki'tory received the piece of cloth without another word and she read it.
'Heal soon, my dearest Imova.'
Imova chuckled. "Dearest. I am someone's dearest. She pulled Ki'tory into an embrace, thanking her, but Ki'tory's mind was far away, her ears drumming with realization.
The ointment smelt of lavender, and the 'I' in Imova? She had seen it before.
By Muktury, it couldn't be.