Young Writers Society

Author's Note: This chapter was an especially fun one to write. I went to a castle the other day to get some inspiration for the design of Telorum's castle, and I tried my best to incorporate what I saw. The room that's almost entirely modeled after one I saw is actually Orpheus's, but Cass's room is meant to be somewhat similar. I'm hoping I can use more of the castle's design in the upcoming chapters, but, for now, have fun with this!

(I also had fun writing the memory dream, since it's been quite some time since I wrote characters lowkey flirting with each other.)

Words: 1,672

Last Line(s): He hadn't turned his back on her with Prince Rodet.

She grabbed onto her locket again.

So why was he leaving her now? 

Her grip tightened.

Why did even her contracted not want to stay with her?

Chapter 14

She listened to the sound of King Kartiel's footsteps as he descended down the stairs, foolishly hoping that he would turn back around. It was only when the noise fully faded into silence that she accepted he had left her. The knot in her stomach grew. She knew she shouldn't have been so disheartened, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been abandoned without a single regret.

She turned back to the door.

It was an unassuming door. If she had let the castle disappear on the corners of her vision, and replaced its stone walls with smooth white ones, she could have been standing in front of her own bedroom. The door was a similar shade of brown, and roughly the same height. When she removed her hand from the locket and grasped the doorknob, it was just as cool. She lingered in front of the door for another moment, letting herself imagine that she was back on Earth, and back in the comfort of her own home. Her magic wouldn't matter. She wouldn't be the future contracted of an evil king. And she wouldn't be separated from Aspen, the one person she felt she could trust on both her world and this one.

But the illusion could only last so long.

She turned the doorknob. The door opened inwards with a soft creak. Cass didn't immediately enter, instead surveying the room from the doorway. She tried her best to ignore the brief flicker of disappointment when it looked nothing like her own. Her bedroom was easily dwarfed by this one—this was nearly double the size. Bookcases lined two out of the four walls, flanking her on the left and on the right. To the back was a set of magnificent windows; in front of them was what she assumed was a bed. It was nothing like what she was used to. There was no headrest or footrest, and it wasn't tucked into the corner of the room like hers was. It was a series of cushions put inside of the enormous window, going from one window trimming to the other. A thick quilt was folded on one half, and the other was populated with an abundance of pillows. 

She finally entered the room.

Now the last hour was catching up with her—the bed was looking more and more appealing. She walked across the room, wooden floor silent under her feet, and stopped in front of the mattress. She hesitantly picked up one of the pillows. The fabric was just as soft as it had appeared to be, and surprisingly warm. She kept in her arms as she continued to survey the room. Its picturesque beauty was quickly ruined when she noticed the armoire shoved into a nearby corner, and the mirror haphazardly positioned in the parallel corner. The few stray books finished the scene, peeking out from underneath the bookcases, under the armoire and even underneath her makeshift bed.

The room must have been used for something else before she came, and it only took a glance back at her closed door to realize that the Dark Mage had been its last owner. His room was right across the hallway, and King Kartiel had said he had prepared it for her.

Any comfort she had felt was gone in an instant.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her sneakers and resting her head on the pillow's top. Her heart said to trust him—his voice was calm, soothing and familiar. But that had to have been the king's memories. She would never view him in that light. Knowing that he was hiding something underneath his cloak made her feel uneasy, and Lira's stories only made him all the more terrifying.

...even though he hadn't harmed her.

(Yet.)

She fell back onto the sea of pillows and stared up at the familiar ceiling. She wished Aspen was here. Her best friend would know what to do. But all she had was herself, and she wasn't even sure if she could trust her own judgment now that it had been touched by the king's memories. Cass let out a tired sigh. Maybe a good night's sleep would make things better. She unfolded the quilt and wrapped it tight around her, hands reaching for the nearest pillow to hug as she tried to get comfortable. But instead of holding a pillow, she found herself hugging a small plush dragon. Everything about it looked homemade—the button eyes, the soft fabric, the lines carefully sewn in and the initials sewn on the bottom of one of its feet. 

She didn't question why it was there. She just held it close to her, letting it be her sole companion as sleep quickly overtook her.

xXx

She gazed at empty room before her, studying its painfully familiar walls and imagining the furniture it had once held. There had been the bed tucked into the corner, laden with a plethora of stuffed animals that were now hidden in the depths of her closet. There had the beautiful mahogany dresser crafted by her grandfather, a gift for the grandchild he never lived to see. Then there had been her most prized possession of all—the chest that had held every single one of her childhood costumes. She had gone on so many adventures in this room, slaying foul creatures and protecting the kingdom from any foe. The recollection made a smile flicker across her lips, if just for a moment. She didn't want to linger longer on it, or the memories of her parents would taint those happier times, too.

Part of her knew, somewhere, that lingering this much on the past wasn't healthy and that Fate knew she had to eventually open up to someone. But it had been a very long time since she had last been remotely close enough to someone to share something so personal; she wasn't sure she ever would again-

“You know,” a voice said from behind, “I've never seen a picture of your parents.”

She spun around. It wasn't a sin to reminiscence on childhood memories, but she felt like she was a committing a crime by standing in the middle of this room. She must have looked like an idiot, daydreaming in her childhood bedroom instead of doing something regal. She frantically hurried to compose herself. She knew the damage had already been done, but she could at least try to look a bit more dignified. 

“I don't like paintings all that much,” she hurriedly lied, then cursed herself moments later. That was a horrible excuse! She should have come up with something more creative-

He raised an eyebrow. 

Yeah, she knew that one wasn't really going to fly.

“You have paintings in your bedroom,” he pointed out. He leaned up against the doorway and looked her over. “And you have some hanging in the hallway leading to the throne room.”

“Those are priceless heirlooms,” she quickly shot back, feeling rather smug about how convincing that lie had to be. “They've been around for centuries, and some from even longer—most are from before the rule of Kartiel II. I'd even go as far as saying that they're from before Aldonius's time.”

“Uh-huh,” he slowly said, crossing his arms.

She smiled. Now he would drop the topic, and they could focus on other more important matters

“Wouldn't paintings of your parents be priceless heirlooms?”

She faltered. “Uh, yeah. I guess.” She knew how his brain worked; he was going to ask where the paintings were. She scrambled to come up with a good way to deflect any comments. “If they existed, that is. You saw the one of the last king when I gave you the grand tour, but my mom never wanted to be painted.”

“Weird.”

“You're weird,” she instinctively shot back. Then she stifled a groan—why did she have to have the maturity of a five year old? Now he was going to laugh at her. She could already see the beginnings of it now: the smile stretching from one ear to the other, the way his shoulders heaved for a brief second, and the way his mouth opened and closed while the sound hesitated before erupting into a hearty laugh. Her cheeks turned red as the laughter predictably came.

“You must be younger than me,” he said in between laughs. “I can't imagine anyone older ever saying something like that!”

She crossed her arms. “I'm pretty sure I'm the older one here.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded. 

He stroked his chin. “I don't know. I'd guess you're the same age as my little cousin, going off of the face you're giving me right now.” She opened her mouth to protest the assumption, but he didn't even give her a chance to respond. “If you're not, then how old are you?”

She looked right into his beautiful blue eyes and give him a smile that bordered on a smirk. “Didn't you know it's rude to ask someone how old they are?”

“Oh, come on, Kart!” he begged. He was doing that pout he always did, but she wasn't going to fall for it this time. “You have to tell me eventually.” 

It was time for a little payback. She leaned in close—his eyes lit up the moment he thought he was going to get an answer. She took a deep breath. He straightened considerably. 

Then she whispered into his ear, “A king never reveals his secrets~” 

He groaned and shook his head.

“I don't know what else you were expecting me to say,” she further teased, grabbing onto his hand and leading him towards the door. “You know I hate talking about myself. It's far more fun talking about you and your kingdom. Now, we probably should hurry—Dari wanted me to bring you to his shop today.”

Before he could get another word in, she darted out into the hallway and dragged him down the stairs to the main hallways of the castle.