Her shoulders slumped, and she pressed her palms into her lap, fingers gripping the fabric of her skirt. He was right.
“I promise,” Lewis said, softer now. He stood and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll go to the Chancellor first thing tomorrow.”
Vivienne nodded, the fight draining out of her.
Lewis lingered for a beat, as if debating whether to say more, then exhaled and turned toward the door. The cool night air rushed in as he stepped outside, and she watched as his silhouette faded into the darkness, his boots crunching lightly against the stone path toward the Crown dormitories.
Her chest ached.I wish he’d stay.
But she didn’t say it. Instead, she let the door close, sealing the thought away with it.
* * *
Get some sleep,he says. Sure. I’ll just climb into my warm, comfortable bed and not think about my parents being lost at sea.Vivienne rolled onto her side, then onto her back, then onto her side again. The mattress beneath her felt stiff, the blankets too heavy, the air in the room thick and suffocating. No position, no adjustment, could quiet the storm raging inside her mind. After hours of tossing and turning, her blinks grew slower, longer, and sleep dragged her under.
At first, the dream was soft, peaceful.
Her parents stood on the deck of their ship, The Nereid. The sea stretched calm and endless around them, waves lapping gently against the hull. Her father stood at the helm, guiding the vessel forward with steady hands. Her mother leaned against the railing, the wind catching in her dark hair.
Without warning, the light dimmed.
Clouds gathered, thick and black, swallowing the sun. The wind sharpened, howling like a ravenous beast. The waves swelled into mountainous peaks, their foamy crests crashing against the ship’s sides.
Her parents’ expressions shifted. First, concern. Then fear.
A bolt of lightning split the sky, its blinding light revealing a jagged outcrop of rocks, rising from the churning sea like the gaping jaws of a monster.
Vivienne’s chest tightened.No.
The ship lurched.
The hull groaned in protest as the current seized it, dragging it toward the rocks.No, no, no?—
Her voice failed her. She tried to scream, to warn them, but no sound escaped her lips.
A sickening crunch rang out as wood splintered against stone. The Nereid buckled. The mast snapped like a twig, planks tearing free as waves devoured the ship piece by piece.
An explosion erupted from below deck, igniting the night in a blinding inferno. A plume of smoke billowed into the storm-blackened sky as the gunpowder stores ignited, reducing the ship to a floating pyre.
The flames engulfed her parents.
She reached out, desperation surging through her veins. Her hands passed through them, through the fire, through everything, as if she were a phantom.
Her father’s mouth opened in a silent scream. Her mother’s eyes locked onto hers, pleading, terrified, before the fire consumed them both.
The storm collapsed inward, plunging the world into darkness.
Vivienne bolted upright, gasping. Sweat slicked her skin, cold against the night air. The room was still, silent, but her heart pounded a loud, frantic drumbeat against her sternum.
She wiped at her face, her fingers coming away damp.They’re not gone. You had a nightmare.She whispered the words over and over, willing them to take root, willing them to make the fear dissipate. But the images refused to release their grip. The flames, the splintering wood, the helplessness pressed on her chest like an iron weight. Tears welled again. She buried her face in her hands, fingers tangling in her hair as silent sobs wracked her body.
Please, let them be safe. Please.She sent the prayer into the darkness, to any gods who might be listening, before sleep claimed her again.
* * *
Morning light slashedthrough the small window, an unwelcome intruder after a night of fitful sleep. Vivienne groaned, pressing her face deeper into the pillow, but the ache in her muscles made even that unbearable. Her joints protested as she shifted, and a dull sting lingered behind her eyes, whether from exhaustion or the remnants of last night’s tears, she couldn’t tell.
Judging by the angle of the sunlight spilling across the wooden floor, the day had crept far past breakfast.Closer to lunch than morning, she guessed.
