'

The

Villian’s

Princess

abby Mccormick

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

THE VILLIAN’S PRINCESS. Copywrite © 2023 by Abby McCormick. All rights reserved. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.

First Edition: October 2023

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

DEDICATION

To every girl who falls for the villain.

How did my dashing prince become so dark?

-Theodora

THEODORA

Waking Up

IT SEEMED SO REAL. He held her in his arms, and in that fleeting moment, they were enveloped in beautiful harmony. His words professing his love for her resonated in her heart. Nothing could separate them in that dreamlike embrace.

But as she woke up in the cold, dark room, the stark contrast of the ambient green lights served as a harsh indicator that it wasn't true. It shattered the illusion of the symphony-like reality she had briefly experienced. This felt like the beginning and the end.

Where was the glow coming from? Not even torches lit the dark walls. The room she was in seemed forgotten.

She felt forgotten.

She moved her legs to the edge of the bed, pushing the gossamer canopy aside. But her legs didn’t want to reply. Wouldn’t listen to her.

“Ughh!”

Theodora fought to maintain her grip on the silk sheets, but they slipped from her grasp, offering no support as she tumbled down.

Her body crashed onto the unforgiving wooden floor, and a sharp crack echoed as her hip made impact. A splinter found its way into her palm, eliciting a painful whimper from her lips.

“Someone, please help me!” Theodora’s voice rang into the darkness, but no one came.

It was only then, her immobile legs beneath her, unable to keep going, that Theodora took in her surroundings.

The handcrafted, ornate wooden harp remained within view, sitting near the bed. However, her father’s wedding gift, delivered the day before, now lay concealed under layers of age-old dust, with ivy crawling up its once-beautiful frame. The entire stone wall behind it was enshrouded in thick vines.

In her mind, the harp's haunting melody played, filled with echoes of agony and suffering. The discordant emotions it evoked puzzled her.

The cracks she had barely ever noticed in her bedroom spread down the walls and the floor, small plants creeping through.

This must be a bad dream.

This couldn’t be the same room she had fallen asleep in. It was too strange. Unfamiliar.

Why had she fallen asleep anyway?

Hadn’t she felt as if she could live forever off endorphins when Gareth had said his vows and kissed her? Had she fallen asleep after a wonderful night of dancing and laughter? Had she even made it to their marriage bed before falling asleep?

She had carefully chosen the colors—soft pink, regal purple, and creamy white—for her sanctuary. Yet, everything now appeared draped in a dusty shade of grey. Even the once-dazzling diamond on her hand refused to sparkle, mirroring the gloom that enveloped her surroundings.

With sheer determination, she attempted to move her legs, slapping them gently with her hands. Despite the persistent pounding at the back of her head and the soreness that gripped her entire body, she pressed on, refusing to succumb to weakness.

"Gareth?" Her voice echoed in the deserted room, but there was no response. "Agatha?" She called for the chambermaid, yet no one came forth. "Cecilia?" Her lady-in-waiting remained silent, and the room seemed to hold only echoes of Theodora’s unanswered calls.

As she finally managed to rise to her feet, an eerie silence enveloped her, adding to her disoriented state. Her legs wobbled beneath her weight, and her heels ached even before she fully rested them on the floor.

Her once radiant but now yellowed wedding dress looked moth-eaten, its lace skirt losing its ethereal translucency.

A bad dream. It was all just a bad dream.

Her hand rose to touch her face, and she could still sense its familiar plumpness, but now it was marred by layers of dirt, intensifying her feelings of anguish. Frantically, she tried to clean her fingers by wiping them on her already soiled petticoat.

As she attempted to run her fingers through her hair, they became instantly entangled in a web of matted knots behind her head. She looked down, horrified at the few blonde strands that came loose upon release.

In dismay, she realized she couldn't possibly present herself to her new husband in her current state. Determined to find something suitable, she made her way to the closet.

Nonetheless, upon swinging open the cabinet, releasing a flurry of moths, it became painfully clear that every dress within appeared as filthy as the one she was wearing.

The claw foot tub was empty, scum growing up from the bottom, and bugs making themselves at home. She jolted backward at the sight.

This caused her to stumble over something on the floor. She caught herself, feeling as exhausted as if she ran across the castle. The canine remains as her feet brought tears springing to her eyes.

“Russell?” she cried. She dropped to the rug, the pile of bones pulling her toward it. “No!”

Her hand darted out to touch the mound, but she pulled back suddenly when it collapsed in on itself. Nausea swelled in her empty stomach, and she dry heaved on the moth-eaten rug.

The castle oozed with an unsettling aura, and the never-ending nightmare seemed to tighten its grip on her soul. With trembling hands, she clutched the little silver charm from Russell's collar, the eerie sensation of his bones sending shivers down her spine. The touch made her skin crawl, and she could no longer bear the presence of death that surrounded her.

Without a moment's hesitation, she darted out the door, desperate to escape the malevolence that lingered within those haunted walls. Her legs, weary from the unending dread, pushed her forward as fast as they could carry her, seeking safety from the horrors that lurked behind.

***

WITHIN THE CASTLE'S WALLS, a ghostly silence prevailed, where before it had always resonated with life. In their childhood, peals of laughter scattered the stones.

As Theodora matured, her musical prowess blossomed. The silky, dream-like glissando woven from her harp decorated the corridors more frequently.

Her fingers twitched.

In its stead, the stark contrast of muteness pressed painfully against her ears, throwing off her balance. She kept grabbing at the uneven walls. Even the echoes of her worn shoes on the stone seemed distant.

It dawned on her that she was holding her breath.

She kept anticipating life, but knowing deep down she was alone. Every door stood closed and locked, or when opened, revealed rooms that mirrored the emptiness and decay she found in her own. The sense of desolation was overpowering, as if the life that once thrived within this castle had long since vanished, leaving behind nothing but haunting echoes of the past.

"Please, anyone!" Her desperate plea echoed through the corridors, tears beginning to stream down her face as she pounded on the heavy doors.

Clutching Russell's tag tightly to her chest, she moved frantically from room to room, her heart beating in forte.

Her loneliness was suffocating.

The echoing scuffle at the end of the dimly lit hall seized her attention. "Wait!" she screamed, hitching her full skirt up as she rushed toward the source of the sound. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she pursued the elusive presence.

"Eeek!" a startled voice screeched, desperately attempting to slam the door shut. But Theodora was relentless, grabbing hold of it and yanking it back, refusing to let the figure escape into the shadows.

Summoning the last of her strength, she thrust the door open, revealing a small figure crouching on the other side, making them appear even smaller than they already were.

"A ghost!" the person screeched, revealing herself as a woman, standing a foot shorter than Theodora, though fully grown as evidenced by her chest. She wore the attire of a maid, but it was not clear why she was amidst the haunted halls. The filthy area knew no cleaning.

“Agatha?” Theodora asked.

“Agatha’s my mother,” responded the small woman. “How do you know her, phantom?”

“I’m no such thing. My name is Princess Theodora. I mean, Queen Theodora. Where is Gareth? My husband?”

The woman's eyes widened in horror, bulging out as she instinctively backed away in fear.

“Princess Theodora is dead. Princess Theodora is dead. Princess Theodora is dead,” she chanted, backing up quickly.

Theodora felt as if someone had thrown her into the frozen river. What was she saying? She was right there!

“I am not dead. Show me my husband!” she cried. She ran to the small lady and shook her shoulders. “Your princess demands it!”

The small lady let out a startled cry and hurriedly guided Theodora through a series of hidden passageways. Theodora could barely keep up. At last, they arrived at the maid's private quarters, a modest room with little extravagance.

Despite its simplicity, the room held a bath and clean clothes, which was a relief for Theodora. She expressed her gratitude for finding something in her size and free from the pervasive layer of dust that had tainted everything else.

Washing the thick layer of dirt from her skin required more time and energy than she felt she had, but Ruth refused to help her. That was the name of the maid who she came upon.

Ruth still believed her to be an apparition, praying and making signs of the cross, ignoring Theodora most of the time when she spoke.

“The soap, Ruth, the soap,” she said.

Ruth inched toward her. “Stay back,” she warned.

Theodora tried to suppress her anger.

“Just throw it in,” she said.

She had no time to waste. How much of her honeymoon had she already wasted? What had happened to her home while she was asleep?

Theodora shut her eyes as the water sloshed, the soap lodging into the bubbly water.

She grabbed the damp washrag and ran the soap against it. The bath water was murky, but at least it was releasing the grey-brown color from her skin.

When Theodora stepped out, a wave of fatigue swept over her, and she grasped at the tub as she fell. Ruth ran to help her.

“I thought you didn’t want to touch me?” Theodora asked shakily as Ruth threw a towel over her.

“You look a lot more alive after washing. But maybe I should get the doctor just in case.”

“No. Just Gareth. I need Gareth.”

She passed out in Ruth’s arms.

***

AS SHE STIRRED FROM her slumber, she found herself wearing the white dress she had chosen, rather than her wedding gown. The skirt hung short, perhaps full-length on Ruth, but only reaching Theodora's knees.

Her hair was damp, blonde locks cascading down her shoulders. It was Ruth who sat beside her, patiently untangling the knots from her hair as she woke.

"Ruth?" Theodora's voice quivered as she raised herself from another bed. The nightmare was recurring, haunting her like a relentless specter.

Vowing never to sleep in a bed again, she clung to the hope that staying awake might offer some escape from the torment she found herself in.

“I’m here, Darling,” Ruth said, taking her hand.

‘Except for some muscular dystrophy and severe bed sores, she’s as healthy as his majesty’s favorite Friesian.”

“How dare you compare her to a horse, get out, get out,” Ruth shoed the doctor.

When they were alone again, Ruth spoke quietly.

“Do you still want to see him?”

“Yes, just let me rest for a bit longer,” Theodora said. “Can you help me to an armchair?”

Ruth brought her over to the one in front of the fire. Theodora fell into slumber as soon as her head hit the high back.

GARETH

The Dread Sovereign

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW they’ve held out this long. I should have crushed them already,” Gareth told the aging man.

The silver serpent on his chest looked recently polished. It was a gift from Gareth while he still enjoyed the color. Now he only wore gold.

If the serpent bearer hadn’t imbibed the same life-preserving elixir as Gareth, he would likely have succumbed to the passage of time.

On occasion, Gareth yearned for Lord Cedric's demise, if only to escape the haunting memories evoked by his presence.

Yet, despite the passing years, Lord Cedric was still as healthy and cunning as ever. The perfect advisor. It could also be said that he had a knack for self-preservation.

The scent of formaldehyde would forever haunt Gareth’s memories from the night they imbibed the elixir crafted by the serpent bearer.

It was a risk, Gareth knew. But he had started taking risks at that time. Everything was either success or freedom from his failure.

And after all, Lord Cedric was a formidable potions master. He would probably not kill them. Gareth took it first, just to be sure.

Every now and again, he thought he caught a faint whiff of the pungent odor, reminding him of that moment. But then he began wondering if it was his mind playing tricks on him once more.

The smell of death was familiar to him, as the soothing scent of lavender once was. However, this familiar deathly aroma wasn't the preserved kind, like that found in the potion.

He barely noticed the earthy smell anymore. It was almost- natural. On the battlefield, he preferred a more menacing approach. The stench of decay heralding his advancing army.

But Gareth would drink that putrid potion again if it meant another chance. Another day, another month to figure out how to wake her.

He just needed more time.

But then he had days where he wished he hadn’t drunk the contents of that vial. Those were the days that he wished Lord Cedric was dead too. Life was a disease, full of pain and suffering.

And all he had done was prolong it.

Disgusted with his thoughts, Gareth threw the letter into the fire that blazed before him. The past was done with. He had a kingdom to watch over and another to tear apart.

Lord Cedric bowed low, looking wearily beside him at the skeletons barricading the doors.

They were still, not even finding a need to breathe since they had no lungs. They were the perfect disciples for The Dread Sovereign.

The dead could not betray him.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing, my king.”

“You seem perturbed. If I recall, you were the one to introduced me to the Dark Arts, Cedric.”

“Yes, yes. It is just a testament to your power, your majesty. I never expected you to reach such heights.”

“I don’t think that’s much of a compliment.”

“It very much was, My King. No one can compare to you, not in the seven realms. Your power is renowned.”

“Mmm.”

People feared death. What he feared was neither life nor death.

It was that limbo in between.

“Can I ask you something, sire? With all this power, why have you not yet claimed your position as Emperor? Is that not your goal?”

“I think you’re getting us confused, Cedric. That was always your goal.”

“Excuse me, sire.”

“You’re excused. Now, I think it’s time for you to leave.”

The ivory bones closed in on him before he had time to argue. They escorted him to the door, hollow echoes and metal swords clanging.

Cedric was too much of a talker.

Gareth was surprised he hadn’t killed the man already. He would be much better company without lips. But then he’d be even harder to look at.

Why did Gareth believe he would want to preserve that snake?

He walked back to his desk, turned his attention back to a map that lay unfurled on the mahogany.

Amethyst Isle, Springwood, and Lysandra—each of these kingdoms had rallied against Noria, Silverhaven's adversary. Thessalon too, but Lord Cedric’s home wasn’t much to boast about except for the shipping port. Very few good things came from Thessalon.

She was one of them.

Nevertheless, Prince Julian's defenses stood impregnable. The enchantments upon his walls were formidable, undoubtedly as potent as the spell he cast upon Gareth's princess bride.

Gareth wasn't entirely sure if the Prince of Noria was responsible for his woes, but he had plenty of reasons to place the blame on Julian.

THEODORA

Bitter Reunion

AS THEY WALKED DOWN the once-beautiful halls, a cold sweat trickled down Theodora's back, mirroring the chilling atmosphere that engulfed Silverhaven castle.

The vibrant colors had sallowed like cadavers, the gilded edges buried under a thick layer of dust, leaving behind a disturbing void that seemed to drain the blood from her heart.

The castle now lay eerily silent, devoid of any signs of life. Only the ivy crawling up the walls and invading the desolate space appeared to possess a semblance of vitality.

Seeking solace, Theodora clung to Ruth's hand, grateful for the comfort it provided amidst the desolation. As they sought Theodora's husband, a sense of trepidation crept over her.

"Here, take this," Ruth said, breaking the silence as she handed Theodora a dagger wrapped inside her garment.

The cold metal felt heavy in her grasp, a stark reminder of the danger that surrounded them. Theodora stared at the sharp object in her shaking hand. She felt so drained, and yet all she had done was sleep and bathe.

How long had she been asleep? Had Gareth noticed her absence? Why did everything appear so different, and why had Ruth believed her to be dead?

“Why would I need this?” she asked, her voice high.

Every nerve within her was on alert. Her skin prickled. The pale blonde hairs on her arms stood on end.

She clumsily nicked her finger, causing a drop of blood to form. Immediately, she brought it to her mouth, afraid to mar the white garment she borrowed.

Ruth didn’t answer.

Theodora noticed the way Ruth wiped her palms down her sides and bit her lip. She was more nervous than Theodora.

"Put it away," she urged. She looked around them vigilantly.

Theodora barely had time to tuck the offending weapon in the corset of her dress, careful to keep the point from attacking the curve of her hip, when large doors opened down the grand hallway.

There were soldiers. At least ten of them, in black armor with red plumes on their helmets, stark against the anemic halls.

Theodora couldn’t see their eyes.

“We’ll take her from here,” the one in front said, grabbing Theodora when he approached.

“Ahh,” she struggled, trying to release herself from his grasp. “I can walk myself.”

“I wasn’t asking,” the officer said.

She glanced at Ruth, who was already in custody, looking like a helpless child being led by these beasts. Theodora couldn't help but feel like a mere doll in their eyes.

The guards easily maneuvered the two women through the castle. Theodora couldn’t stop to gape as the changed landscape overwhelmed her.

Nothing was as she remembered.

Somehow, her memories were slightly clouded, as if she had drunk too much the night before. It was her wedding day, so perhaps she had.

"Your highness," the guard who had seized her stated, rapping firmly on the imposing ornate door before them.

Theodora panted, unsteady.

She had not recovered enough energy for the journey they had ventured. Her frayed nerves only compounded her exhaustion.

Her vision blurred.

"Bring them in," a voice commanded from within the chamber.

It bore no resemblance to Gareth's voice; instead, it held a darkness and menace that felt wholly unfamiliar. She did not want to enter the room with that voice.

She wheeled around unevenly looking for Ruth. She spotted her from the corner of her eye. She questioned if the small woman, pale as a sheet, wavered, or if it was Theodora.

The hands on her were iron.

The doors opened to a gaping blackness. The sound and light seemed to die in that hollow, as did the breath that escaped her.

A shiver raked her spine.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice an intruder on the premises?” the voice asked.

The pallid light from the hallway cast an eerie glow on his back, resembling a monstrous figure emerging from the shadows, poised to devour its defenseless quarry.

The silken black hair that graced his shoulders. The lean stature. The slender hands that crossed behind him. The silver wedding band on his finger.

“Gareth?”

He pivoted to meet her gaze, and a wave of horror washed over her. His eyes widened with shock. His sharp cheekbones were framed by a high cloak collar, and his black suit was adorned with gold thread that matched the King's pin on his breast. This man might have borne a resemblance to her Gareth, but the darkness in his gaze told her otherwise.

"Daisy?" he asked, his words escaping his chest as if he were gasping for air on the brink of drowning.

“Yes! It is me,” said Theodora, fighting the instinct to run away.

The interaction caught her sentry off guard and Theodora used the opportunity to tear herself free from his grasp.

She ran toward Gareth, throwing her arms around him. His body, though rigid, and thinner than ever, was the same as it had always been.

They were the same arms that had once cradled her tenderly. The same hard frame that had embraced her closely. The same fingertips that had gently caressed her face as they kissed.

Somewhere in there was the same man.

“My prince,” she whispered, closing her eyes against the tears that wrenched from her.

He did not move against her. She looked over his shoulder and her blood rand cold. Skeletons stood behind him.

What kind of dark magic was this?

Theodora dropped away from him as if scalded. He looked at her, bewildered. Then, in a sudden twist, anger contorted his features.

She stepped back with a yelp.

“You are not my wife.”

“Why are you saying that Gareth? Are you trying to hurt me? Of course, I’m your wife. Don’t you recognize me?”

“Take her away.”

Theodora's jaw fell agape in sheer astonishment. She was so taken aback that she didn't even resist the soldiers as they forcibly separated her from her prince, her king, her husband.

Her enemy.

***

IN A COLD AND DESOLATE prison cell, she slowly regained consciousness. Despite the bars that kept her in, it was not much different to the rest of the castle.

The chill in the air. The colorless walls. The thick layer of dust and dirt that coated her skin as she felt around, adjusting to the darkness.

It was no different than the rest.

The flickering light of a single torch in the corridor cast eerie shadows, revealing a grim sight—the skeletal remains of a long-forgotten companion on the other side of the chamber, accompanied by the haunting sound of mice gnawing at the bones.

She jumped, her own bones knocking against the stone behind her. At least hers were still inside her.

For now.

Theodora settled onto a meager pile of hay, seeking refuge from the bleak spectacle that surrounded her. Turning her back to the haunting scene, she huddled beneath a tattered old blanket, trying to shield her trembling body from the biting cold. However, the disconcerting cacophony of scratching and squeaking that pervaded the cell refused to be ignored.

The putrid smell of urine and fecal matter, mingled with the pervasive odors of mold and mildew, invaded her nostrils, assaulting her senses with a nauseating intensity. The air was tainted with the scent of decay, as if the very walls of the cell were rotting along with her hope.

Overwhelmed by despair, tears streamed down her cheeks as her body shook uncontrollably.

She should never have gone looking for Gareth.

In this somber place, she actually longed for the solace of sleep, a fleeting escape from the harsh reality that engulfed her.

Was it worse to be asleep or awake in this living nightmare?

GARETH

Truth and Deception

GARETH WATCHED HER THROUGH the bars. Her flaxen locks blended with the hay beneath her. Faint hints of purple tinged her eyelids, while her lashes lay delicately against her porcelain cheeks. Beneath the surface, he yearned to gaze into the palest blue eyes he had ever encountered.

She looked just like his Daisy. When she had first fallen under the curse.

But it could not be her.

He pivoted and marched down the prison corridor, the rhythmic reverberations of his boots resonating against the stone walls.

“What did you find?” he asked.

“Nothing, sire,” Lord Cedric said, appearing out of the shadows. “My informants have heard nothing of a spy in our midst. If I could just take a look-”

“No!” Gareth demanded.

He stopped at the bottom of a staircase. They had reached another door. Lord Cedric followed him through, and Gareth locked it behind them.

“No one is to go in there unless I say otherwise. Is that clear?”

“Of course, sire.”

“Take me to the other prisoner. I’d like a word.”

“Yes, of course, sire, right this way.”

***

THE LADY WAS SMALL, cowering in the corner of the room. Her mousy brown and unkept curls gave her the appearance of an old China doll, like his mother used to keep.

He hated his mother.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, of course, Your Majesty.”

“And what I am known for?”

She nodded quickly.

“And yet you brought that abomination in my home,” he said.

He stepped closer to her, his back to the locked dungeon door. This cell was not as cold or deep underground as the other. There was a small window at the top of the wall, though it would do little to tempt an escape.

The woman vehemently shook her head, collapsing abruptly at his feet. He stared down at her, unfeeling.

“I didn’t bring her here! I found her in the forbidden wing! I swear!”

She clenched the worn material of her maid’s outfit. And yet she had had a perfectly clean white dress for the lookalike.

How convenient.

“And pray tell, what were you doing in a corridor that has been barred for years?” he asked.

“I hear someone calling. I was just taking a shortcut through the castle. She accosted me!”

“A woman who looks precisely like her attacked you? And you conveniently cleaned her up and dressed her up like a little doll?

“Tell me about this plan you had to go to Noria. How much was that going to cost you? The price of sneaking a spy in perhaps?”

“No, never!”

“You made a mistake bringing her to me, Ruth.”

She broke down in tears.

“I swear on my mother’s life, I did not such thing,” she cried. “She was already there! I didn’t want to help her. She kept asking for you.”

“You disgust me!” he yelled.

His rage got the better of him as he swiped her across the face with the back of his hand.

She landed against the side of the bed with a thump. Her small body fell in a lump. She was lucky he didn’t execute her on the spot and make her one of his army of the undead.

Her skeleton would be too short. Not a good fighter.

She was more valuable here, in a place where he could interrogate her, resort to force if necessary, and attempt to fathom why this woman had brought this wreckage upon him.

This wreckage that was going to destroy his life with the face of an angel.

THEODORA

Torn

“WHO SENT YOU, IMPOSTER?” Gareth asked her for the third time.

Theodora's heart wavered between joy at the sight of her former love and anguish at witnessing once more the darkness that had consumed him.

His intense loathing for her was palpable, visible even in the absence of light. It was as clear as day in the fiery intensity of his eyes, burning with animosity. Standing at the door to her cell, his arms folded across his chest, emanating an aura of disdain.

What had she done to earn such profound hatred from him? The weight of confusion and sorrow weighed heavily on her heart. What had changed since he professed his love for her, promising to cherish her forever?

She couldn’t remember much from their wedding night. It was a hazy grey fog that pervaded her senses. Even the orchestral waltz that accompanied their first dance as husband and wife was distant, murky. What was the song?

She couldn’t remember.

She couldn’t recall much of anything from that night. Had she angered him? Had he been the reason she woke up alone? Had he hurt her?

No.

He had loved her.

She remembered that much.

The stark contrast between then and now left her grappling with unanswered questions, yearning for the lost love and the promises that seemed to have vanished into the abyss along with everything else.

Her hand involuntarily tightened around the dagger that Ruth had given her, a stark reminder of the danger she faced. It pressed against her trembling stomach, her anxiety mirroring the rumbling turmoil within her.

At least the guards were feeding and watering her. Barely. She had hidden a chunk of bread in her dress, afraid they would forget she was down here.

She glanced at the dead man’s bones in the shadows of her cell, another tear threatening to escape. Who had he been? What had been his crime?

Was she next?

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” he yelled at her.

A sob escaped her as she shook, casting a fearful glance toward him, afraid of further provoking his anger.

It brought her back to her childhood.

It was so much worse that it was him. Why could he not be a stranger?

Why did he have to be the man she loved?

“You’re lucky it’s not moving,” he said coldly, looking over at the skeleton. “Imagine staring into the empty hollows where it’s eyes had once been as it chokes the life out of you, waiting for you to join it.”

“You can- make it do that?”

His face hardened. His eyes locked onto hers.

“Tell me who sent you and I will release you.”

“No one sent me,” she said quietly.

“Do you want to die in here? I know one of my enemies must have known about Theodora. They want to get under my skin. Make me weak. Just tell me who you work for, and I will not only set you free, but give you riches beyond your greatest desire.”

“I only wanted to be united with you,” she said weakly. “No one sent me. This is my home.”

He growled and slammed his arm into the metal bars, a reverberation echoing through her weary bones.

"I promise, you won't eat until you answer me," he declared, turning away with a steel resolve.

The door crashed closed, trapping her in the chilly, barren cell. Tears streamed down her face.

Grateful for her foresight, she clung to the precious chunk of bread she had kept hidden, realizing it might be her only sustenance until she found a way to break free from this torment.

Maybe she should turn the knife on herself.

***

“YOU LOOK JUST LIKE HER,” he said.

His voice jolted her awake. She was so tired. It was hard to keep her eyes open. How long had she been there?

Days?

Weeks?

A lifetime.

He stroked her arm, looking down at her. He sat on the edge of her pile of hay. It wasn’t that bad really. The hay. His hand. It warmed her slightly. She could almost forget her pain.

It would be so much easier to keep her eyes closed, accept the blackness. Tell herself she was dreaming.

Lying on her side, she felt the uncomfortable weight of the dagger pressing against her body, jolting her back to reality.

Regret gnawed at her. She wished she had attempted to wield it when he last visited, wished she had fought for her freedom.

But part of her still loved him, wanted to forgive him. Even if it killed her.

It was too late now.

She found herself drained of both energy and hope. Even as he stroked her arm, she could do nothing but lay there, whether she wanted to or not.

She had succumbed to her fate, alone in a bed, in every way that mattered, sores covering her body, and misery overwhelming her, trapped in this nightmarish reality.

“You look just like my Daisy. Even smell like her under the dirt and grime. But you can’t be her because she is upstairs. And someone wanted her to sleep forever.”

His hand stopped, removing itself from her skin.

She didn’t know if he left or not, only that the darkness welcomed her back with open arms.

***

THE CHILL HAD RECEDED. She snuggled deeper, finding solace in the cocoon of softness that now surrounded her. The hay beneath her felt different, no longer prickling against her skin.

Instead, it cradled her like a gentle embrace, offering an unexpected comfort. The air carried a familiar scent that stirred her senses—a tantalizing aroma of food.

Theodora moaned and tried to pull herself up. The cramping in her stomach had come back at the smell. She wanted to draw closer to it, but her body refused.

Suddenly, hands reached out to grab her, and she emitted a small squeak, akin to the mice that tormented her in the dungeons. The urge to cry overwhelmed her, but only a dry sob escaped her parched throat.

“Here,” a voice spoke gently, holding a glass to her parched lips. Cool, silky water cascaded down, offering a soothing relief to the persistent ache in her throat.

“That’s enough. You’ll be sick if you drink too much.”

She finally opened her eyes, the light blinding her. Was she still in the dungeons?

Amidst the torches that cast flickering shadows on the dark walls, candelabras adorned the room, offering a soft, warm glow.

She found herself lying amidst luxurious silks that caressed her velvet-adorned body. She vaguely recalled the white dress she had once feared would be stained with her own blood from the dagger’s cut.

She laughed inwardly at the irony.

Someone had redressed her. Was it Gareth? It seemed like a disturbing twist of fate that the first time he would see her naked was after almost killing her.

But was it really anything to be naked before someone after being so close to death? Yet, the thought of asking him made her blush.

“Where am I?” she rasped, disoriented.

“You’re in my bed chamber,” Gareth’s voice said.

Not the bed. Not again.

She lolled her head in his direction, her hair splaying across the pillow. He was wearing his black regalia again.

He was beautiful and deadly.

“Why?”

Why did she not die? Why did he bring her here? Why was she again in a bed of nightmares, recurring over and over again?

“Because I think you are my wife,” he said quietly.

She couldn’t believe her ears.

“Why do you say this now? What did I do to change your mind?”

“I finally ventured into the forbidden wing. You were not there. And I found this on your body when I carried you to my chambers.”

He presented Russell's heart shaped tag and the dagger she had been given, both seemingly insignificant in the grand scheme of her predicament.

The blade had done little to protect her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and defenseless. Tentatively, she reached out for the tag, and he handed over both objects.

Placing the offending dagger on the bedside table, she clung tightly to the small piece of silver, finding a sense of comfort in its familiarity.

Gareth’s questioning gaze met hers as he pointedly looked at the knife. It was evident that he held no fear of her using it against him.

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise that she hadn't attempted to wield the blade against him; she sensed that the outcome would have been futile and possibly led to a darker fate. Although what was darker than what she has endured?

Being turned into a reanimated soulless skeleton.

“Why did you not try to kill me?” he finally asked.

She sighed.

“I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”

“Does it matter?”

He wouldn’t understand. Every positive emotion seemed drained from him. He had no idea what love was anymore.

“It does.”

Why did he care?

“Where is Ruth?”

“Who?”

He didn’t even know the names of his captives. He probably didn’t even know the name of the man who’s cell she almost died in.

It didn’t matter to him.

“The small lady I was with. Where is she?”

“She is… recovering.”

Her blood ran cold. She swayed, taking measured breaths to prevent hyperventilating.

“What did you do to her?”

“Interrogation.”

What kind of demon was he?

“Is she alright?” Somehow, the small bit of water she drank allowed tears to escape her once again. “Is she going to be alright? This is all my fault! I should never have asked her to help me find you. I wish I had never found you. I wish I had never woken up!”

Theodora flung herself wildly from the confines of the bed, her heart beating out of her chest. The sheets tried to ensnare her, and she let out a yelp of frustration.

Gareth reached out to catch her as she crumpled to the floor. Her head swam.

She slumped against him.

“I’ll bring her here,” he said, picking her up effortlessly and putting her back in the bed. “You’re in no shape to be walking around the castle.”

“I have to go,” Theodora said breathily, her vision hazy. “If there’s any goodness left in you, Gare, please let me go.”

“Alright. In the morning. For now, you need to eat and rest.”

He brought her a tray of broth while she leaned against the headboard, gradually regaining her composure.

“Promise?” she asked, ignoring the divine soup to look in his eyes.

She barely recognized them.

“Yes. Now eat,” he said, bringing a spoonful to her mouth. He was trying to fix the damage he had done.

She let him, though she knew he never could.

GARETH

The Sound of Silence

HE WATCHED HER. She stared off into space. It was like she was sleeping while awake.

She requested to be moved from the bed.

He didn’t ask why. He assumed she would appreciate the clean, smooth silk sheets and the warm, fluffy blankets. But her shriek upon touching one of the wolf pelts told him a different story.

He moved her to an armchair.

It was the only thing of color in the room. Its crimson velvet matched the nightclothes he chose for her. At least it would be soft.

Anything would be soft compared to hay.

Perhaps, she was weary of being in his inner sanctum, of being so close to him. After everything he had done to her. After almost starving her to death.

His wife.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, but he couldn’t speak. He didn’t know what to say. How to tell her.

How to explain to her that everything in his life had no meaning after she fell to the curse. How he wished more than anything that it had been him.

Not for a reason so selfless as his own willingness to take on her pain. No, nothing as noble as that. No. It was because he did not want to watch her struggle every day under the curse, unable to fight it. Unable to wake up.

Because he was selfish. And it hurt him to witness.

At some point, he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t smile. That was when he closed down the wing.

His heart was nothing but scar tissue anymore. It had been too hurt. Too damaged. He doubted whether she would recognize it anymore.

He raised to hand to run his hand through his hair.

She flinched.

She had never flinched before, not to him.

“I’m not going to hurt you, anymore, Daisy. I promise.”

She didn’t reply.

Didn’t even acknowledge that she heard him.

“Are you tired?” he asked her.

He was tired.

“No,” she lied.

She didn’t even turn to look at him, just kept staring off into space, but he could see from across the room the circles under her eyes, the drained look on her face.

He saw that face in the mirror.

He rang a bell on the table next to Theodora. A female servant entered the room a moment later.

“Tea and honey. And a piece of chocolate,” he instructed.

The girl left them.

“You remembered.”

“Yes.”

“And the tea?”

“To help you sleep.”

“I said I’m not tired.”

“I know.”

It wasn’t long after the items were brought in, and Theodora had savored her chocolate and drank her tea in silence.

Gareth looked over again.

She was fast asleep, her head cocked back against the crook of the red velvet armchair, her blonde hair cascading over the edges of her matching negligee.

He hadn’t been in the room when his maids had changed her. He was afraid to see any evidence of the pain he caused her.

Getting up, Gareth brought over one of the blankets from the bed, avoiding the wolf pelt. Maybe it reminded her of her Afghan hound.

Did she remember him giving her that dog on her birthday?

He remembered.

The crystal of her blue eyes shining tears of pearls as she enveloped him in a hug, thanking him.

He wanted to give her everything.

Thinking about it, he understood how the pelt could have bothered her.

He knew what it felt like for him to be reminded of Theodora, after she was gone. It was like being stabbed with a serrated blade. It stung and ripped his soul and took a long time to heal over.

He laid a knitted blanket across Theodora’s lap, careful not to wake her. She was so beautiful. As beautiful as the day she married him.

The day he lost her.

She wore her white dress, exposing tantalizing cleavage behind handstitched lace that he had imported just for her. Her lips were the only color against her pale skin. They were a worn red, from where he’d kissed her.

Casting one final glance her way, he extinguished the sconces and proceeded to his own bed. Typically, sleep eluded him as well, but tonight, he felt as though he could slumber for a century.

He felt like he’d been living a nightmare for as long.

THEODORA

Requiem For a Dream

SCREAMS FILLED HER EARS. They were hers. She tried to lash out, but she was stuck, trapped in a body that refused to listen to her.

It felt like drowning.

“Wake up, Daisy, wake up.”

The voice was far away, but at least they saw her. They were aware. She was not alone.

“Please, please don’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you Daisy.”

Finally, she did wake up. Her vision was red, even when she did open her eyes, until slowly it dulled to the muted tones that she was growing accustomed to.

Gareth was kneeling before her.

Her heaving breath caught in her chest as she looked down on him. Her skin prickled where his hand held her arm.

Slowly, he pulled away.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

The pale moon illuminated his translucent skin. The worry in his eyes seemed sincere. She was afraid she would fall in.

“I’m alright,” she breathed. “I just don’t want to go back to sleep.”

“I’ll stay with you.”

He walked away for a moment and came back, dragging the chair over from his desk. It was worn, frayed, exhausted.

She glanced at the bed. The sheets were crisp.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” Theodora said, wiping the sweat from her brow.

At least she was able to wake up this time.

Maybe the nightmare was real.

And everything before was only a dream. Everything beautiful and wonderful in her life before her long sleep. Everything Gareth had been.

“You’re no burden,” he said.

And maybe one day he would love her as he had in that dream.

He sat in his chair across from hers and pulled a book out of his back pocket.

Had he slept at all?

***

Gareth was true to his word. He stayed up with her all night until the bright yellow sun radiated on his features. He almost looked healthy.

It reminded her of the time they had snuck away on a dinghy boat in the middle of the night with only the silver stars to guide them.

She wasn’t afraid of anything when she was with Gareth.

He almost didn’t believe that she could do it, until she reminded him where she was from. She was named after Thessalon, the island of mariners.

Her mother named her.

“These waters are a lot colder than what you’re probably used to,” Gareth had told her as they hastily untied the ship.

Theodora looked up at the cold mountains disappearing into the sky. They were a lot like Gareth.

Cold. Stoic. Beautiful.

And somehow, they made her feel at home.

“Better steer clear of those rocks,” he said.

“I know what I’m doing,” a young Theodora told him, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

They were in the straight between Silverhaven and Noria. Most sailors wouldn’t risk it at nighttime. Theodora wasn’t most.

“Look, there you are, on that ship,” Gareth teased, pointing to a mermaid sculpted onto the bow of another vessel. The wooden lady had long flowing hair covering her modesty and she looked to be holding a lyre harp. She was beautiful.

Theodora blushed.

Did he think she was beautiful?

They spent the whole night on the water, talking, joking, flirting. It was one of the best nights of Daisy’s life, and she guessed Gareth’s too. It was one of the first times they were well and truly alone.

They got caught in the morning.

By the king of Noria, no less, with his son, who was also their age. The king had taken his son out fishing when they came across the stolen boat. It was obvious it didn’t belong to the two kids.

But the king was older, and had a good sense of humor, so he took them back to Silverhaven and didn’t tell a soul. And they made a new friend after that.

Or at least, Daisy did.

GARETH

Zombie

GARETH COULD TELL Theodora wanted to talk to him, but he wasn’t sure what to say, how to let her back in. How to apologize for having failed her. So, he stayed silent.

And read his book.

The sun rose, and he watched out of the corner of his eyes as it laced through the strands of her hair until it appeared to be made of pure gold.

What bargain would he not have struck to have this golden maiden back in his life? What wrong would he not commit?

He had tried everything.

After the initial potion the Lord Cedric had made, Gareth tried a number more. When they failed, only causing him more strife, Gareth turned to something else.

The Dark Arts.

“This is dangerous, my king,” Lord Cedric had said, his voice echoing off the black dungeon walls. “Are you sure you want to learn?”

“Don’t back down now. You told me this could give me unimaginable power, did you not?” Gareth asked, rolling his sleeves up.

“I did.”

“Then bring him in,” Gareth said.

Lord Cedric pulled the wooden door open, the creak of the heavy iron hinges crying out. In walked a stooped being draped utterly in black.

Only its thin, bony hands were uncovered.

It looked like a skeleton.

Following behind the stranger, dragging along the floor, was a limp body.

A man.

Gareth swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat.

“What is that?” he asked.

“Practice,” said the lifeless voice of the teacher Lord Cedric had procured. “Don’t worry. He will be dead soon. And then you will make him rise.”

***

THE MEMORIES BURNED against Gareth’s eyes so boldly that he could barely see Theodora before him anymore.

Not the silkiness of her pale skin. Not the hint of rouge in her cheeks. Not the pout of her lips.

All he saw were dead bodies.

Reanimated dead bodies.

Were they here in the room?

He jumped up.

The rotting odor filled his nose. He covered his mouth. His other hand shook.

Dark magic started rolling off him in waves.

Rolling toward Theodora.

It crept along the edge of the chair legs, curling up the sides, begging for purchase. It escaped him like a parasite, eager to devour.

No.

The clouds dissipated. He came to his senses.

Theodora was in front of him once again.

Silently, she slept.

He drew closer.

Touched his fingers to her delicate throat.

Her heartbeat thumped against his touch.

She was alive.

Not a zombie. Not a skeleton. Not a body.

Alive.

He backed away before she noticed his unease, falling back in his chair.

He wasn’t sure when he fell in love with Theodora; he had succumbed before he could remember.

She was a dream.

Her father had played a part, prancing her around in front of him. Promising great things, happiness, family; enticing him with her music like a siren.

He  hadn’t known how right he had been all those years ago when he compared her to that mermaid on the ship.

Theodora didn’t know.

She was too innocent. Too well meaning. And she wasn’t a very good actress.

She had voluntarily given her heart to him, and he greedily took it.

Maybe that was his problem.

He always wanted what he couldn’t have.

That’s what his mother always said.

But now it was too late for him. He was too far gone for her to love again.

Too different.

Could he change? Or was too much of his soul blackened? Did he even want to change for her?

He didn’t need to ask himself that question.

He would do anything for Daisy.

Corrupt his soul or seek redemption.

Good or evil, Daisy needed someone strong. Someone to take care of her. Someone to avenge her. Someone to destroy whatever force was trying to hurt her.

There must be something he missed.

Whoever did this to her was not going to let her go.

But neither was he.

***

BREAKFAST WAS BROUGHT IN and Gareth was glad of the distraction. He rubbed my neck and sipped his coffee, finally putting down the book.

“What are you reading?” Theodora asked.

“It’s a history of trade between the Seven Kingdoms. No doubt you would find it tedious.”

She scoffed as if she disagreed.

He felt the corner of his mouth raise in a smile. He got up and handed her the book. When her hands wrapped around it, he inhaled deeply, imagining her hands on him instead.

He banished the thought.

She read a few pages in silence while eating her biscuit with jam. He simply drank his black coffee and watched.

“It’s good to know this place isn’t completely changed,” she said. “The halls are dusty, the bedrooms are disgraceful, but at least you have literature and good food.”

“Since when have you liked to read?” he asked. He wasn’t sure what made it come out so cruelly, but he regretted it instantly when he saw the look on her face.

“Since I’ve been cycling through my own brand of horrors every time my eyes close,” she replied.

She thumped the book back into his outstretched hands.

Apparently, her soul was tormented too.

THEODORA

Monster

“RUTH?” THEODORA ASKED, moving the woman’s hair away from her purple eye. She did not wake. Daisy moved her lips to Ruth’s forehead and kissed it.

She could never love him again.

Not after seeing what Gareth did to her friend. She tried to ignore his imposing presence behind her.

“You should let her rest,” the King said.

He had one hand around her securely. It was different than all the times he had held her late at night kissing beneath the stars.

This time, he only cared for her physical wellbeing, not her affection. She had barely made it to the medical wing, stopping many times along the way. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and her body was still sore. She was surprised at her ability to get as far as she did.

It dawned on her that, buried deep within Gareth, there must still be a fragment of emotion. Why else would he hesitate to risk her safety if she were to collapse?

Perhaps he repented from almost seeing her to her death. But this knowledge did little to assuage her disgust for him.

How did her dashing prince become so dark?

She moved away from Ruth regretfully, the sting of antiseptic infiltrating her nose. Daisy felt that she, not Ruth, should still be in need of healing. Glancing back at her, unsatisfied, Daisy adjusted the blanket that draped over Ruth.

Why did she seek help? All she did was pull Ruth into her nightmare.

The blanket brought her back to that very morning, when the sun had started itching across the sky, bleeding pale light into the windows, and begging Theodora to wake.

When Theodora had wrenched open her eyes and stumbled out of the chair, a blanket had lay pooled on the carpet beneath her bare feet. She had stepped on it by accident, the plush material soft against her dry, cracked skin. Had Gareth put it there? Did it matter?

His own bed was empty, untouched.

He had entered silently from the bathroom without words and brought her to the hospital wing. At least he was fulfilling his promise.

Pulling out the silver tag from the pocket of her velvet robe, she placed it on the bedside table next to a bottle. The handwriting scrolled on the label was familiar.

It brought a chill down her spine.

She let Gareth lead her away. Maybe when Ruth woke up and saw the tag, she would know someone cared about her.

Sometimes, that’s all you could ask for.

The narrow, winding stairs were the hardest part of the journey, Theodora’s balance threatening to escape her on each step. She swallowed hard after a near tumble, leaning back against the curving stone, breathing heavily.

The steep decline threatened her. She imagined all the ways her body would contort when it finally folded into a pretzel at the bottom. Her neck broken, her spine shattered. Unable to get up.

Perishing instantly, or even worse, slowly.

She shouldn’t be so scared to die, not after being an inch from meeting her maker in that dungeon. At least someone would find her here.

Gareth would find her.

Before she had time to catch her breath, though, he picked her up and secured her in his arms. He was lean and strong. His breath was surprisingly warm against her face, despite his cold demeanor.

She recalled him stroking her arm while she was half awake and half dead in the dungeon. It stirred feelings in her that she would rather have forgotten. All she could do was stare at the gold King pin as he carried her off without question.

Silver was a better color for him.

Images of a life stolen from her pervaded her mind. A life with Gareth. Their children chasing each other in the gardens while Daisy played her harp. Perhaps, the one she’d gotten from her father for her wedding. It was still in her room.

Would Gareth ever set foot in there again?

She closed her eyes and leaned into the man she hated. She was glad he said nothing. She didn’t want him destroying the fairytale she built up in her head.

***

AS THEY DREW CLOSER to the King’s quarters, Theodora finally came back to reality and looked out the arched windows.

How could it be so dark? The sepia sky threatened to open up with a storm. So few trees stood surrounding the landscape. The blue and purple flowers were gone. Everything was ashen.

“Gareth, how long have I been asleep?” she finally asked, voicing the nagging concern at the back of her mind.

“Fifteen years.”

She gasped.

Her head spun.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Certainly, several years. Too much was different. But fifteen? She had only been seventeen when she fell asleep. That would make her thirty-two!

“But you don’t look any older,” she said, touching his face. He immediately turned away. She jerked her hand back, afraid of making him drop her.

“I’m sorry,” she said. She paused, “You used to like it when I touched you.”

“That was a long time ago,” he responded.

“What happened?”

“You were cursed,” he said in staccato.

“By whom? How? How did I wake up?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” he said. he sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to this.”

“Talking?”

“Talking to the wife I thought was dead. You’re like a ghost,” he whispered.

“Sometimes I think I am too.”

***

THE BATH WATER was warm. It was actually quite hot, but it felt nice against her sore muscles. Theodora felt as if she hadn’t moved in- fifteen years. She shuddered.

“Is it too hot?” the maid asked.

Her name was Caroline. Theodora remembered it because she had a maternal grandmother named Caroline. She never met her, but her mother had spoken about her. Before she died.

“No, it’s perfect, thank you. I’m getting quite fatigued though, can you get my robe?”

“Of course, my Queen.”

She was still getting used to being called Queen. She was only a princess what felt like days ago but also centuries.

Just as the young blonde exited the room behind her, a figure appeared at the door, casting a shadow over Daisy.

The door locked, but she thought nothing of it. She was about to get out of the bath naked, after all. It made sense for Caroline to lock the door behind them.

It was actually quite courteous.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted Gareth to see her naked again anytime soon.

“You’re so fast,” Daisy said, starting to lift herself from the water. She almost slipped, grabbing the side quickly. “Will you help me, Caroline?”

Before Theodora knew what was happening, a hand thrust itself in her hair and shoved her head under the water.

Her body slid against the porcelain, and her nose and ears filled with water. She had barely enough time to close her mouth, but she only held half a breath in her lungs.

Struggling to free herself from the restraining hand, she scratched and clawed unsuccessfully. She attempted to open her stinging eyes under the soapy water, but all she could discern was a shadowy figure draped in black.

Was that the last thing she would see?

Her weak body fought against the intruder, thrashing in vain. Her heart fluttered, threatening to give out under the pressure, her head pounding from lack of oxygen.

She had just returned to life, and her requiem was already playing.

Slowly, she gave in.

Her only thought was that she wouldn’t see Gareth before she died. Someone had to forgive him for what he’d done.

Just as her eyes closed, the water becoming calm, another figure appeared in the waves.

Was it another sea monster?

GARETH

Far Behind

DARK MAGIC BURNED against his palms as he thrust his arms into the water and retrieved his wife. He pulled her naked, drenched body from the tub and held her tight against him.

She was breathing.

That was all he could hope for.

He glanced up just as the assassin leapt out of an open window. With a swift motion, he raised his hand and unleashed waves of dark magic in the direction of the fleeing intruder.

Stone crumbled, and glass windows shattered into grains of sand in response to the devastating power he wielded.

It was too late; they had vanished.

But he still had time to save Theodora.

With her body hanging limply against him, he rushed to the bedroom and gently placed her on the carpet.

Her eyes were shut, her form lifeless. Pressing on her chest, he worked to expel the water that had filled her lungs.

He couldn't bear to lose her again.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Water gushed from her bloodless lips as he continued to administer aid. Finally, he pulled her close, her drenched form already having soaked through his black regalia.

Breath returned to her lungs. A shuddered sigh escaped him. He vowed never again to leave her alone. He shouldn’t have in the first place, knowing that someone was after her.

The risk was too high.

Her life was too valuable.

He cradled her in his arms, the smell of her lavender hair filling his senses as her head lay limp against his shoulder. She should be waking, but her body was much too weak.

He kissed her wet hair, reveling in the knowledge that he couldn’t yet control her like all of his dead slaves. His life still had meaning.

He would avenge the wife this malicious stranger tried to steal from him.

Gareth did this to her.

And him.

They were all to blame.

Remembering Theodora’s unwillingness to sleep in the bed the night before, he took her to the familiar red velvet armchair, draping her body across it.

Clothing her again in the warm blanket, and then moving to watch her carefully from a worn desk chair far behind, Gareth continued to contemplate their doomed love.

Was he bound to lose her again? Was fate trying to rip her from him? Was he meant to live alone? A lifeless, miserable existence without his princess.

***

“GET ME THE BEST. One of my captains,” Gareth told Lord Cedric. “A female.”

“Certainly, my King. I know just who would be right for the job. But shouldn’t I-”

“No. I need more time with her.”

“Of course, sire. Excuse me. Would you like a report on Prince Julian and his armies while I’m here? They are away at Thessalon gathering supplies-”

“Not right now. You are excused,” Gareth said, cutting him off.

Bony figures advanced toward the door, and Lord Cedric's expression shifted to one of surprise.

“But, sire, now is the time to attack. They are weak without Prince Julian-”

“I said enough!” Gareth shouted.

Lord Cedric's hands shot to his throat, futilely grasping for air. His eyes bulged, and his face quickly turned a deep shade of purple.

Gareth watched with ambivalence.

After a pregnant pause, he slowly unclenched his fist, and as he did, a swirling cloud of black smoke billowed away from his advisor.

“Get out.”

Lord Cedric hurriedly made his way out of the room.

Gareth slumped back into his chair, and the skeleton guards followed after. They would go back to their resting place.

It took a lot out of Gareth to wield such dark magic, but he would hear no more. He had to secure Daisy’s safety over everything, even the kingdom. Nothing mattered more to him.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that Lord Cedric didn’t feel the same way.

THEODORA

Guarded Pursuits

“BE CAREFUL GETTING UP,” Gareth said to her.

Daisy opened her eyes. Her head was pounding. She was in her red velvet armchair again. She was starting to think the change in sleeping placement made no difference.

It was her.

She was going to die in her sleep someday and never wake up. Her hands shook. She looked down. Gareth was holding one of hers. Her wedding ring shone on her finger.

Had he cleaned it?

She breathed deeply through her nose.

Something smelled terrible, like decay, like her dungeon cell. Like the dead body that had accompanied her.

She looked over Gareth’s shoulder.

Skeletons.

It was true. He did control the dead. There were maybe ten possessed soldiers behind him with lifeless eyes. All of them were in some state of decay.

Some had no eyes.

“I’m sorry. They’re all I had on hand.”

“Why not give me human guards?” Theodora gasped, covering her mouth. Her stomach threatened to empty of anything still in it.

“Someone tried to assassinate you, Theodora,” Gareth growled. “I can’t trust anyone.”

Daisy wondered how long that had been true.

She watched the skeletons warily, trying to calm her stomach. They were silent. Motionless. Dead.

“How did you get this power?” she asked.

He declined to answer.

“I’m sure a human could do a better job. These… things will cut anything down most likely. What if they hurt Ruth while I visit her? And the smell alone. I will not be able to eat anything.”

“I will not have some red-blooded man near you, Daisy!”

She looked at him, dropping her free hand. He still held her other one.

“You’re my wife,” he ground out.

“Not your prisoner,” she responded sternly, pulling her hand free from his.

He flinched.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Gareth,” she said softly, searching his eyes.

“It’s not you I’m worried about.”

He looked away.

Was he thinking about Julian?

“That was a long time ago,” she said.

“Not for you,” he said icily.

True. It was only last week for her. Before a very long dream.

He sighed.

“I’ll get you a human guard. But a female.”

***

“YOU DON’T HAVE to follow me around, you know,” Theodora told the guard.

She was strong, serious, but most of all she was eerily quiet. If Theodora didn’t have dead bodies to compare her to, she would say she was as quiet as the grave.

Theodora didn’t really want to be alone, to be truthful, but being around this new guard, Stryx, was almost worse than being by herself. The unblinking way she watched Theodora sent shivers down her spine.

At least she had eyes.

“She does,” Gareth corrected from next to her. “Or I can bring in the skeletons. I thought this was preferable to you.”

“If there are no other options, I suppose.”

“There are not. I have meetings with some leaders, and I can't be with you constantly," Gareth explained.

“I wasn’t asking you to,” Daisy snapped. “Can I at least walk around? Now that I have a guard dog?”

“This guard dog is the only thing that stands between you and whoever is trying to kill you, girl,” said Stryx.

She crossed her arms over her black uniform, her epaulettes and right breast adorned with small medals and accolades. Blades hung from her hips.

Theodora looked at her but stayed silent.

“I have to go,” Gareth announced. He moved closer to Daisy so only she would hear. “Please don’t get murdered while I’m gone.”

***

THE CASTLE APPEARED vastly different from her recollection. Some of the shortcuts she used to explore as a child were now blocked off, while certain corridors had succumbed to rubble.

It was always Gareth’s kingdom, but she knew it better.

Regarding Stryx, Theodora felt helpless. Stryx trailed behind, her steps nearly silent as she stayed within Daisy's shadow.

At first, she wanted to visit her friend in the medical wing, but she wasn’t up for the  hike without Gareth to carry her back, and the thought of Stryx monitoring their interactions made her uneasy.

Another time.

For now, Theodora wandered to the kitchen. Maybe she could gather more chocolate so she wouldn’t have to ask Gareth to procure her anymore. She really didn’t want to ask him for anything.

He’d probably take away salt if he thought that would save her. At least he wasn’t sequestering her to her room.

The enticing scent of warm bread and butter wafted through the air, signaling their proximity to the kitchen. As they drew nearer, Theodora observed that the once grimy stone walls were gradually becoming cleaner.

She felt her shoulders relax.

Suddenly, a faint scuttling sound echoed behind them. Glancing to the side, she noticed Stryx swiftly drawing one of her gleaming daggers from its sheath.

“It’s just a cat.”

Theodora gestured to a stray that rubbed against her legs as they walked. The greyish skin blended so easily with its surroundings, she almost didn’t notice it.

“Harmless, see?”

She reached down and picked up the slim, hairless cat. She was thankful it had no fur.

It purred against her.

“The King will have my head if that thing gives you rabies. I should kill it.”

“No! Look, it’s already asleep. It just wanted some love.”

It was just like her.

Threadbare.

She held the cat against her chest, feeling the delicate rhythm of its heartbeat against its bony ribs. At least something was alive in this castle. She’d thought everything was dead by now.

Dead or asleep.

At least it was the latter.

“I hope this is quick, whatever it is you’re doing down here. We’re not supposed to be on this side of the castle. If the kitchen wasn’t down here, it would be off limits all together.”

“That’s right,” Theodora said, her face falling. How long had her body been abandoned? Alone? She shivered. “I forgot where we were. Come, I just want some snacks for later.”

“Afraid he’s going to lock you up again?”

Daisy stroked the cat and continued on, pretending she didn’t hear her.

GARETH

Secrets and Shadows

“I’LL SEND THE DEAD army tomorrow at midnight,” Gareth said.

Julian would pay.

The sly grin on Lord Cedric’s face was hard to miss. Gareth wasn’t sure who brought out the ill in the other. They were both corrupt.

“A wise decision, my King. They should not be back until the day after tomorrow, according to my sources.”

"I don't want Theodora to know. She has enough on her plate without adding this to her worries. They were quite close, her and Prince Julian."

He told him this, but Lord Cedric no doubt remembered.

“Of course, not, sire. I won’t breathe a word. Though I still have not seen her.”

“For the better, I assure you.”

“I trust your judgment completely, as always, Sire.”

Lord Cedric gave a small bow.

Gareth sneered.

Cedric consistently endeavored to gain Gareth's favor. Sometimes it irked him. He could sense that the serpent bearer held differing opinions but chose to remain silent.

Gareth would not have taken no for an answer, but that was the difference between the two men.

“She just needs some time to recover,” Gareth said.

He didn’t need to continue. It was completely unnecessary, But he spoke more to himself than to his advisor.

“And I need to find this Assassin. And figure out why they are trying to kill her.”

“Isn’t it obvious, my King?”

Gareth’s eyes turned to him with unmatched intensity. What could Cedric say that would give right to this wrong? What explanation could he give?

Your feelings for her are evident. They are trying to weaken you.”

“Yes, that is probably the case. But something just keeps bothering me.”

“And what is that?”

“How did she wake up?”

***

GARETH RESTED HIS HEAD in his hands, looking at the kingdom below. He was in the tallest keep, its vantage point unmatched for perspective. He watched the human guards march back and forth across the bridge.

They were not as strong as his skeleton army, but he didn’t have to wear himself out every time they patrolled either.

He recalled the first occasion he had visited this keep after Theodora succumbed to sleep. His world had turned upside down.

“What are you going to do?” Lord Cedric inquired. “Marry another?”

“How can you ask me that in the shadow of my wedding night? I couldn’t betray Theodora any more than I could stab myself in the heart. No. I will not remarry. I will cure her if it takes me a lifetime.”

And a decade and a half later, he still hadn’t broken the curse. He was no closer to finding out who had cursed her or why.

Nothing screamed murder weapon in the room. The pastel bedroom was exactly as Daisy had wanted it. He remembered watching her excitedly prance around and tell the interior decorator all her plans.

She was always happy.

Maybe that’s the reason he was so sad all the time. Every moment with her was joyous, exuberant, optimistic. When she was gone it was as if a black hole had been created where the bed once stood erected.

His soul disappeared into that black hole.

***

GARETH PULLED OUT THE BOX he swore he never would. In it was a letter from Theodora’s father. He sent it to Gareth on their wedding night.

That was the beginning of the end.

He had been alone then too.

But now, he was back in his quarters, and Theodora had not returned. At least, with Stryx, he felt some comfort that Daisy wasn’t dead.

So why did he torture himself?

The thick, fabric paper was rough against his callous hands. Hands that hurt people. Hands that murdered in cold blood.

Hands that Daisy probably didn’t want on her again.

But if he could not be her dark angel, who would protect her? Who would see to her revenge? Who would seek vengeance in her name?

All the years she had lost. All the nightmares she must have endured.

All the life they could have lived.

And yet. This stranger still endeavored to kill her.

How could they? Why?

Did they give up on cursing her to sleep forever, and decided she needed to go? Or maybe they wanted her to die all along and gave up when she slept.

She had been as good as dead.

But now that she was awake, the price on her head was raised.

Who would do such a thing?

He crumpled the letter in his hand. Looked down. Smoothed it back out.

Even if Julian wasn't directly involved in orchestrating Daisy's execution, he still bore responsibility.

And he would pay with his kingdom.

THEODORA

Midnight Meandering

“THAT CAT LIKES YOU,” said the butcher. “I’ve never seen it so docile around a stranger. It seems you’ve put a spell on it.”

Theodora smiled sadly. At least someone was getting some sleep. She continued petting the creature on her lap, it’s eyes closed.

“Does it belong to you?”

“No. It doesn’t belong to anyone. No family really. A stray. Would you like to take it with you?”

Theodora felt a pang in her heart.

She had a tendency to let displaced individuals attach themselves to her. Maybe that’s what was wrong with her.

She knew what it was like to be unloved.

“I’d better not.”

She placed the resting feline on the cold stone floor. It slowly opened its eyes, meowed, stretched, and then meandered away.

“Afraid your dark prince wouldn’t like it?”

“Are you not afraid of him?”

"I'm too old to fear anyone. In fact, I'm old enough to recall him running around the castle with you when your father left you unattended."

“I’m pretty sure my father knew exactly what we were up to. He always wanted Gareth for a son. I’m sorry. What was your name?”

“Gregory. I was quite a bit younger back then. Don’t feel bad.”

“I do feel bad. I apologize.”

"No matter, my Queen. The kitchen is always open to you. We have a tradition of baking cookies at midnight," his eyes twinkled as he handed her a chocolate chip cookie. “You might remember my wife, Bernadette.”

Daisy smiled.

“Thank you.”

“I’m just glad to see that you’re awake. Did you discover who bewitched you?”

“That is why I’m here,” said Stryx. She didn’t stop to look up from the apple she was peeling with her dagger. “It’s time to go, Rosie.”

“It’s Daisy,” Theodora corrected, sighing.

“It’s time to go, Buttercup.”

Theodora said her farewells to the kitchen staff, secretly promising to return the following day at midnight, if possible, for more sweet morsels.

GARETH

Conversations with Shadows

HE WASN’T SURE WHAT brought him back there. But it was after midnight and Gareth had wandered the castle, the moonlight leading the way through the cobwebs in the arched windows. And he had been led there, as if by magic.

Or conscience.

In the hospital wing, he looked down at his latest achievement: a tiny woman wrapped in gauze.

‘Her name is Ruth,’ a voice inside of him said. It sounded a lot like Daisy.

He eyed the wooden chair next to Ruth. But he couldn’t sit there. That chair was for friends. People who cared about her. Not the people who put her there.

“Came to see your handiwork?” a raspy voice asked, expressing his thoughts.

His eyes snapped to hers.

Ruth stared back at him, unrelenting. She was stronger than he thought. Stronger than most of his prisoners.

Or maybe he just went easy on her.

Tried to make it last.

He recalled the way she looked at him from the ground, pleading. She hadn’t really wanted to help Daisy. It made him want to punish her more.

But the fact remained- that she did.

“Have nothing to say?”

“I’m sorry.”

Ruth’s eyes widened.

“Suddenly you care?”

“I care because Theodora cares. That is all.”

“I don’t think that’s all. Why are you really here?”

They exchanged looks.

“I met her when I was ten,” he confessed. He glanced down at his hands.

How many people had he killed with those hands? How much dark magic was his heart filled with? He wasn’t like that when he met her.

Or was he?

Ruth stayed silent but motioned for him to sit. He remained standing.

“I never had a father. My mother was cruel. I loved spending time with Daisy. She had everything I wanted. She was everything I wanted.”

He wondered to himself, was it the chicken or the egg? Maybe Daisy was both. White and yellow and too good to be true.

“For the first time. I thought I was in love,” he said. “But I didn’t really know what love was until I lost her.”

The initial pain he went through, the pain Julian caused. It was almost nothing.

Nothing compared to what losing her felt like.

It was the quicksand of Amethyst Isle versus an icy cliff of Silverhaven.

There was no comparison.

Real love was pain.

And that was all he knew anymore.

Pain.

Maybe he and Ruth weren’t so different after all.

He pulled the chair back and sat down, hunching over as though the weight of his past pressed down on him.

“There was another boy. He was blonde. Charismatic. Perfect.”

He couldn’t stop himself.

Ruth didn’t need to know.

But he needed to tell someone.

Share his pain.

“I could never be him,” He admitted. “No matter how hard I tried. But when she chose me... I felt like I had won. Like it was some game. Like croquet. Or hunting even.

“But love isn’t a game. And ever since I got her back, all I’ve done is hurt her, Ruth. She almost died last night because I let it happen. I should have been with her.”

“Why aren’t you with her now?”

“I don’t think she can stand to be around me.”

“I can’t imagine why,” said Ruth coldly, turning her cheek on the pillow, facing away from him.

Gareth got up swiftly, moving toward her. She flinched and looked back at him with the same eyes he watched as he tortured her.

He would see them in his sleep.

Just another skeleton in his closet.

Gareth pulled something out of his pocket.

Unwrapping the handkerchief, he placed the item on Ruth's nightstand next to the silver tag that once belonged to Daisy’s pet.

It was a gleaming silver bell, adorned with an etched crown on the side.

“Thank you,” Gareth murmured, getting up.

He   retreated from the room without looking back to see her surprise.

THEODORA

Rekindling Ashes

THE FRAGILE SUNLIGHT PEAKED at her through the colorless stained-glass windows. A crow stared back at her, his wings prone for flight.

Theodora hadn’t slept a wink, though her eyes were tired, and her body ached. Gareth hadn’t come back yet.

“Where is he?” she thought aloud, though she spared herself the question of why she cared.

She looked at his overly worn desk chair, the threads pulling from the fabric, a perpetual sunken look invading it.

Maps and diagrams and lists covered the broad table. Plans, duties, destruction. It left no room for anything else.

The bed remained untouched.

Stryx was just outside the door. Daisy knew she could ask her to find Gareth, but she did not want to admit that she cared enough.

He wasn't the Gareth she once knew. She just had to remind herself that.

Theodora wandered the room, investigating the evidence of her former love’s divested soul. The raw edged curtain hanging over the bed haunted her like an open casket waiting to envelop her.

Taking up the dagger that Ruth had given her, Daisy approached the bed. Unreservedly, she slashed the red velvet curtains into bits, the sound tearing through the eerie silence of the room.

Yanking them from their wrought iron fencing, she pulled them into a pile on the floor. She wanted to scream at them. Stomp on them. Laugh at them maniacally.

But instead, she would burn them.

Dust protruded in clouds, causing Theodora to double over in coughing fits. Moving away, she threw down the dagger.

“Is everything alright in here?” Stryx asked, entering the room.

“Get me a bucket and scrub brush.”

Stryx looked at her skeptically and surveyed the room, the mammoth pile of curtains in a mound on the floor. She nodded and left briefly to call in a servant.

The fireplace was filled with ash and shrouded in soot. Theodora couldn’t stand it. If she intended to incinerate the curtains, she had to clean it first to prevent the fire from spreading.

She wasn’t tempted to see how many ways she could burn.

A maid brought in the cleaning supplies and Stryx watched from the doorway. Daisy set to work. Down on her knees, dirtying her silk nightgown, she scrubbed the black stone heartily.

When the fireplace was in slightly better shape, and she was able to start a safe fire, she gathered up bits of the heavy bed curtains and cast them into the inferno.

She would have thrown the entire bed in there if she could.

While she stood entranced by the sight of the flames licking the blood red material, a hand reached out and touched her shoulder from behind.

“Theodora.”

She whipped around.

Gareth’s eyes mirrored the bloodshot weariness she felt. The shadows on his gaunt face stood out against his pale skin, and his regalia bore the wrinkles of the previous day.

Her own nightgown was distressed, covered in soot and torn in a spot from where she accidentally sliced it with the dagger. Her hair was in disarray, her face unwashed.

What a pair they made.

“Didn’t like the curtains?” he asked.

They were so close. She could feel his breath against her skin, momentarily pushing away the loneliness, the fear.

“No.”

“You could have asked me to remove them.”

“I was bored.”

He looked out the window at the sun high in the sky now.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

Her body was overcome with the eerie sensation that he could see right through her. See her dreams. Her fears.

She felt naked before him.

She wanted to hate him for it, but it was the catalyst for her to fall in love with him. He had always been that way.

“Come here,” he told her. “I’ll give you a bath.”

Despite her reservations, she let him lead her by the hand to the adjacent bathroom. She warily eyed the clawfoot tub she had almost drowned in.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be right here. I won’t leave your side.”

He turned on the tap, warm water filling the porcelain. He poured some soap into the water, causing clouds of bubbles to start forming.

He assisted her in taking off the soiled nightgown, yet she averted her eyes as he did. Keeping hold of her hand, he guided her into the tub.

The warm water enveloped her, soothing her sore muscles and immediately relieving some of her stress. She sighed. First glancing at Gareth to make sure he was still there, she closed her eyes and leaned against the tub.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

GARETH

The Weight of a Restless Night

HE WATCHED THEODORA SLEEP, and his own eyes became weary. She was in her armchair again, draped in her blanket.

Her silken locks ran over the side.

Seated at his desk, he contemplated moving towards the bed. However, there were still matters he needed to attend to before his undead army invaded Noria.

Yet, he could certainly use some rest. It was a necessity, considering the formidable task of deploying a thousand undead soldiers.

The first time he learned the power, it had terrified him.

The blood was still dripping from his hands when his teacher told him to bring back the man Gareth had just murdered in cold blood.

“He’s under your control now. His soul has gone,” he told Gareth. “Now, lift your hand.”

The dead man on the ground twitched in a pool of blood.

Gareth had done that.

It didn’t matter that his teacher claimed the man was a criminal. He could have told Gareth anything. He had no way of knowing.

He lifted his hand higher.

With purpose.

The dead man rose.

His eyes unseeing.

Gareth would see his face every time he closed his eyes after that.

***

A KNOCK ON THE DOOR stirred him. Glancing out the window, he saw the sun beginning to set. It was time.

Daisy still slept.

Gareth hurried to the door, aiming to open it quietly so as not to disturb her. She needed rest.

“Tell Lord Cedric, I’ll be ready in a few minutes. I want you here at all times. Do not leave her. If something happens to her, expect me to be waiting.”

Stryx nodded and went back into position at the door.

***

HE WATCHED BENEATH THE light of the full moon, as the wall of dead skulked toward the growler. They latched on to the gigantic wooden mass, even as water flung at them, and the rungs of the water wheel knocked some of their bones off into the streaming river.

Still, they persisted.

Before long, a hundred fleshless beings swarmed the strong wooden monument, the weight causing deep croaking sounds to rise from the structure.

A resounding thump rang out in the night as the namesake of Noria was dislodged and rolled into the river, crashing amongst the rocks beneath.

Trumpets blared and torches lit on the castle of his enemy. Yelling sounded in the distance. Gareth pulled his sword from its sheath. He looked to Lord Cedric on his right.

“She’ll never forgive me.”

“She doesn’t have to.”

With that, the Dread Sovereign watched as his skeletal army started climbing the walls of Noria.

THEODORA

Broken Melodies

“HAVEN’T SEEN YOU in a bit,” Ruth said to her, as Theodora sat down next to her.

“I had a bit of a run-in with an assassin. So, I’ve had a ball and chain with me. Where did you get this?” Theodora asked, picking up the silver bell.

“Never mind that. Someone tried to kill you?” Ruth asked.

“It looks like someone tried to kill you too,” said Daisy, eyeing the gauze covering much of Ruth’s body.

“It looks much worse than it is,” she said, pulling the blanket up to cover more of her. “I received your gift.”

She showed Theodora the silver tag that she had tied to a string on her wrist. The little heart gleamed.

“I’m sorry I did this to you. I should have never made you bring me to him.”

“Maybe you can change him,” Ruth said.

“That’s impossible.”

“What are you going to do?”

Theodora stayed silent.

***

“HERE,” THE BUTCHER SAID as he handed Daisy a cookie. She took note of the way he looked over her shoulder. Stryx was over by the cheese wheel, carving off bits of it and chomping away.

She had a bit of a weakness toward simple delights. Just like Theodora. Only hers were sweet.

“I put aside some wine for you in the cellar,” the butcher said winking. “You should take a look.”

Theodora stared at him for a moment. Then she glanced at Stryx to still find her occupied, and then moved toward the underground room.

Something was off.

But the question was- was it good or bad?

She stepped towards the cellar, her lightweight slippers padding across the stone. Was it wine she was looking for? Or something else?

She descended the wooden staircase, disappearing further into the cellar.

Music filled her ears.

Soft, gentle. A lullaby.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew that melody. He would play it for her when they were little. He taught it to her.

Sometime during her sleep, she thought she heard it. Those were the good dreams.

A male figure stepped out of the shadows.

Julian.

“How?” she asked, moving toward him, her legs threatening to give out.

The handsome blonde man, half in shadow, engulfed her in a hug. He didn’t look a day older than when she last saw him. And his familiar cedar scent invaded her nostrils and soothed her to her core.

“I should be asking you that. You look horrible,” he said. “Beautiful, but horrible. I guess that’s what you get for being bedridden for a decade and a half.”

“How are you here?” asked Daisy, ignoring his comment.

She started to feel lightheaded, but Julian held her steadily.

“How did you know I was awake? I figured Gareth was keeping it a secret.”

“Your father.”

“I still haven’t seen him,” breathed Daisy. Julian was warm, hard against her body. Present.

“Do you want to?” Julian asked skeptically.

“No,” she admitted.

“How much do you know?” he asked, looking into her eyes. She couldn’t see the blue in his. It was too dark. But she knew it was there.

They were so much brighter than hers. So filled with life.

“I missed you,” she said, ignoring his question. Instead of being annoyed, he smiled warmly and pulled her toward him.

“I missed you too,” he said, whispering against her hair.

She shivered, a shaky breath escaping.

“He’s different. So different.”

“I think he’s always had this potential. It just tipped him over the edge losing you.”

He pulled back from Daisy and stooped down slightly to look her in the eye.

“He’s turned everyone against us. I’m using my connections here just to steal supplies. Your father’s making out like a bandit playing both sides.”

A grieved sound escaped her.

“Don’t be sad, Daisy. I won’t let my people suffer. There is still good in this world.”

He took her by the chin.

He brought his lips to hers.

Theodora stood dazed.

“I love you, Julian. But-”

“Come with me.”

“I can’t,” she said.

“Don’t you want someone to treat you right for once, Daisy?”

“Julian. I chose him. I love him. And one day he’ll remember how to love me too.”

“You can’t cure a rabid dog, Daisy. You can only put him out of his misery.”

“Julian!”

“Here take this.”

He handed her a weighty object. It was compact, making it relatively easy to discreetly slip into her pocket.

“A music box?” she asked.

“Yes. I remember how much you love your music.”

“Julian. The last time we talked-”

He covered her mouth gently with his hand.

“I know you don’t love me the way I love you, Daisy. But please keep it. I might not be around much longer. Let a man dream.”

“Alright,” she said, pocketing the music box.

It was too dark to see it properly. But against her fingers, she could feel the engravings. Feel the precious stone on the clasp.

The metallic finish caught the light from the top of the stairs. It was solid silver.

“I have to get back,” he said. “The butcher promised me an hour.” He slung a heavy burlap sack over his shoulder and gave Theodora a quick kiss on the cheek.

He disappeared through the back of the cellar before Theodora had pocketed the music box, stunned.

***

“ALRIGHT, HERE WE GO,” Stryx said as she hoisted Theodora in her armchair.

Daisy looked at her as her head lolled to the side.

“Wine?” she asked, holding out her hand. Stryx scoffed and handed it to her.

“You can’t get up the stairs, but you can get blasted successfully,” Stryx noted.

Daisy rolled her eyes.

“Haven’t you noticed the stairs move?”

“That’s you, not the stairs, Rosie.”

“You can’t possibly tell me you don’t know my name by now. I regret giving you those cookies.”

Stryx laughed and pulled up an armchair in front of Theodora, throwing herself down in it. She propped her legs on top of the side table.

“Yes, make yourself at home,” joked Theodora, taking a swing of her wine.

“Looks like you have,” Stryx commented, looking over her shoulders at the missing drapes and naked wrought iron surrounding the bed.

Theodora hummed indifferently and shrugged her shoulders.

“I get it, though,” said Stryx. “I slept on the floor for a year after entering the regiment. I was away for months on end, lucky to get a cot.”

Suddenly there was rapping at the door.

Stryx unsheathed a blade from her hip and headed for the door, casting a brief glance over her shoulder like an afterthought.

“Stay there,” she told Daisy sternly.

She nodded.

Stryx opened the door that reached into the dark hallway and disappeared. Daisy waited anxiously while she silently downed her wine. She felt the weight of her music box press against her pocket.

Perhaps she could admire it quickly while she was alone. She pulled out the silver object. It was as intricate as she had thought, with a diamond in the clasp.

There was a daisy emblazoned on the top.

She twisted the windup mechanism several turns and then held her breath when she released it. The familiar lullaby started playing, filling the hushed room with a gentle serenade.

“Where did you get that?” a voice asked.

Daisy glanced up, uncertain how much time had passed while she fixated on the small silver gift. Gareth loomed over her, disheveled and bloodied, his expression one of horror.

Stryx stood erect, hands behind her back, watching silently from behind.

All the blood rushed from Theodora’s face as she quickly tried to hide the music box. Gareth swiftly recovered and tore the item from her hands.

“Him?!” He bellowed.

Trembling like a leaf, Theodora hadn't seen him this furious since he believed she was an imposter, sent to impersonate his dead wife and destroy him.

His ravaging eyes moved to the gleaming object, turning it over in his hands, examining it. Daisy’s blood was cold. She felt entirely too sober to await his reaction.

Her eyes flickered toward Stryx, emotionless behind her king. Daisy would get no sympathy.

“You still think he is the one?” Gareth asked. “After all this time?”

“No,” she breathed. “It was only a gift, Gareth.”

“It is only a gift,” he derided.

He glanced at her briefly, fist tight around her gift, and hurled it against the wall, shattering it into bits.

"No!" Daisy screamed, her hands flying to cover her mouth in devastation.

She ran toward the scattered components of the mechanism littering the carpet. The smallest pieces sank into the rug, blending in, hiding from her view.

Tears slid down her eyes like sheets of icicles. The newfound silence bore down on her ears in a way it hadn’t before.

Gareth watched as she dug hopelessly into the thick layers, her fingernails clawing in vain. Even as she pulled out the pieces she realized- it was irreparable.

No more lullabies for her.

“How could you?” she choked, looking up at him.

“While Julian was here, sneaking around, trying to abscond with my wife, I was off destroying his kingdom. My dead army has grown significantly tonight.”

“No!” she screamed.

Choked cries wracked her body. She had distracted Julian inadvertently. And his people had suffered because of it.

“Rest assured the kitchen staff will be punished as well. They’ll be joining your friend upstairs. And soon, your lover Julian will too.”

Her body collapsed against the floor in a pool of sepia. The king strode toward her, his footsteps silent.

“Take her to her former room, Stryx. She doesn’t belong in mine.”

Stryx marched forward, grabbing Theodora by the arm of her grey dress. Her grip was tight, unforgiving.

“Let’s go,” Stryx said as she ripped Daisy from the ground, pulling her along.

GARETH

The King's Gambit

“THIS IS GOING TO CRIPPLE them,” Lord Cedric’s smug voice resonated in his ears.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Gareth responded.

Ingrained in his mind, he saw the dead men rise again. Just a thousand more to add to his collection, stored beneath the castle, waiting to be beckoned.

“You told me this power would heal her!”

Gareth’s memory replayed.

“I told you it would raise the dead,” his teacher responded. “She is not dead.”

“She is not. But you will be.”

Gareth locked him in a cell to die.

The same one he locked Daisy in.

They stood in front of his bedroom door. He knocked to notify Stryx that he wanted to speak to her alone.

“Go now. I don’t want Theodora catching sight of you.”

“I’ll have to see her at some point, my king,” said Lord Cedric. His tone was sharp, intolerable.

Fumes of black smoke started billowing from under Gareth’s robes. Lord Cedric’s eyes darted around them.

“She is mine. Or have you forgotten that, Lord Cedric?” Gareth asked.

He wanted to believe that, but the music box said otherwise. Perhaps if he convinced everyone else, he would believe it too.

It was starting to frost along the windows.

He stared at the white icicles forming, thinking about the winters Theodora spent in the castle with him.

Hot cocoa. Exchanging gifts. Watching Daisy dance in the snow and make snow angels. She made it his favorite time of year.

And the best part- he didn’t have to share her with Prince Julian.

“Has she asked to see me?” Lord Cedric questioned, pulling Gareth from his reverie.

“Did you expect she would?”

Stryx entered the hall, looking between the men. Lord Cedric barely spared a glance in her direction.

Alternatively, Gareth turned to her and then back to his advisor.

“Away,” he dismissed Lord Cedric.

A stagnant pause and he disappeared into the dark.

“Any problems?” Gareth asked.

“No, your majesty.”

“How is she?”

“Drunk.”

Gareth’s eyes tightened.

“I need to get her some help,” he said, more to himself than to Stryx.

“Do you want me to follow him, your majesty?” Stryx asked after a moment.

Gareth stayed silent in thought, looking down the empty hall. Then he sighed.

“No. He is like family.”

“Do you want me to leave you?”

He shook his head, his hand reaching for his neck, overwhelmed by exhaustion.

“Stay with Theodora for a bit longer. I want to bathe without worrying.”

They entered the bedroom and Gareth’s eyes immediately went to the gleaming music box in his wife’s hands.

***

THE SUN WAS ITCHING to come up when Gareth was finally able to rest his eyes.

He had been left with nothing but a horrible headache after ordering Stryx to take Theodora away. After everything he had done for her.

He had felt guilty for imprisoning her, not believing in her, torturing her friend. He felt responsible for Daisy’s inability to sleep. He felt responsible for her.

He had failed her.

He had turned her away.

And because of this, she had repaid him by seeking solace in his nemesis. Gareth would destroy Prince Julian if it was the last thing he did.

If it took every ounce of his soul to eviscerate his army.

Gareth could never be Julian.

But Julian would never have Theodora.

Gareth’s eyes drifted closed as he started formulating exactly how he was going to take down his enemy. He was suddenly feeling less guilty about razing Noria and stealing the dead.

Let Prince Julian discover the consequences of trying to take the Dread Sovereign's wife.

THEODORA

The Awakening

IN THE WRETCHED, filthy room where she had awakened days earlier, Theodora could do nothing but cry.

Her dead dog had been removed. That was all she had to be thankful for.

She paced back and forth across the room of nightmares struggling to breathe, until she found herself curled up on the floor on the same carpet where her companion’s bones had lay.

Dizziness and weariness pressed heavily on her body as she teetered in and out of consciousness. Occasionally, her eyes glimpsed the looming harp, a symbol of her union with Gareth.

And the prelude to her nightmare.

With renewed energy, she hurled the heavy instrument to the floor, shattering it into pieces, much like the curtains. Then, her vision blackened.

***

WHEN THEODORA WOKE AGAIN, she was surrounded by wooden splinters and harp strings, lying prone on the floor.

As she approached the previously locked door, astonishment overcame her to discover it wide open. Two guards stood outside, and Stryx was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” Daisy asked warily.

Neither guard answered her.

“I said where is Stryx,” she repeated.

“She was called for another matter,” a voice answered, approaching.

It was the guard who originally took her to the king. Took her to her jailer.

Her shoulders tightened.

“She thinks it was his majesty,” he said contemptuously. “This will only take a few minutes. By the time she realizes it was a lie, you’ll already be dead.”

Daisy froze.

The guard lunged at her, his black shape smothered her like a heatwave. His hands wrapped viciously around her neck, throwing her to the ground. Her cloud of skirts wove themselves around her legs.

Murder was in his adamantine gaze.

Daisy choked against his thick hands, his brutal strength. Spots started appearing before her eyes, washing the perimeters of her vision.

Suddenly, as his body pressed down on her, his grip released. He fell to the side. Daisy gasped from her position on the floor.

Looking over at him, she gulped down unbridled air. His eyes were closed, his body unmoving.

She looked toward the door just as the other two guards marched in, swords drawn.

Theodora sprang to her feet and darted for the door, slipping between them. One of the guards seized her hair, forcefully pulling her back.

She resisted, yanking free, but not without feeling a portion of her hair wrench away from her scalp. Pain blinded her.

The second guard clutched her bicep, and she struggled to pry his fingers loose. In moments, he crumpled to the ground, incapacitated.

Confusion enveloped her.

She screamed as his body fell against the ground, thudding hard against the stone floor of the hall. The other guard came closer, more tentatively.

“Stay back,” she said. “I don’t know what I did to them. But I will do it to you too. Stay back.”

He growled and strode toward her even as she continued backwards. She was nearing the stairs. She could not outrun him.

He reached toward her, but before she even touched him, he crumpled to the floor.

She gasped, throwing her hands to her mouth, looking around. The one before her, the one down the hall, the one in the bedroom.

What had she done to them?

Shaking uncontrollably, she struggled to catch her breath. She leaned down, careful to stay away from the hands of the nearest guard. His sword was a foot away.

She put her hand to his bare neck, the only part uncovered. He was breathing. Was he…

Asleep?

She ran to the other guard in the hallway. Finally, the one in the room.

All asleep.

How could that be?

The forsaken bed looked down on her, its moldy drapes withering in disuse. The pillow that had an eternal imprint of her head.

Her hands were shaking. She hadn’t even touched the last one. Just thought it.

Close your eyes. Just like them.

This was dark magic.

A spell, something. Whatever it was that put her to sleep for fifteen years, it must have seeped into her skin, eroding her, infiltrating her.

Until she was immune.

Until she could control it.

Whoever was behind her sleep was trying to murder her. This was the second attempt on her life. They even went as far as to trick Stryx into leaving her side.

They probably didn’t realize they gave her power to use against them.

When Gareth found out…

When he found out…

He would never let her out of his sight. Or that of a trusted guard. He would never forgive her for hiding her relationship with Julian. This was her only chance to escape him.

***

THEODORA RAN TO THE KITCHENS as quickly as she could to grab supplies. This was one time that she was glad to be so familiar with the castle.

It wasn’t home anymore.

But at least she could get what she needed to get away from her new nightmare.

The area was eerily quiet. No one was around, not even the hairless cat. She briefly wished that she had agreed to take him.

But it probably didn’t even like her.

It was just persuaded by her power.

Is that what she was to Gareth?

A susceptible figure attuned to his power. But not anymore. She had strengths of her own.

Gareth had already been in the kitchen, extracted his revenge. The silence was deadly. He had done exactly as he said he would.

Always believe people when they tell you who they are.

She would find Julian. He would take care of her. He would keep her safe from this crazed villain and the person who was trying to murder her.

***

HER FOOTSTEPS WERE SILENT as she hoarded provisions for the journey, depositing them into a sack no different from Julian's.

The road to Noria was just an hour away, but it could be treacherous. The last thing she needed was to be caught off guard and ill-prepared.

“Giving up?” a voice asked behind her.

She started, turned around.

“I tried to make it work, father.”

“I can see that,” he said appraisingly. “And that is why you have a bag of stolen goods in your hand.”

She remained silent, uncomfortable. She paused for a moment before grabbing a few apples off the counter, shoving them in the burlap.

“My king will not be pleased that you are attempting to escape.”

Theodora glanced angrily in his direction, first at his face, that should have been more aged than it was. He was probably imbibing a number of mysterious potions to keep himself that way.

Why couldn’t he, with all his knowledge, find something to cure Daisy from her poisoned sleep? Or was it not a priority to him?

Then, she looked toward the silver serpent on his chest. Lord Cedric had received that as a token from Gareth when the older man had given Theodora away.

A trophy. In exchange for his position as primary advisor to the king. A bargaining chip.

“He doesn’t love me anymore. I don’t love him.”

“I never asked you to. All I asked was that you stay away from Prince Julian. But you couldn’t, could you?”

Her father, Lord Cedric, moved in front of her, blocking her escape.

“I can’t let you go, Theodora.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

Lord Cedric moved toward her, with his hand pulled back. Before she could react, or communicate nonverbally for him to sleep, he whipped his hand against her face in a resounding slap.

Then he crumpled to the floor.

Her face stung, her hand capturing it. She stared down at him unapologetically. He would eventually wake up. But she would not be here when he did.

.

GARETH

A Fractured Castle

GARETH’S STOMACH SOURED at the thought of thrusting Daisy in their old bedroom. Everything about it screamed lifelessness. It was a cruel torture to lock her in there. He looked down at his shaking hands, clenched them into fists.

A knock came at the door.

“Come in,” he growled. “What are you doing here, Stryx? I gave you clear instructions. Where is Theodora?”

“You sent for me here, your majesty.”

He stood up abruptly.

“No. I did not. Find her, Stryx. Now.”

He should have never lost his temper and sent her away. Her assassin was out there somewhere, and they were manipulating Stryx to get to Daisy.

“I’ll check her bedroom and with Ruth in the hospital wing,” he said. “Try anywhere you can think of. Anywhere she’s wandered in the last few days.”

“I’ll look in the kitchens. That’s where she’s been going,” Stryx said.

He wondered if some part of her was scared he would starve her again. He could never fix what he had done. No matter how hard he tried.

He had done this to himself.

And now he had made Daisy relive her recurring nightmare.

She would never forgive him.

He couldn’t blame her.

But at least, perhaps, he could keep her from dying.

They separated.

Gareth strode through the castle like a wraith. Dark magic billowed away from him in a deadly fog. His head was filled with images of Daisy laid out, her pale blonde hair strewn across the cold stone, her eyes dead.

He would finally be able to control her. And yet, he couldn’t imagine a worse torment.

“Please be alive, Daisy.”

The keen blade hummed as he drew it from its sheath. He gazed upon the colossal guard who now lay in sight. Though his eyes were shut, Gareth held no sway over him; the guard was merely unconscious.

The corridor leading to Daisy's chambers harbored two more burly men, a formidable challenge for any delicate woman to overpower.

But Daisy was nowhere to be found.

Someone must have taken her, and yet…

Gareth knelt beside the last guard. He was asleep. Just like Daisy had been.

A sudden realization clicked in his mind.

She had done this.

Luckily, she had gotten away. They would no doubt have killed her. He did not send these guards, although he recognized his head guard, Malak Shaw.

All his power, and he couldn’t tell when someone was attempting to murder his wife? His hands burned with dark magic, spreading to Malak.

Gareth would not let him wake.

***

RUTH WAS HORRIFIED when Gareth notified her that Daisy was missing, and that someone was trying to kill her. Ruth was even more shocked to hear that Daisy had taken out three men.

“How could that be possible?” Ruth asked. She was looking much stronger, sitting up in her bed. “She’s been bed ridden for a decade and a half!”

“It seems she has absorbed the dark magic that was meant to kill her.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find Prince Julian. If not with you, she must be with him.”

“Don’t hurt him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Yes, he does, Ruth. He is trying to steal my flower. She is all I have left.”

“I think you are putting the blame on the wrong person.”

“Daisy? How could I blame the woman I love?”

“That’s not who I meant.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You must have done something to set her off,” Ruth said.

Gareth stared at her dumbfounded.

“I should be out there looking for her, not listening to your hollow bark,” Gareth said, sneering. “Goodbye, Ruth.”

.

THEODORA

Fault Lines

DAISY STOPPED AT THE EDGE of the forest, looking back at the place she once called home.

Even before residing there, she never regarded her family's château as home. It was when she accompanied her father to the castle for business, meeting both Gareth and Julian, that she started to see the castle as her true home.

The jubilance that had long since died in her heart alongside her mother, surged back strongly. To her father, Theodora was nothing more than a pawn.

And she was never that good at playing chess.

She couldn’t believe she had fallen into the trap he had set for her. He did everything he could to bring her and Gareth closer, give them opportunity. Anything for power. It was inadvertent that Gareth’s genius and intensity had insnared her.

She should have known better.

Resting on a boulder, she removed her bag just for a moment to catch her breath. The grass was dead. Only pale brown splotches, leafless plants, and sharp rocks scattered the grounds.

Fifteen years ago, everything was lush, beautiful, vibrant. Alive.

A rustling came from the trees and Theodora regretted that she didn’t have her knife with her. Whoever it was, she would just have to make them fall asleep before they came too close.

It drew nearer and Daisy crouched behind the boulder. She couldn’t see much. But she was safe.

“Daisy!” a voice said.

It was too late. A moment later, Prince Julian’s body came crashing down, his head colliding with a jagged rock.

“No!” she screamed, running to his side.

He lay limp in the dead grass. She tore part of her skirt and brought the grey fabric to his head, trying to staunch the blood that ran freely.

It continued to seep out a wicked gash, even though he was fast asleep.

“Wake up!” she yelled at him, smacking him with her free arm. She pulled his head into her lap, cradling it. “Julian, wake up!”

“Saved me some trouble,” a voice came from behind her.

She looked up through her tears though she knew immediately who it was.

Gareth.

Lord Cedric trailed behind.

How had he already revived?

“Please, Gareth, help him,” she pleaded, ignoring his comment. She moved her hand through Julian’s matted, blood-soaked hair. It wasn’t the same polished blonde anymore. “Please, do something.”

Gareth’s expression softened as he looked down at her. She begged him with her eyes.

“He’s lost too much blood, Daisy. I cannot fix him. Not even with dark magic.”

Daisy let out a sob, her body wracked with it as she held Julian steady. The blood finally stopped flowing. He was growing colder by the second.

“Do you have anything?” Gareth asked Lord Cedric sharply.

“No, I’m afraid not.”

Liar. He would never help Julian.

“I did this,” she breathed. “Gareth, I did this.”

His eyes lost all hardness. He stepped toward her.

“It’s not your fault, Daisy.”

“It is, Gare. I made him fall asleep. And the rock. He hit his head. Something’s wrong with me.”

Her bloodied hands shook.

Gareth moved toward her crouched body, dropping to the ground, approaching her as he would a wounded animal.

“Come here, Daisy.”

He helped her release the motionless man and pulled her into his arms. Gareth held her firmly as she sobbed into his shoulder.

“This isn’t your fault. It’s mine,” he whispered in her ear.

GARETH

The Tower's Lament

THEODORA WAS BACK in Gareth’s quarters, back in her velvet chair, wrapped in a blanket. She didn’t even fight him.

She wouldn’t take the chocolate he offered her. She couldn’t eat her dinner. She couldn’t sleep.

“Tell me what to do,” Gareth pleaded. “Tell me how to help you.”

He kneeled down beside her, looking into her glassy eyes. He went to grab something for Daisy. She didn’t even look down as he gently pried her hands from the blanket and placed the item in them.

It was a chocolate chip cookie.

“I didn’t hurt them, Daisy. I can’t deny I wanted to. It took everything in me not to. But I didn’t. Because of you. Because I love you.”

She finally looked at him and gave him a hollow smile. She brought her cold knuckles to smooth against his cheek.

“Can I see him?” she asked quietly. “One last time?”

He breathed in a shudder and closed his eyes against her hand. Fought back a growl. He would do anything for Daisy. He realized that now. Even if it meant sacrificing her love to a dead man.

“Come,” he said, wrapping his arms under her. He carried her bridal-style, the blanket falling to the floor, brushing her torn skirt.

He carried her all the way to the locked tower where he kept Prince Julian.

Who would take over now that he was out of the picture? His father was too frail. He had no siblings.

Gareth would leave Noria alone now. Now that his vengeance had been sated. Now that his vengeance had died.

As he stared down at the man before him, Daisy touching his face as she had Gareth, he realized Julian could never have sent the assassins after her.

Gareth should never have tried to punish Julian for what happened to Daisy. It wasn’t his fault. None of it was his fault.

“How much longer?” Daisy asked in a whisper.

From the shadows, Gareth observed as Theodora knelt at Julian’s side. Would she be so sad if Gareth ever died? He couldn’t help but wonder.

He had never done much to earn her love.

“A few hours, maybe.”

She was probably relieved to know that Julian could sleep through his injuries. Maybe until the very end.

“Can I stay here with him?”

“Yes. I’ll stay too.”

THEODORA

A Deadly Dance

SHE STARED DOWN at him. He had loved her. and this is where it had led.

Julian’s face was ashen, the glow of his lustrous tan dissipated. Theodora realized now that she had never seen him sick.

He was always so hardy.

Unlike her. Unlike Gareth.

Daisy seemed to always catch something. Gareth did too, but he would never admit it.

Neither of them had anyone to care for them.

Not really.

Once, when Gareth fell ill, his mother forbade him from getting close to her, fearing that she might contract whatever illness he had.

Lord Cedric was the same way.

But at least he always had some kind of potion to cure Theodora. Sometimes she would fake her symptoms to obtain a dose for Gareth as well.

Lord Cedric eventually caught on and took Gareth in. She didn’t have to fake it after that. Her father never took any interest in her, except when it involved Gareth.

Her father was always asking questions about him.

Daisy shook her head, dispelling the thoughts. She took Julian’s limp hand in her own.

She always knew her relationship with Julian put him at risk. From Gareth. From herself. But, in the end, it was really Daisy that led Julian to his demise, not Gareth.

It was her fault.

None of this would have happened if not for her.

She was like a chain link, holding the two men together, despite their obvious dislike for each other.

There was always some unspoken rivalry between them, even from day one. They would tease and taunt. They would play practical jokes.

Until they got older.

And then they stopped talking to each other completely, leaving Daisy in the middle, making her choose.

But it wasn’t really a choice.

She loved them both deeply.

But Gareth held her heart like a dead butterfly in a glass cloche.

She could never be released.

And the worst part was…

She chose that. She loved him. More than anything.

His love gave her meaning.

Theodora leaned her head into Julian’s cold hands, felt for the faint thrum of his pulse.

Why could she not have loved him instead?

What was wrong with her?

She didn't have to glance over to sense Gareth's penetrating gaze upon her. Maybe her deficiency in love had shaped her in this manner. She needed someone obsessed with her, someone who could dissolve the loneliness that constantly clung to her.

She needed him.

More than he needed her.

GARETH

Painted on My Heart

“GIVE THEM BACK THEIR DEAD,” Gareth instructed Lord Cedric.

“My king-”

"Cedric, consider this an order. And don’t think I've not noticed the mark on Theodora's face. I told you once before if you get near her again, you will regret it. The next time I have to tell you will be the last.”

Soft torch light licked Lord Cedric’s face as an array of emotions traversed across it — from astonishment to embarrassment to mortification.

Good. Gareth wanted him afraid.

“Send Stryx in after you,” Gareth demanded.

At the base of the sealed tower containing Julian, Gareth had briefly stepped away to issue instructions. With the sun beginning to set, a sense of urgency compelled him to expedite his tasks.

Lord Cedric spun around, disappearing down the hall. Gareth did not have to wait long before Stryx was born from the shadows.

“I want him followed,” Gareth said to her icily. No preamble was needed. “I told him to stay away from her and he didn’t listen. Find out what else he is up to.”

Stryx bowed her head in acknowledgement and whisked away into the darkness once again.

Back in the tower, he found Daisy resting her head against the cot that held Prince Julian. Gareth let in the nurse behind him. She had done a wonderful job fixing up Ruth.

Now she could make Julian more comfortable.

“Just one moment” he told her. “Daisy. Daisy, the nurse needs to look at him now. Here, let me help you.”

He pulled her fatigued body against him, lifting her into his arms. She closed her eyes again against his shoulder.

“We’ll be back in the morning,” he told the nurse. She nodded curtly and started pulling out medicines from her leather sac. “Let me know if there is any change.”

***

ONLY THE SOUND of the water lightly splashing pervaded the bathroom.

“Let me,” Gareth offered.

Daisy shyly handed him the soapy loofa. He pushed up the sleeves of his black regalia as she turned away from him.

A small sigh escaped her as he touched it to her back and started washing her. Her hair was wrapped up, revealing her elegant alabaster neck.

He put down the loofa.

Brought his hands to the same spot.

Her breath hitched.

Her pulse quickened.

He ran his fingers along her skin, then closed in for a gentle massage. Her head fell back, giving him more access.

He could see her eyes drifted closed, lashes falling over her cheeks.

The bubbles from the bath floated coyly around her body. But he had already seen her when she got in.

And that image was burned in his memory.

“I thought I could find a way to live without you,” he whispered.

Her eyes opened.

He continued his ministrations, relieving the ache he knew they both held.

“I thought if I locked you up. Locked away your memory. That I could forget.

But you are ingrained in my psyche, Daisy. I can never escape you.”

THEODORA

The Silent Confrontation

A SHARP BLADE TO HER throat woke Daisy up. She looked into the cloudy, unfocused eyes of the assassin. The pain started lacing Daisy’s body as she recognized who it was.

“Stryx?” she choked out, even as the blood started seeping out of the deep laceration in her throat.

Her choking and gagging were drowned out by the resounding thud of Stryx's body hitting the rug. It was too late for Daisy to call out.

Too late for help.

No one would hear her.

She was alone.

Alone to die.

GARETH

Blood Bonds

BUT IN AN INSTANT, Gareth reached Theodora’s side, frantic at the sight of her bleeding to death in the red velvet chair.

The blood blended right in.

Almost like it wasn’t even there.

Like her life could just pass by without leaving a stain. But he would be stained. He would never be right if she left him.

He screamed in horror, his hands shaking as he brought them to Daisy’s throat. Dark smoke swelled and pulsed, wrapping around, trying to stymie the blood flow.

Was this how she felt? As Julian had succumbed to his blood loss? Helpless to aid him? Knowing that someone she loved was so close to death? Beyond aid?

“Don’t worry, Theodora,” he lied. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I will save you.”

A knock came at the door. He yelled for them to come in without questioning the late hour.

Maybe they could help save her.

“Sorry to disturb you-” the nurse said as she opened the door. “My Queen!”

She ran to Daisy, who’s eyes were rolling back into her head. She was quickly losing consciousness, her eyes moved from Gareth’s to some nondescript location on the wall.

“She can’t breathe!” the nurse screamed at him.

“I can see that! What do you think I’m trying to do?”

“A stint! We need something to make a passage for air to flow!”

Gareth looked around, catching sight of a little shiny object embedded in the carpet. It was the key to the music box.

The tether he tried to destroy.

“That! Use that!”

The nurse swept to the floor, grasping at the hollow metal tube.

“It needs to go in here,” she said, marking a location on Daisy’s throat with her finger. “You’ll have to cut into the skin first, this isn’t sharp enough.”

Gareth pulled a blade from his sheath and immediately brought it to Daisy’s skin, moving the dark magic away minutely.

She started convulsing.

He took the key and thrust it into the cut he made.

She gasped.

Her eyes flew open.

Locked on Gareth.

His slippery, bloodied hands grasped hers firmly.

He would save her. No matter what it took. His dark magic. His life.

Anything.

The nurse fell back on her heels, pulling her white hat off her head. She held it to her heart.

“Your majesty,” she finally said to him.

He looked at her for a split second, his eyes having trouble concentrating on anything but Daisy. She was limp in his arms, rasping for breath. Tears streamed down her face.

He felt like his soul had been ripped from him and trodden on. He thought he had endured the worst form of suffering.

He had been wrong.

“Prince Julian is awake.”

His head snapped to the nurse.

He felt drunk with horror at Daisy being seconds away from death. He almost couldn’t comprehend what she said. It was nonsensical.

“How can that be?”

***

“WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?!” Prince Julian asked as they carried Daisy’s prone body on a stretcher into the locked tower.

Julian stood tall, only the remainder of a thick scar across his head where his hair had not grown back. He looked like he had been healing for months, not hours.

Gareth had never seen anything like it.

But he should not have been surprised. Gareth reanimated the dead, and his aging had slowed with only a potion, wicked as it was.

There were many powers in this world that he did not understand.

“It was an assassin,” Gareth said.

He laid Daisy carefully in Julian’s empty cot. Gareth laid her down. Her eyes were closed again but she was still breathing shallowly, the key jutting out of her neck.

“Is that?”

“It is,” growled Gareth, situating Daisy. “How are you not dead?”

“We all have our secrets, don’t we, Dark Prince?”

“King,” Gareth corrected. “Is it something in your blood?”

“Not that secret, I guess.”

“Give him a vial,” Gareth instructed the nurse.

“How do you know that will fix her?” Julian asked, taking the empty vial and turning it over in his hands. “What if it only hurts her.”

“It’s worth a shot. This is the alternative.”

Gareth gestured to Theodora. She still wore a ring of dark magic around her neck, entwining her in black wisps reminiscent of spider webs.

“Is that going to be permanent?” Julian asked.

“Stop asking questions and give me your blood.”

“I’ve sorry. I talk when I’m nervous.”

“I remember. You were always giving us away as children. Couldn’t keep a secret.”

“Daisy liked that about me. She doesn’t like secrets.”

“She kept you a secret,” said Gareth.

Julian hummed.

“That’s different. I wanted to steal her away. Why would she admit that to you.

Did you do that to her face?”

“I would never. It was her father.”

“Lord Cedric? You still keep him around?”

“He’s my advisor,” Gareth admitted.

Julian groaned.

“For someone so smart, you’re awfully stupid.”

“He was all I had left of her.”

“I guess I could understand.”

Julian handed back the vial full of blood. He looked drained, his glowing tan gone. He was starting to resemble Gareth.

Pale, gaunt, tormented.

If Daisy died, they’d both be ruined.

“Thank you,” Gareth said, taking the vial and handing it to the nurse.

She began preparing it for intravenous infusion.

“We were friends once, you know.”

“I remember.”

“Before Daisy came along and enchanted us both. Before we fought for her love.”

Gareth watched the blood drip slowly into Daisy, waiting for a reaction. He wasn’t sure what made Julian come back, but he would be his best friend if it meant bringing Daisy back from the brink.

“She chose you, you know,” Julian said.

“Why do you say that? She was trying to run away from me. From the kingdom.”

“Because I asked her to go with me.”

Gareth turned to him harshly. If looks could kill.

“But do you know what she said?”

“Obviously not.”

“She said she had chosen you. That she loved you, in a way. And one day you would remember how to love her too.”

The color started returning to Daisy’s face. Her lips turned into their natural bruised hue. Gareth took her by the hand and slowly released his dark magic from her neck.

The silver key clanged as it fell to the floor. Gareth swiftly retrieved it, handing it over.

“Thank you,” Julian said.

Gareth nodded, his eyes on Daisy’s. They slowly opened and he got lost in the pale blue glass orbs.

“Gare?” she asked. Her voice was thin, raspy, like her vocal cords were still growing back. She looked down at his hand holding hers. “How?”

His eyes moved to the man behind her.

“Julian!” she exclaimed. “You’re alive.”

She used her free hand to wrap around him in a hug. Gareth unintentionally tightened his grip on her hand, but she didn’t pull away.

“Is that how we’re both still here?” Daisy asked Julian. “You have some kind of special ability. That’s why you haven’t aged.”

“Well, Gareth wouldn’t have taken no for an answer,” Julian said. “Not that I would have refused.”

Daisy looked back at Gareth. Warmth was in her eyes. Gratitude. Pride. He looked away.

“Julian, will you keep an eye on her? There’s an assassin I need to deal with.”

THEODORA

Reawakening

“DON’T HURT STRYX,” Theodora pleaded to Gareth, grabbing his arm.

“She tried to kill you, Daisy,” Gareth said, pulling his arm away. “I entrusted her to keep you safe and this is how she repaid me.”

“Something was wrong with her, Gare. Her eyes were cloudy, like she wasn’t even there. Like she didn’t even recognize me.”

“You think someone used her to get to you?” Julian asked.

“That’s exactly what I think. She wouldn’t have done that to me willingly.”

“Daisy, there’s something I have to tell you. She was the assassin from before, I just didn’t realize it. She was wearing the same cloak when she jumped out of the bathroom window.”

“Maybe she was under influence then too,” Daisy said.

“Who would have the power to put someone under their influence like that?” Julian asked aloud.

“Someone incredibly powerful,” Gareth said. “I’m going to find Stryx and see if she knows anything. Or if she even remembers.”

“I’m coming with you,” Daisy said.

“You almost died five minutes ago Daisy. You are not coming,” Gareth said sternly. She pulled her hand away from his.

“Yes, I am. Someone is trying to kill me and they’re going to keep trying until they do. I can’t rest now.”

Julian took her hand and helped her up, resting his own hand behind her back to keep her steady.

Gareth narrowed his eyes.

“Alright, let’s check my rooms first in case she is still there. Your sleeping curse might still be in effect.”

***

“GET BEHIND ME, DAISY,” Gareth demanded.

Red light filtered through the stained glass. The window featured a rose in bloom, each fragment a petal.

The abandoned corridor of grey stone walled them in. Across from Gareth, Theodora, and Julian, stood Stryx. She was wearing her black military garb again, with gold epaulettes. As if they didn’t know who she was.

Or maybe she wasn’t under mind control anymore. She didn’t remember that they knew. Theodora couldn’t see her eyes to tell.

She was too far away.

“We know you’re the assassin, Stryx,” Gareth said, blocking Daisy’s view he moved in front of her. She hadn’t listened.

Next to her, Julian retrieved his sword. Daisy chided him. He ignored her.

“We don’t want to hurt you, Stryx.”

“Speak for yourself,” Julian cut in.

“Daisy doesn’t want to hurt you. Now tell us who has been using you to try and hurt her. We don’t blame you.”

Stryx watched placidly from the shadows. Finally, she stepped forward into the red light.

“Daisy, he’s the one behind all this,” Stryx said clearly, jutting her pointer finger in his direction.

“What are you talking about, Stryx?” Daisy asked.

Stryx unsheathed her daggers and took another step. Daisy moved closer, ignoring the protests of both men. She wouldn’t be trying to warn her if she was intending to kill her.

“He’s the one who was manipulating me. He’s the one who wants you dead.”

“That’s impossible. He controls the dead,” Daisy said, staggering. “He has dark magic-”

“Yes, dark magic. You have no idea what he is capable of, Daisy.”

Stryx stepped even closer.

Gareth grabbed Daisy’s arm. She looked back, from his pale hand gripping her skin, to his dangerous expression.

“Did he not try to kill you already, Daisy? Kill your friend?”

Daisy kept her eyes trained on Gareth.

What Stryx said was true.

The man before her was vastly different from the man she married. While she had been asleep for fifteen years, unable to wake up, he had changed. He had acquired dark magic. Became paranoid. Miserable.

Looking at him was like noticing scars she couldn’t remember getting. They were there, strewn across skin like cracks in ice. Chips in his armor. But she wasn’t sure how they came to be. Were they self-inflicted or self-defense?

It was because of her.

He became the way because he suffered too while she was gone, only his suffering was worse. Every moment she slept, he was alone. He had no more family.

She was his family.

She was the meaning of his life. Or at least that’s what he had vowed to her on the alter. And it was evident now.

In the grip of his cold fingers.

In the fear of losing her in his eyes.

Suddenly, Daisy felt horrible about the way she had maligned Gareth since she had woken up. He had changed a lot during that time.

Because he loved her.

For no other reason than that.

GARETH

Blades and Betrayal

“SHE’S UNDER THEIR INFLUENCE,” Daisy said, stepping back behind the two men.

“How can you tell?” Julian asked. “You should come with me, Theodora, in case she is telling the truth.”

“Can you see her eyes?” Gareth asked her, taking out his own sword.

“No. But I know you would never hurt me. And she believes what she is saying. Someone is controlling her,” Daisy said.

Gareth’s heart cracked at her words. She didn’t believe the lies spewing from Stryx’s mouth. He would never hurt Daisy.

And God help anyone who tried.

“We don’t know that for a fact, Daisy,” Julian said, his eyes moving to Gareth’s tight grip on her arm.

“I do,” she snapped at Julian.

Gareth cracked a smile.

Half a second later, Julian was pushing Theodora away right as Stryx came at her, swinging her blades. The sharp edge disappeared inside Julian’s shoulder.

Daisy cried out as he grunted from pain. Stryx reclaimed her crimson blade, blood dripping off and splattering along the floor.

Gareth had let his guard down.

Now he was focused.

He gathered dark magic in one hand and threw it in Stryx’s wildly changing direction, then ran to meet her with his sword.

She caught it between her two daggers.

Her eyes were clouded.

Just as Daisy had predicted.

He pulled away.

“Get her away Julian,” he yelled. He hoped Julian would recover quickly enough from the wound. “I’ll hold her off.”

“I can make her sleep,” cried Theodora frantically.

“I need her awake,” Gareth responded. “Go.”

Gareth heard the two sets of shoes hurrying in the opposite direction, and he turned his full attention to Stryx. She was once his highest-ranking officer.

Now she was trying to assassinate the love of his life.

“You are lucky,” he said as dark magic grew from his body, flooding the stone floor in a fog.

“Why is that?” Stryx asked between her teeth as she spun around, attempting to swipe him with her flashing blades.

She had no reservations about killing her opponent.

Unfortunately, he did.

Swirls of sickly black smoke engulfed Stryx, climbing up her body like a parasite. She dropped her daggers and tried to brush it off. It clung to her. Wrapped around her neck. Kept her in place.

She struggled to breathe.

Her eyes flashed in his direction.

“Because Daisy would never forgive me if I killed you,” he said icily. “And my love for her outweighs my desire to avenge her.”

THEODORA

Not Him

“WHAT IF SHE WAS telling the truth, Daisy?” Julian asked. “He’s murdered thousands of my people in siege. He’s hurt you before. The kitchen staff told me what happened to you when you awoke.

“How he had you imprisoned. Almost killed you. How can you trust him after that? How can you stand to be near him?”

They sat in desolate castle chamber. Heavy droplets of blood fell to the stone floor from the wound his hand concealed.

He was bleeding from a mortal wound and somehow was more concerned about Daisy’s wellbeing. She couldn’t even be mad at him.

She just ignored him.

Gareth wasn’t himself when he did those things to her. He thought she was a spy. Someone using his pain to twist a knife into him.

Someone who was using his love for Daisy against him.

What Julian didn’t realize was how much Gareth had helped her recover. How he spent every bath by her side. How he massaged her shoulders and washed her. How he gave her chocolate and tea to help her sleep.

How he watched her.

How he cared for her.

How he loved her.

She pushed away her thoughts and focused on the problem before her.

If Daisy hadn’t seen the injury or the blood-stained floor, she wouldn’t have believed Julian was injured. His skin radiated with a healthy tan. His eyes mirrored the ocean's blue, basking in the sunlight's embrace, which crowned his golden hair like a halo.

Her savior.

And yet.

All she could think about was Gareth.

Was he alright? Was he injured? Did he win the fight?

Daisy ripped the bottom of her skirt into a long bandage and moved toward Julian.

“Can I take a look?” she asked.

He gazed at her briefly, then gingerly withdrew his hand from the wound. With some effort, he managed to remove his shirt, and she assisted him in pulling it over his head.

Daisy touched his torso to examine it. His skin felt warm under her fingertips. The wound was deep but showed signs of closing. She carefully wound the bandage around him, and it slowly absorbed the seeping blood.

“We should stay here while you recover. You shouldn’t be moving too much,” she said softly.

He was so close to her.

She started to back away when he caught her by the waist. Pulled her even closer. Until her body was pressed against his naked torso.

She looked up at him in surprise.

He brought his lips crashing to hers.

They were soft, yet demanding, prying hers open.

She made a noise, throwing her hands against his hard chest.

She finally managed to push him away, gasping. She wiped her mouth and backed away, trying to catch her breath.

She looked at him sadly.

“Julian. You have to stop.”

“Why?” he asked, stepping toward her.

She just shook her head.

“Do you remember what I told you that night?”

“I remember,” she said, looking away from him.

“I love you,” he said.

He took her hand in his.

“It should have been me,” he said. “I could have loved you more. I could have taken care of you. What has he done? Allowed someone to curse you? Turned to the dark? Took in the man who abused you? Almost killed you? Why him Daisy? Why him?”

“Because she’s mine,” a voice said from the doorway.

“Gareth!” Daisy said, turning toward him, pulling her hand from Julian.

He was still in one piece.

“I will forgive you this time, Julian, since your blood is what healed her. But if you touch her against her will again, I will kill you.”

Gareth took Daisy’s hand in his.

“Goodbye, Julian,” Gareth said.

***

WHEN  DAISY AND GARETH made it back to their rooms, they were both quiet. His hand still held hers like he had no plans of letting go.

Daisy wasn’t sure what to make of Gareth’s possessive display or of Julian’s confession.

She knew Julian felt that way, but his forwardness surprised her. His question kept replaying in her head, nagging her.

Why him?

Why Gareth?

She didn’t like the idea of Julian being hurt, but part of her enjoyed seeing Gareth claim her.

She was his.

She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself, why it mattered to her. Why it made her feel warm, loved. Why it made her cheeks blush.

Why she wanted to be possessed by him.

He was wrong. He was bad for her. He hurt her friends and pulled her away from reality.

He killed people.

Turned their dead into his soldiers.

Julian was light.

Gareth was a black hole.

But she dove right in, forgetting everything.

Nothing else mattered but him.

He closed the door behind them.

Closed in on her.

She had nowhere to go.

Her breathing was heavy.

His eyes were vipers.

He brought one hand to the small of her waist and stroked  her through the fabric of her dress. She closed her eyes against his stare.

His hand moved up her body. Rested on her neck. Her pulse fluttered against his cool fingers. She was a hummingbird trapped in a metal cage.

“Look at me, Daisy,” he said.

Her eyes opened to his hunger.

“You are mine,” he growled. “Say it.”

“I am yours.”

He brought his mouth to the corner of hers. Her eyes fluttered closed again in anticipation.

“I’m not like him,” he said. “Sometimes I wished I was. That night… But I’m not. And I won’t force myself on you.”

He  brushed his fingers over her parted lips. He arched her chin up as if to kiss her. Instead, he breathed against her.

“I want to know you want me. I want you begging.”

Daisy’s body quivered beneath him.

Suddenly, he moved away, leaving her barely supporting herself against the door.

“I’m going to have the guards outside the room stick around,” he said. “I need to go visit your father.”

GARETH

Blood Betrayal

GARETH REACHED THE DOOR with the silver serpent. It was deep down in the dungeons where no light was allowed to enter. The serpent appeared green, alive even, from the strange torchlight on the walls.

He touched his hands to the serpent and knocked it against the metal plate.

No response.

He knocked again.

Gareth hated to be kept waiting.

He allowed his dark magic seep through the door and unlock the bolt with a clink. He let himself in.

The rooms were large, extravagant. But empty of his advisor. Gareth went to the potions room that he knew must be holding Lord Cedric’s attention.

The walls were covered in dusty shelves littered with bottles. The handwriting was neat, precise. Gareth picked up a bottle labeled ‘restorative elixir.’

It was the one Gareth requested be used on Ruth after she was taken to the hospital wing. After Gareth had interrogated her.

If Gareth didn’t have such a penchant for death, Lord Cedric could probably keep anyone alive with these potions. But then they couldn’t become a part of The Dread Sovereign’s army.

Gareth pocketed the bottle.

He could use it on Daisy if anything else happened to her. Which brought him back to what he was there for. He needed to speak to Lord Cedric to begin looking into other people. One of them must be the culprit behind Daisy’s assassins and curse.

Just as Gareth was about to turn away, something caught his eye. Little letters on a tiny bottle. Almost impossible to read.

Morpheus’ Embrace.

His heart stopped.

His face grew cold.

His hand shook as he reached to grab the bottle.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” a voice said behind him.

Gareth stood stock still. Then wrapped his fingers around the bottle. Pocketed it. Turned around.

“You?” he asked.

Lord Cedric stood across the room from him. He looked so comfortable amidst the potions and wears. Gareth couldn’t fathom how the man could use them against his own daughter.

It had been right in front of Gareth.

A blind spot.

“You’ve always had a weakness, my king.”

“A weakness?”

“Theodora. You see, by the time I was your age, I had turned from nothing to the richest and most influential man in Thessalon. Everyone came to me. That’s how I met her mother.

“She had nothing to give me, really. Besides being beautiful. But she gave me Theodora. At first, I thought she was nothing more than a burden.

“But as she grew, I realized that the little prince of Silverhaven was the same tender age as her. And he would need a playmate.

“I stuck her under your nose at every opportunity. I used you from the very beginning. You fell in love with her because I wanted you to.”

“Theodora is no pawn,” Gareth said.

“She is,” Lord Cedric said.

He stepped closer.

“And you are a pawn too, Gareth. Through you, I have amassed wealth and influence across the seven kingdoms. Used them against each other. Traded secrets. Even now, they await my orders.”

“You are no king.”

“I am better than a king. I am the overseer. The designer. The game master.

“I am omniscient.”

Gareth started releasing dark magic as soon as he gathered his wits.

“I don’t think so,” Lord Cedric said.

Immeasurable pain crawled up Gareth’s arms where his magic came from. He looked down. His veins were black.

“I rubbed a little something on the snake in case I got any unannounced visitors such as yourself. Just like on Theodora’s harp.

“I call it the Paradox Potion. It seeps into the skin upon contact. Anyone with special abilities will soon be feeling them act on themselves when they try to use them.

“Unfortunately for you, your power is deadly. Don’t worry, I’ll say goodbye to Theodora for you.”

Gareth fell to the hard ground. He could feel the dark magic threading itself into his heart. He couldn’t save Daisy.

He couldn’t even save himself.

THEODORA

The Sleeping Dragon

THE WINDOWS REVEALED NOTHING but stormy grey skies. Theodora felt exactly the same. Should she tell Gareth?

That she loved him?

That she hated him?

That she wanted him to make her whole again?

The sky lit up, revealing the red velvet chair she slept in. Her back hurt. Yet she sought it every night.

Like a drug.

Where was Gareth?

She couldn’t sleep.

She laughed to herself, delirious. Gareth was gone. How was she supposed to sleep when he was away? He was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Alive.

Awake.

In a way.

She would sleep. But the nightmares would come. They would torment her. Terrorize her. They would not leave her alone.

She was alone.

She would rather be bedridden with Gareth by her side, knowing he would never leave her than be living freely without him.

The realization shocked her.

She pulled the knife off the table, wrapped it in her sash, and strode out the door. She was not going to sit around and wait any longer.

The skeletons were there to greet her.

They moved lethargically towards her.

Something was wrong.

“Take me to him,” she said to the skeletons.

Slowly, they dragged themselves down the corridor. Daisy followed in the wake of their cemetery scent.

She had never gone so far beneath the castle alone. Once, when they were little, she and the boys played hide and go seek down there.

But Theodora was too scared.

She was peeking the whole time.

The skeletons were silent as they led her along. They seemed to be slowing.

“Hurry up,” she demanded, but it was no use.

Suddenly, they stopped. As still as the dead.

Until they collapsed.

Daisy yelped as a skull ran past her foot. The piles of bones made a blockade in the dark hall. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Only one thing could cause them to fall.

Gareth was in trouble.

Was he still alive?

Daisy had no idea where she was. The halls all looked alike, winding in an underground labyrinth. And she was Ariadne, without her gold thread.

She stepped over the lifeless bones, lifting her skirt. Continuing in the direction they had led her, Daisy passed by several unmarked doors.

When she turned down a corridor where ambient green light shone, Daisy felt her skin prickle. She kept on, the glow growing brighter and more ominous.

A heavy wooden door with a curling serpent knocker stood before her. This was it. Gareth was in there somewhere.

In her father’s rooms.

She recognized the serpent.

It was the same as his pin.

She pushed and the door silently swung open, revealing a room filled with dark magic.

It stifled her.

She choked in the thick air.

Gareth was lying sprawled out on the stone.

He appeared to be dead. And she felt her soul die too.

Is this how he felt?

How did he bear it?

She ran to him. Fell to her knees. Pulled his head into her lap. Black veins climbed up his neck beneath his collar. His hands looked like they were wrapped in thorns.

She brought her hand to his face. A soft moan escaped him. His eyes opened.

Black.

They were completely eclipsed by dark magic.

“Gareth,” she cried, smoothing his cold porcelain cheeks.

“Daisy,” he croaked.

Even his voice sounded dead.

“I kept trying to wake you,” he whispered. “I tried everything. But you wouldn’t open your eyes. Couldn’t. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Daisy.”

“Oh Gareth!”

Was this the fate they were destined? She awoke to this nightmare? She finally recognized what she wanted and now it was going to be taken away.

“You're the one who suffered most, Gareth,” she said through her tears. “I realize that now. Watching the one you love wither away into oblivion, it would turn anyone mad."

He smiled wryly.

Could he even see her?

“I would bring this world to its knees for you, Daisy. You are my Princess.”

His hand lifted and wrapped languidly around the back of her neck, pulling her towards him.

“I love you Gareth.”

“I love you, too.”

Their lips parted and Daisy pulled away slowly, looking down on him.

Looking down on her sleeping dragon.

THEODORA

A Knife’s Blade

THEODORA FOUGHT THROUGH her exhaustion, hefting Gareth’s surprisingly heavy body down the corridor. Kicking bones out of the way from her skeleton guides, she found an empty room to stash her love in.

“I promise I’ll come back,” Daisy said, kissing Gareth’s cheek.

The tears had dried on her face, but her heart felt like it bled inside her. She was raw with pain.

She looked over at him, panting. The blackness in his veins had stopped creeping, thanks to the coma-like paralysis she put him in.

She just hoped it would hold long enough.

If she was not here when he woke up…

She couldn’t think like that.

Kissing once more, her dark prince, Daisy got up and steeled herself. She had to find help.

Julian.

If he was willing.

That was her main priority.

The second- Lord Cedric.

It was obvious to her now that he was behind her poisoning. It was no curse. It was him and his vile creation.

She should have realized.

She stood up, promising Gareth silently that she would save him.

“You never were very clever,” a voice said from the doorway.

Her heart stopped.

“Although, I must applaud you. I’m surprised you thought to use your power on him to keep him alive.”

Daisy turned around slowly.

Lord Cedric stood before her, only a few feet away. Between her and the way out.

“I was surprised when you woke. I wondered, how could that be?”

Her heart beat against her chest like a funeral drum.

“I questioned who could have awoken you. Was it Julian? Who was so in love with you. Who refused to die no matter how many times I tried to poison him.”

Daisy gasped.

“Was it Gareth? Who was so blinded by his love for you that he couldn’t see what was right before his eyes. That you were cheating on him with Julian?”

“I never-”

“Don’t lie to me, Theodora,” he growled. “I saw you that night. Behind the apple trees. You were a fresh little Daisy. Just picked. The wedding ring new on your finger when Julian took you aside, confessed his feelings.

“I saw you kiss him.”

“He kissed me! I told him no,” Daisy cried.

“Liar.”

“I’m no liar.”

“You have no idea what I had to do to become someone. The trades I had to make. I thought you would be the easiest one.

“All you had to do was be pretty and hope you caught the prince’s attention. And keep it. And you couldn’t even do that.

“You had to step out on him.”

Theodora shook her head violently, tears streaming from her face. It was not true. She had never let her heart beat for another.

It was always Gareth.

“I had no choice.”

Her father used her.

“Too much was at stake. All the power and prestige I had amassed, you were about to crumble. I left that harp for you, knowing you couldn’t resist it.

“I told Gareth what I saw. Just enough to make you fight and go back to your rooms. Right to the harp. Music was always an escape for you.

“You were asleep before morning.”

Daisy fell to her knees, face in her hands.

Her whole relationship with Gareth had been manufactured from the beginning. Every word. Every moment.

She was a pawn.

She had been used.

And she had been made to use him.

She didn’t even realize she was doing it.

She had caused her own downfall.

She had caused Gareth to seek the darkness.

This was all her fault.

“After you were out of the picture, it was hard at first. Gareth didn’t want to give up on you. Didn’t want to remarry. He thought there would be some way to fix you. To wake you up.

“I could have done it at any point. But I wasn’t going to. I realized I could use Gareth’s misfortune to my advantage.

“He had already turned against Prince Julian. With a little push, he was tearing apart Julian empire. Blocking trade routes, selling secrets. But he was never willing to go all the way. He wouldn’t kill him.

“He knew you loved him. And then I taught him dark magic. Well, I found him a mentor. Unfortunately, when Gareth realized he couldn’t help him wake you, he murdered him.”

Daisy gasped.

“Don’t be surprised. He’s killed many people since then. Anyone he thought was a spy. Anyone I made look like one.”

Daisy wrapped her arms around her body and stared at the man in black next to her.

A murderer.

“He killed for you. So many physicians and sorcerers he hoped could cure you. Fortunately for me, he wasn’t willing to see me dead. Not yet. Not the father of his beloved.

“But then you had to go and wake up. And I came to realize- you did it on your own. You absorbed the poison in your veins and made it a part of you.

“I hadn’t anticipated that.”

“You’re horrible,” Daisy said.

“I’m a mastermind.”

“What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Theodora? I want to be Emperor. And I’m so close. I forgot. I brought you a present.”

Lord Cedric left the room and dragged in a body behind him.

Julian.

Daisy screamed.

“How could you do this?”

“He’s only knocked out. I haven’t figured out how to kill him yet. But perhaps you meant, how do I have the moral fortitude to do this?

“I never really considered you my daughter, Theodora. And I never cared about either of them. Gareth was a tool. And this one just got in the way.

“It’s going to look like Prince Julian killed both of you. In the end, it won’t matter that he’s still alive. The people will see him punished.”

“You were always the villain. Not Gareth. You used him just like you used me. I detest you,” Daisy spat.

“It makes no difference to me. Goodbye, Theodora.”

She attempted to use her power to make him sleep.

But he still stood, smirking down on her.

“There’s nothing you can do to stop me, Theodora. I already made an antidote to your power.”

Theodora held her side as if a stitch pained her.

“I can’t use my power against you.”

“No.”

She swung forward.

The silver blade from her dagger briefly caught the light before it sunk into Lord Cedric’s chest.

“But I can use this,” she said, gritting her teeth as she took it out and drilled it back in.

Blood splattered on her face and Lord Cedric fell to the ground, shock frozen on his face.

“This dagger was given to me to kill the love of my life. It’s fitting that it should kill you instead,” Daisy said as she stood over him.

Blood dripped from the knife’s blade.

GARETH

Sleeping Beauty

HIS EYES OPENED TO SUNLIGHT filtering through the stained-glass window. It sparkled against Daisy’s face.

Yellow stood out the most against her white skin.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“You’re home,” Daisy said.

He reached to his throat. He wasn’t being suffocated by his own power. He held his hands in front of his eyes. The veins weren’t black anymore.

“How?” he asked.

Daisy looked over.

Julian sat a few feet away.

“You’re not my enemy,” Julian said. “I could never hate the man Daisy loves.”

“Thank you,” Gareth said. He wondered if he could ever forgive someone who also wiped their kingdom off the map. “What happened to your father?”

He looked at Daisy.

She was so gentle. Like a flower. And she was still blooming.

Still breathing.

“I killed him.”

His jaw dropped.

“He was going to kill us all.”

“How did you do it?”

“The dagger Ruth gave me. I should go thank her. I hear she’s been released from the hospital wing.”

“Did he tell you?” Gareth asked quietly.

He wasn’t talking about Ruth.

“That he pushed us together?” she laughed sardonically.

He frowned, reached for her hand.

“It doesn’t matter, Daisy. I love you.”

“All I’ve done to you is take,” she said quietly. “Even when I didn’t know I was. I’m sorry.”

“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you, Daisy. But I need you. At least I can admit that. You are my family. We are each other’s family.”

“Why are we like this?” she asked. “You’ve murdered people. Tortured them. And me- you think I’ve betrayed you. You only fell in love with me because it was his plan. How can we be like this?”

“I can’t give you an answer Daisy. You can’t rationalize love.”

“Will you stop?” she asked. “Fighting the other kingdoms? Noria? Julian?”

“I never wanted them. Never wanted to be an emperor. I only wanted to punish them for the torment I was feeling. For my suffering.”

He paused, sorrowful.

“When I finally got you back. I thought I was being selfish, hiding you away, not wanting anyone to see you. not even your father.”

He gave a hollow laugh.

“But it turns out I was keeping you safe. From him,” Gareth said.

Daisy looked up.

“What happened to Stryx?”

“Infirmary.”

Daisy looked shocked.

“For the mind control. I didn’t hurt her.”

Daisy relaxed.

“It looks like you have quite a few people to visit,” he said. “Lady Silverhaven.”

She smiled.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he said.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He sighed.

“On our wedding night. You told me you didn’t kiss Julian. That you refused him. And I didn’t believe you. If I had been there when you went to the room…”

“You couldn’t have stopped it, Gareth. It would have happened either way.”

“But I failed you.”

“You waited for me,” she said, moving closer. “And I need you too. I am yours, Gareth. I’ve always been yours.”

She leaned over on the bed where he sat, and he pulled her down on top of him.

He knew Julian was watching only a few feet away, and he should have been courteous to the man whose blood saved him. But instead, he laid claim to his sleeping beauty, and brought his lips to hers.

THEODORA

Rising from the Ashes

“DO YOU HEAR THAT sound?” Daisy asked, pulling away from Gareth’s lips.

“Stay here,” Gareth told her, moving away.

Julian was already at the window.

There was a rapping at the door and Daisy went to open it.

“We have to leave. Now,” it was Stryx.

“Let’s get you dressed, my lady,” Ruth said from beside her.

“What is it? What’s going on? Gareth?”

Theodora ran to the window.

Gareth’s jaw was locked.

Her blood ran cold.

Below them, surrounding the kingdom were thousands of troops, in all different colors.

The ones in front wore gold.

Norians.

Gareth’s head snapped to Prince Julian. Daisy took Gareth’s hand in hers.

“Do you know anything about this?”

“Still don’t trust me after everything we’ve been through?”

Gareth didn’t respond.

But she understood Julian knew nothing about this. He couldn’t have. And he certainly wouldn’t have.

He had been with them throughout everything. He hadn’t even gone back to Noria. Lord Cedric was dead. Something else must have happened.

“They think you have them both under some sort of spell, Daisy. That you’ve come back from the dead,” Stryx said as she threw a cloak at her.

She caught the heavy material. She locked eyes with Stryx, but from her peripherals she could see Ruth throwing things in a bag for her.

“They aim to kill you. And the Dread Sovereign.”

Her stomach dropped.

She should have known.

Should have realized.

She can’t have everything.

She can’t have Gareth, and Julian, and her friends, and her castle, and her kingdom.

It was too much to dream.

And she should realize by now when she’s dreaming.

Gareth had already moved to the balcony. She could almost feel the rustle in the autumn air as the dead started to rise.

Thousands of skeletons crawled out of the packed dirt, as if from a mass of unmarked graves.

They were underneath the castle.

Daisy couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine.

“Can you hold them off?” she asked as she came up beside Gareth.

He looked exhausted. He was running on fumes, still recovering from the potion that almost killed him.

“I don’t know,” he said. “There are so many.”

Over the horizon, more and more troops gathered, pouring over the mountain.

Gareth had made enemies in seven kingdoms.

Daisy knew the answer.

She took his hand again.

“You guys should leave,” Julian said. “He’s too tired to take on that many people. And even if he could. Do you want to see them all die?”

Julian was the voice of reason.

“What do you want to do, my king? I will send out the troops,” Stryx said.

“No, don’t,” Gareth replied. “I don’t want those people to die. Julian is right. We cannot win. We cannot fight.”

He looked down sadly at Daisy.

“You should go without me. If I am with you, there would be no getting away. No safe haven.”

Daisy wanted to laugh at the irony. Silverhaven was supposed to be their safe haven. But instead, she said nothing.

She turned to Ruth.

“Thank you.”

Daisy took her hand in hers. The gleaming silver tag still hung from her wrist. Tears wetted Ruth’s eyes. Daisy bent down and gave her a hug.

“I’ll miss you,” Daisy said.

“I’ll miss you too, my Queen.”

“Stryx,” Daisy said, turning to her.

The general held out her hand, but Daisy ignored it and pulled her in for a hug too.

She moved away.

“In another world,” Julian said when Daisy came to him. “You would have been mine.”

Daisy laughed.

“I love you too,” she said.

He engulfed her in a warm hug and didn’t let go for a long minute.

He kissed her forehead.

“I’ll allow that,” Gareth said, shaking Julian’s hand.

“I think I’m owed some kind of kiss,” Julian said, looking at Daisy. “I’ve been through a lot for you guys.”

“All you had to do was ask,” Gareth said, bringing him in for a hug and smacking him on the cheek with a kiss.

Julian groaned, wiping his face with his shoulder.

Daisy moved toward him and gave him a peck on each cheek.

“Goodbye, Julian,” she said.

Gareth and Daisy left the room, taking the bag packed for Daisy, and made their way through the castle.

“You know,” Daisy said to him when they reached the bottom floor. They walked outside, hand in hand.

The cerulean sky was surprisingly beautiful.

Maybe it was just because Daisy knew she finally had Gareth beside her.

Just like she always wanted.

Daisy could see the skeletons trying to fend off the soldiers from the seven kingdoms. They weren’t doing that well because Gareth ordered them not to kill.

And she was proud of him for it.

“What?” asked Gareth, looking down on her.

His eyes were tired.

His shoulders were sagging.

It was killing him.

Using this much power.

He wouldn’t last much longer.

She pulled something out of her pocket. It was a bottle she found in his, after she killed her father.

A healing potion.

“I never planned on leaving without you,” she said, handing it to him.

He uncorked it and swallowed it down.

She turned to the ocean of soldiers, human and skeleton alike. She closed her eyes.

And when she opened them, everyone from the seven kingdoms had collapsed to the ground, fast asleep.

And Gareth looked down on her with love and astonishment.

“Let’s go,” she said. “We’ll find a new home. Together.”

Acknowledgements

I want to thank everyone who has shown me so much support! The enthusiasm my husband, son, and friends have shown has been so uplifting. I appreciate their eagerness to support me by reading my books and listening to me talk about them. I love sharing my character’s stories, but as every artist knows, it can be a hard thing to do. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them!

About the Author

I like to think of myself as a mom of many children. I have a pet bunny, way too many plants, but only one kid. I hope to foster and adopt to fulfill my nurturing instinct.

Living in a world of kitty cats and rainbows, as my husband says, I try to see the optimistic side of life, even though it can sometimes be hard. My books provide me with a way to shine light on the most important part of life: love.

My books, though ranging across several micro genres, explore stories of forbidden romance. I believe that love can prevail despite challenges presented by difficult circumstances, societal taboos, and cultural barriers, proving that sometimes, our hearts find solace in the most unexpected of places.

Thanks for reading!

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