Afraid that if I stop moving, the world will finally catch up to me, and whatever is happening will become real in a way I can’t undo. The knight turns a corner without warning, and I nearly collide with his back. My hands are shaking as I shove them into my overall pockets.
This can’t be real… but it’s too detailed to be a dream and too solid to be a hallucination.
Every step I take on the hard stone beneath me gives me one less reason to believe this isn’t real. My thoughts are completely scattered, and then my hand finds the small blade in my pocket.
I never returned Sam’s pocketknife.
Sam.
My job.
My flat.
Are people looking for me?
Is anyone worried?
The knight coughs aloud and rips my thought from my mind.
“This is my wing of the castle,” he says without looking at me. He walks me through the main room, pointing at various items and mumbling under his breath. He leads me further down the corridor, points out his room, then opens another door for me. “This is your separate bedchamber and washroom,” he says, walking into the room. “You will have privacy here. While you are not technically being imprisoned, you are to stay within my sight. Do not leave my wing of the castle without me or another knight at your side.” He looks at me, his gaze sharp as if searching my face for signs of defiance or fear. I try to give neither, but my resolve crumbles under the weight of his intimidating stare.
“Oh, um. Okay, thank you,” I whisper.
Neither of us speaks as we stare at each other awkwardly.
Normally I would do anything to break this silence, fill the gaps between voices, but today...
Today I have no words.
“It’s only until the King decides what to do with you. I need to be sure you are not a threat to the castle,” he says, and the thought of the King deciding what to do with me sets a fresh rush of panic through my stomach.
“Well…I have to go sort some things out. Can I trust you to stay here and wait until I come back?” he asks me, though I’m sure it’s more of an order than a question.
“Yes,” I breathe out, unable to form anything more than one word. The knight looks at me, his brow furrowed. His jaw tightens, and he swallows before nodding at me and heading towards the door. He pauses at the doorway, turning to me with his hand on the doorframe.
“If someone has truly sent you here,” he says. “There is no use in trying to hide it. He will find out one way or another.” He eyes me carefully, waiting for my response.
Panicking at the accusation, I stumble, rushing my words out.
“No... I swear. I really… I mean… I don’t.”
God, Elodie, stop talking.
This guy must think I am completely inept. Before continuing, I take a deep breath to steady myself. “This isn’t even real. I’m going to wake up and everything will be back to normal again. I just need to —”
“I believe you,” he says.
My words die in my mouth. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but it wasn’t that.
“I believe some unknown threat did not send you here. But I can’t be sure thatyouare not a threat. If you attempt to leave, just know I will find you.” It doesn’t feel like a warning, not in the way I think he means it to.
“I’ll be right back,” he adds, already turning to leave through the door. I sink onto the edge of the bed, my hands shaking now that I don’t have to pretend they aren’t.
What the hell is happening to me?
The nausea hits fast.
Barely making it to the bathroom before my stomach turns, I grip the edge of the sink as I retch, pulling my hair back with one hand and breathing hard when it’s over.
