“Those tales are a lie!” he spits, and I can feel the raging fire burning inside him.“You know she will never return to us! She is dead!”
“Are they, boy?” Her head tilts to the side, waiting for him to respond, but to my surprise, he doesn’t.
“As I was saying,” her wrinkled eyelids lift up from him to glance out the window, “the woman who carries the dark, midnight sky on her head and holds the brightness of the realms through her eyes, will be a light to the darkness that the realms have become since the Royal bloodlines vanished. Her skin will be marked by five birthmarks. Each mark represents the realms that create our universe, representing the Gods who have chosen us to be here. But most importantly, she is the one who will unite the stones of the ancient sword and defeat thetrue beast, bringing peace at last.”
My trembling hands can't stop rubbing against each other, a nervous habit I developed as a child. I scan the room, taking in my surroundings before my eyes land on Florian, standing tall with a stoic expression. I try to ignore his presence and focus on the door, secretly plotting my escape plan.
I am nosavior.
I am noqueen. She has mistaken me.
My mind races with thoughts of sprinting through the doors and freeing the horses from the trees. I may not know where to go, but I'll find a way back home somehow.
“The people of this Realm have been waiting years for the chosen one to appear. And now you stand before us,” she says while looking directly into my eyes.
My eyes flicker, desperate to avoid the tense gaze of the woman, but it's no use.
“What makes you think it's me?” I ask hesitantly as the insane possibility of this starts creeping up inside of me again. There’s no way I am a Queen.
“You wear the marks upon your skin.” She walks over to me, leaning her hip against the table. Florian rushes to her side, grabbing under her arm as she makes her way over to me and lifts her aged fingers up to glide upon my cheek. “And there they are. Right under your eye.”
“None of this is true,” I softly say. I lift my hand and run my fingertips over the soft, unblemished skin on my cheek. She circles around me, crouching down and steadying herself on the edge of my chair.
“That is where you are wrong. You have forgotten…everything.” Her voice drops to a raspy whisper. Florian’s veins bulge from his neck as he rips his glare from me, his eyes narrowing into slits while he stares at the sun that rises up out the worn window.
“And there are the eyes. I had a dream once about your eyes.” She stares at them, almost as if she can see my life through them. “They have lightened over the years, haven’t they? I remember them being darker when you were just born.”
Her gaze softens, a gentle smile tugging in the corner of her lip. But her eyes that bore into me feel as if a lifetime has passed by and she has watched over me my whole life. Almost as if my life is playing through my eyes and she is watching it all.
But nothing makes sense.
“You were not raised here.” She reaches her hands up to my cheek, cupping my face. “You were raised by a man who rescued you and your sister. I see him.I see your sister in you.You two have always resembled your mother. You had a beautiful life but you have no memories of the truth.”
My body tenses as I stand up and gently remove her hands from my face. “Where is my sister?”
Her head hesitantly shakes. “I no longer see her through your eyes.”
“What does that mean!” My voice cracks.
Her leathery lips part to speak, but shut just as fast.
“What does that mean!” I grab her shoulders delicately.
The dull thud of Florian's worn boots echoes through the room as he leaves the two of us, each step he takes against the cold, wooden floor reverberating, creaking the old wood as he heads to the door. With every movement of his, my jaw clenches, fear stabbing at my heart as I wonder what he might do. Suddenly he halts, tilting his head to the ceiling. His fingers tussle through his hair and he rubs his chin before he lets out a deep sigh. He doesn’t hide his feelings very well.
I can read him like an open book.
He doesn’t believe what the woman is saying. Well, lucky for him, neither do I.
My eyes are drawn to him though, tracing his every movement as if pulled by an unseen force.
I can sense that his mind is elsewhere, far away from what is happening in this room, adrift in a sea of thoughts far beyond my reach. His hand instinctively finds its way to his chest, resting over his heart as if trying to slow its rapid beats.
His eyelids flutter close, shutting out the world around him. When they reopen, a darkness appears in his eyes that wasn't there before. He reaches under his worn-out shirt and retrievesa pendant, pressing it against his lips in a tender kiss before nestling it back into its hidden sanctuary beneath his shirt. He adjusts the shoulder piece of his scale-like armor with practiced ease.
“Florian?” I call out to him.
He cocks his head to the side. “You may call me,PrinceFlorian.”
