7. On Alert.

~DAHLIA~

When I wake up the next morning, the light strikes into my eyes from outside the high open windows of the cell.

I squeeze my eyes shut instantly and stir on the floor.

I couldn't sleep well last night. Even now, my mind is still filled with bitter memories I can't forget.

I dreamt of my father. Of his weak, last breath before he passed away.

I also dreamt of Andessa’s false accusations against me as she claimed my father's throne. Publicly humiliating me in my father's corrupt court with Alistair and Cressida bullying me before everyone like they always do.

The both of them watched as my world crumbled around me.

I will watch them burn.

Gathering strength into me, I manage to sit up, my bones aching me. Father's last words to me rings inside my head:

‘Andessa poisoned me. Trust… no one….’

He trusted the wrong person. Even he once told me that trust is a tricky virtue. One that must be thoroughly earned.

Yet, he didn't heed his own advice. He fell too quickly for that snake Andessa, and she killed him.

She accused me of his murder, killed my maidservant, dethroned me, and seized my birthright.

Upon the Creator, I swear I will have my full vengeance on Andessa!

I wipe off a tear that drops to my cheek, and right then, my ears register heavy multiple footsteps marching down the corridor outside. My bones and muscles are still aching me from the night I spent on the floor.

But the pain is nothing. I have suffered worse in the past.

My cell door swings open after a guard appears and unlocks it, and two middle aged women step inside, dressed like servants in flowing sky blue garments with rope waist belts.

Behind them, five other younger women also dressed like maidservants in ivory colored garments follow suit, all their heads bowed before me.

One of the middle aged women steps forward. “The Dragon King has ordered your release.”

Azraelyrs.

Of course he has to.

I say nothing, pushing myself to my feet while keeping my face blank to avoid displaying how tired I am and also really in need of a bath and some food.

As the middle aged women lead the way out, I follow them, and the younger maidservants join right behind me, keeping at least five distant paces away from me.

I don't know if it's traditional, or just them not wanting to be near a dirty dethroned human princess.

Either way, we continue walking in silence as the middle aged women lead the way through some winding corridors of the fortress until we finally stop before a pair of doors that are carved with golden symbols that look like twin dragons circling each other with their tails joined together in a twisty fashion.

Their meanings are unknown to me, but I am quickly guessing this might be the insignia of Drakarith.

Without a word, the middle aged women push the heavy looking doors open, revealing a massive bedchamber unlike any room I have ever seen before back in Velmira.

I hold in a gasp as I step into the room, my eyes literally feeling like it is locked everywhere in here.

The ceilings are high, really very high. And expansive too. They are adorned with dark banners bearing the same symbols I saw carved on the doors.

I am probably right. These symbols are the insignia of Drakarith.

The walls are smooth black stone sculpted with an artistry that speaks of Drakarith’s wealth and power. It's like everything in this fortress is built to remind outsiders that they are guests here, but only at the pleasure of the Dragon King.

A grand bed sits against the far wall, draped in black and gold silk sheets with spread out mandala markings of dragons. A marble bathing chamber is set into another far side of the room, steam rising from the heated water within.

“The King has ordered that you be bathed and dressed properly.” The same woman who had spoken back in the cell gestures towards the bath.

The king, the king, the king….

Damn. Does everything here have to revolve around Azraelyrs?

Forgive me, for a second I forgot that he is the King of this place. The ruthless Dragon King of Drakarith.

I wonder if I will get to see for myself how ruthless he can be using my step-siblings as the perfect pawns and lambs for sacrifice.

The younger maidens step forward, and I do not hesitate in obliging the woman's request. I allow the young maidens to undress me.

My body is bruised from the slashes of my cage wherein I was transported throughout my rough, bumpy journey on my way here, but I don't shyly cover my body, or let the slight shame I feel show on my face.

I also do not flinch as I step into the steamy bathtub and the warm water envelops me, and I breathe out deeply.

Finally….

I relax in the bathtub, keeping my eyes peeled open because there is no way in hell I am about to stupidly close my eyes and possibly get drowned by these women I don't know.

However, the maidens are gentle, their hands careful as they massage my scalp with fragrant soaps and wash away the filth of the dungeons from my body. The water contains scented oils and red flower petals I don't know of, but I guess their benefits will be good for my skin.

Done, the maidens wipe my body and apply scented oils on my skin that smell differently from the ones in the bathtub, but no less lovely. They also massage some of the oils into my hair and scalp before delicately combing through the tangled mess of my hair locks with their gentle moving fingers.

I remind myself that this is necessarily not kindness.

This is preparation.

By the time they are done, I am dressed in a regal yet simple gown of deep emerald blue, the color matching my eyes. The fabric is soft against my skin, and its embroidery looks imperial.

Like royalty.

Some parts of my hair are braided into beautiful designs that frame my face and are adorned with silver pins.

Staring at my reflection in the giant polished mirror, I don't see a dethroned princess brought here to die.

I see a queen in exile.

My stomach twists a bit.

Both in sadness and in hunger.

The young maidens step back as the middle aged women take over adjusting some other things on me like the jewelry and bracelets.

Done, they step back.

“We’ll be leaving to get your breakfast.” The second middle aged woman that hasn't spoken up, finally speaks, and I notice her voice is a little high-pitched than normal.

I nod. “Thank you.”

They dismiss themselves, bowing and leaving the room. The heavy doors close behind them.

And I release a breath I hadn't realize I was trapping inside me….