-Dawn-
"Lady Dawn, you need to wake up now." Olga shook my shoulder, and I yawned as I opened my eyes. I tiredly sat up in bed as Olga pulled away the blankets.
"I need to get you ready, Lady Dawn. My King waits for no one." She took my hand, pulled me out of bed, and led me into the washroom, where the tub was already steaming with hot water.
"But Miss Olga, I bathed yesterday," I protested. "I know, my lady, but you will always bathe before meeting my King. It is part of the routine, his rite." She insisted and began undressing me.
I stood still and let her remove my nightgown before she helped me into the tub. The hot water stung, just like yesterday, but I lowered myself into it. I let Olga perform her routine, and as she continued with her lullabies and the washcloth, a strange calm settled over me, as if the night's terror was slowly being washed away.
Olga continued with yesterday's routine: the oils, the clothing. The corset tightened around my chest.
"Please, Miss Olga, this is too tight. I can't breathe," I gasped. But Olga didn't answer. She only tightened it further.
"Please?" I panted, searching for a response, but she remained silent. I felt the energy shift when she finally met my gaze after tying it.
She was afraid. The dress was red, plain, and not as extravagant as yesterday's, but still elegant, made from the finest silk. It flowed tightly around my waist before loosening slightly below. It made me feel exposed, as though this was not the kind of dress worn by finer ladies. I knew women from the capital wore layers of clothing: large skirts, white blouses, and puffy sleeves. It felt like this dress was missing something. Olga avoided my gaze again, and I grew more uneasy about asking what was happening. So I remained silent, fighting to draw enough air into my lungs.
"Come, Lady Dawn. It is time." We left the chambers and walked down a narrow path. With every turn, the passage became smaller and smaller until there was only one door left at the end. Olga stopped before it. She nervously glanced at me before opening it. The room beyond was pitch black. I looked at her.
"What is this, Miss?" I asked. She lowered her head. "You need to go inside alone, Lady Dawn. Then find the center of the room. A small carving in the flooring marks the spot. Lie down there." I gasped. Before I could protest, Olga pushed me inside and locked the door behind me. I froze. I tried to make my eyes adjust to the darkness, but there was no source of light anywhere in the room. Maybe this was what death felt like. Complete darkness. I hesitated, unsure if I was alone or if he was watching me. Did he want me to crawl on my knees, searching for the mark with my hands? The thought awakened something inside me. Anger. What kind of game was this?
Nevertheless, I lowered myself onto my hands and knees and began crawling. The floor was cold. Everything in this castle was cold.
I brushed my fingers over the flooring, searching for the carving while relying on my hearing instead of my vision. But the room remained eerily silent.
I crawled forward until, after some time, my fingers found something beneath them.
A carving. I paused. I let my fingertips trace its shape, following the curves. I had no idea what it was, but I lowered myself onto it, resting my hands beside me. Then a chill ran down my spine. My fingertips felt markings in the floor. Scratches. Not part of the carving. Someone had dragged their nails across the wood. My throat tightened. Someone had been here before me. The pressure from the corset was painful, forcing me to take shallow breaths. I closed my eyes and remained still. The only sound I could hear was my own breathing, becoming more strained with each passing moment.
This felt like torture by itself. Maybe that was the point. He was probably somewhere in this room, watching.
Reveling in my pain. As time passed, it became harder to remain still, but adjusting was even worse, so I stayed where I was. I wondered how long I had been lying there. The darkness made time meaningless.
There was no sun. No sound. Nothing to tell me whether minutes or hours had passed. My thoughts returned home.
The farm. My father's tired smile. Summer was probably holding everything together for everyone. Were they worried about me? Was Rain stepping up now? Was she helping Father? My thoughts kept me occupied, creating one scenario after another in an endless loop. My sisters were laughing. Snow was chasing the chickens. Oakley was hiding out with the horses. Then I saw Father. He was standing alone in the fields, one hand pressed against his chest. He looked distressed. Then he fell forward onto his knees. And then he fell. He was still. But that wasn't my memory. Why wasn't anyone there? I tried to move. My body refused. "Father!" I screamed, but no sound left my mouth. The field remained silent. Too silent. The chickens stopped moving. The wind stopped. Even the clouds remained frozen. This was not real. "Father..." Snow came running down the field, her braid bouncing against her back. She looked terrified. She stopped before him, tears tracing down her cheeks.
"FATHER!" Her scream echoed across the field. "No, no, no. It's not real. This didn't happen," I whispered as a single tear ran down my neck. "Interesting, is it not?" His voice filled the room, pulling me away from the darkness.
"The way fear plays into the human mind. Is it real or not? Is it only a feeling, or can it create a prison inside someone's thoughts? Will it paralyze you? Or will it make you run for your life?" A low chuckle followed. "Is this amusing to you? Are you entertained, my King?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my attempt to remain composed. He ignored my question.
"You did not fear your own death when you entered this room." My breath caught.
"You feared what would happen to them without you, Lady Dawn." The darkness around me seemed to grow heavier. I looked back at the field. At my father. At my five sisters. The image of them standing there felt so real that my heart ached.
"What are you doing?" I whispered. "Showing you yourself." The wind moved again. But something felt wrong.
The field remained unchanged, yet everything around me seemed distant, as if I was looking at a reflection beneath moving water.
"You believe fear is something that happens to you," his voice continued.
"But fear is far more interesting than that." The ground beneath my hands disappeared.
I gasped as darkness swallowed everything. "The mind creates. The mind protects. The mind destroys." My breathing quickened. "No..." The field returned. But this time, my family stood before me in a line. My stomach dropped. They were not moving.
Not speaking. Just waiting. Waiting for me. Nicolaie's voice became quieter. "Let us see what you truly value." I shook my head. "No."
"You have not even heard the question." I already knew. Some part of me already knew. And that frightened me more than anything. "Choose one," he said. The words echoed across the empty field. "Choose who lives." I looked at my family. My father. My sisters. The people I had spent my entire life protecting. My chest tightened. "No." Silence.
Then his voice returned. "No?"
"I will not choose," I replied. "You misunderstand, Lady Dawn. The purpose of fear is to reveal what a person is willing to do when faced with impossible circumstances."
My hands trembled. "But they are not circumstances." I looked at my family. "They are my family." A quiet pause followed. "You would sacrifice them all rather than save one?" Tears burned my eyes.
"I would not sacrifice anyone." The wind moved through the field. My family remained still.
"You believe that makes you a better human?" "No." My voice shook. "I believe it makes me human." For a moment, nothing happened. Then my father fell. My entire body froze. "Father?" He collapsed onto the grass, and the world around me became silent.
"No..." I tried to run toward him. I tried to move. But my body remained trapped. "You see?" his voice whispered. "Even refusing to choose is still a choice." I shook my head violently.
"This isn't real." But my heart did not care. My father looked lifeless. And that pain was real. Then Summer screamed. I turned. "No!" Blood seeped from her body. One by one, they fell. More blood. More pain. The image of my family disappeared before my eyes, and every loss made my heart hammer violently inside my chest. But beneath the fear, beneath the grief, something remained. I had not decided that one of them mattered more. When the field finally became empty, I stood alone. The voice returned. "You are the last one standing." I closed my eyes. Tears fell freely. But my voice remained steady.
"No." A pause. "You still refuse?"
"I refuse your game." The silence stretched. "You would rather lose everything than choose one?" I opened my eyes. "Yes." The answer surprised even me.
"Because the moment I decide one of them is worth more than another, you win."