The morning sun cast bright streaks across the room, spilling through the tall windows and settling upon her bed.
Her amber eyes were wide open, her breath lodged tight in her throat.
And there he was – standing near her, his face inches away from hers.
The man's gaze bored into her. The hollow eye socket… wasn't hallow anymore. Flesh had mended where there had been nothing. The sight sent a shiver crawling across her spine.
She could not move. Could not even blink.
For a heartbeat, something strange rippled inside her chest. As she stared at him, into the face lined with fatigue, she thought she saw someone else. A memory.
Calen.
The memory flickered and was gone in an instant, like a candle snuffed out. The realization snapped her back into the present. Fear overrode her mind.
Her lips parted, drawing in air sharply, before she was about to break the silence with a scream –
His hand clamped over her mouth.
"Don't," he whispered, urgent but quiet. His voice was coarse, edged with desperation. "Please… please stay silent. I swear I don't mean any harm."
Her eyes flared. She struggled against him, but he held just long enough till the panic in her movements dulled.
"Please…", he whispered before slowly withdrawing his hand.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her throat tightening again, ready to scream.
His palm pressed back over her mouth at once.
"Stop," he hissed. "I'll let you go, but you can't scream. Please try to understand. This is as confusing for me as it is for you. If you call them, I'm as good as dead."
Her chest heaved, her nails biting into the sheets. Yet she nodded, just barely.
Another pause.
This time, when he lifted his hand away, her lips trembled, but she didn't scream. The silence between them felt… fragile.
He stepped back – far back – until the distance itself became a gesture of truce. He stopped at the other end of the room, leaning into the shadows near the window.
"Is this better?" His voice was low.
She slowly straightened on the bed, before giving a shallow nod.
"Good.", she muttered.
A beat passed. Then another.
"My name's Elias," he finally started. "I don't… I don't know what's going on. Or how I even ended up here."
She narrowed her eyes.
"I'm serious," he pressed. "One moment I was in hell, I don't even know how to explain it. Somewhere they called the Ninth Circle. Then I stumbled someplace, and before I could figure out where I was… I was just –"
He spread his hands helplessly.
"– here in your room. Like I was dragged through a hole in the world."
Her lips tightened; suspicion thick in her stare.
"I swear," he said again. "Before that, I was chained. Tortured. By a man who looked ready to carve me apart and a woman who –" His throat worked. "She wore a mask. Like a plague doctor's mask."
Her hands tightened around the sheets. "Do you take me for a fool?" Her voice was calm but sharp as a glass. "Do you really think you can fool me with this imaginative tale of yours?"
Elias flinched. "I – I didn't mean –" He swallowed hard. "Look, I know it sounds insane. If I were you, I wouldn't believe it either. But it's the truth. I don't have clever words, or proof, or whatever it is you want from me. "I just… have what I saw. What I lived through."
Her gaze didn't waver. The weight of the crown hung in it. "Then tell me why. Why you're here. Why now. Why in my room. If your tale is true, fate itself must've dragged you through fire and shadow just to land you at me bedside. That is too neat to be a coincidence."
Elias ran a hand through his hair, messy and frantic. "I don't know!" The words burst out, unpolished and laced with frustration. "I don't know any of this that is happening. I'm not hiding anything. I barely even know who you are!"
He realized the weight of what he'd said too late. "I just… know that if I start lying, if I start pretending to be someone I'm not, then I'm done for. So I'd rather risk sounding like a madman than act like the kind of snake you already have too many of."
For a moment, she only studied him. The flicker of her amber eyes was calculating. Something within her told her to trust him. That he wouldn't pose a danger to her, or her nation. The rawness in his words were clumsy, the kind of honesty she had rarely ever seen.
"I've seen men beg for mercy with the same look in their eyes, only to strike when I turned away."
"Then don't turn away," Elias said quickly. His voice cracked. "Keep your eyes on me the whole time if you have to."
The room was silent except for the shallow beat of their breathing. Her gaze lingered on him for a second longer.
At last, she let out a slow breath. "Very well then. Let me introduce myself. My name is Solane. Crown Princess of this kingdom."
His brows knit, the name hanging heavy in the air.
He exhaled slowly. "Do you know about the woman I mentioned earlier. The one in the mask? Do you know anything about her?"
Solane's eyes narrowed faintly. "I don't know anyone who matches that description. Perhaps your mind invents shadows to excuse your fear."
Elias bristled. "I'm not making this up."
She didn't answer, only tilted her head with a quiet, patient expression.
Elias dragged in a breath and pressed on. "Like I said, I was in this place before. A castle, but empty. No signs of life. It just… pulled me in. There was something… wrong about it. It was exactly like this castle. Just… completely abandoned and destroyed."
Solane had been composed, until that last sentence landed. Her fingers curled against the sheets.
Elias didn't notice as he was too caught in his explanation. "And then… a voice in my head. Like a system. Words, instructions formed out of thin air."
But Solane wasn't listening to the "system." Not really. The mention of the castle had hollowed the breath in her lungs. Her mother's fragmented whispers echoed through her mind.
Her grip on the sheets tightened until her knuckles whitened. For a second, Elias could swear her amber eyes looked almost… haunted.
Then –
A sharp knock at the door shattered the tense atmosphere.
"Your Highness?" Renna's voice. "It's me. Are you awake? Please – open the door."
Solane's blood ran cold.
Her eyes snapped to Elias. His body stiffened.
"Hide," she hissed.
"Where?" he glanced quickly around the chamber. The cupboards were obvious.
"Anywhere!"
Another knock, louder this time.
And then, there was Vanith's voice. "Your Highness! It's quite late. Open the door."
Elias' jaw clenched. He moved towards the cupboard, but Solane stopped him with a shake of her head. It was too obvious.
"Under the bed," Solane whispered harshly. She dropped to her knees.
At the last second, he slid under, pressing himself flat.
The door finally swung open.
General Vanith burst in. Solane stood awkwardly beside her bed, her hands clenched behind her back.
"My apologies, Princess," Vanith said. "But I must inspect your chambers."
She stiffened. "Inspect? For what reason?"
His gaze flickered across the room. He began opening cupboards and pulling aside the curtains. His every motion was deliberate, bent on finding even the smallest evidence.
Her heartbeat hammered in her ears.
"You presume too much," she snapped suddenly. Her voice cut sharp through the morning air. "I'm your Princess. Have you forgotten where you stand and where I do?"
Vanith paused. His broad back stiffened.
Then, slowly, he straightened. "I mean no offence. It is only precaution for someone may have infiltrated your chambers. Much has happened…"
Her jaw clenched. "Has your kindness from yesterday already faded? Has something shifted in the span of a few hours?"
"…More than you know," he murmured, low enough for nobody to hear it.
For a heartbeat, she almost pressed further. But his tone chilled her. He seemed like a completely different person.
For a moment, she faltered, tempted to press him further. But the raw heaviness in his tone stopped her tongue.
Meanwhile, beneath the bed, Elias' nerves got the better of him. His legs twitched, just enough for his leg to peek past the edge of the bedframe. Solane's eyes widened. Without turning her gaze away from Vanith, she shifted her foot back sharply and kicked Elias' leg back in.
Pain jolted through him. He nearly yelped as his mouth opened in reflex, but he bit down hard on his tongue.
Vanith, thankfully, hadn't noticed. He moved to the far side of the room, inspecting a dark corner.
Solane let out a slow breath, trying to mask it as irritation.
And then –
A small rustle.
Vanith stopped.
His head turned sharply back towards the bed.
Her heart stopped.
Vanith turned instantly, his head snapping towards the source of the sound.
"It was me," Solane said quickly. "A gown brushing the frame, nothing more."
Vanith ignored her. He pushed her aside and lowered himself.
"General!" she barked. "Stand down! That is an order –"
But it was too late.
His eyes caught the figure curled beneath the bedframe.
His expression stiffened while his hand tightened on his blade.
"Guards! Now."