My skin feels as if it’s covered in dew as I awake from my sleep. Which is weird, last I checked I had a fan blasting right at me in my hot room, completely drying out the place. My bed isn’t near a window, so the only thing I can think of is that there’s a leak in the ceiling.
I open my eyes. I’m not in my room.
I’m in the depths of a forest, a small opening in the wake of densely packed trees. The scent of moist earth hits my nose. I push myself up and notice ruffles of light green fabric — chiffon, most likely — move with me. I glance down at the garment I’m wearing.
This is not my body.
“You have awaken, maiden!” A call comes from behind me.
I turn to see a man, easily 6’5”, with a broad, muscled chest and red hair, wearing the kind of clothes I see people wear to Renaissance Fairs, approach me.
He kneels down, grabbing my hands with his large, calloused ones to help me up.
I am not used to men touching me like this. I do not want him to touch me.
“Who the hell are you?” I ask.
“I am Odelgar, High Prince of the Dropan Court. I found you here in the Ringwell Wilds.”
I raise a brow. Who, what, where, when and why???
“Please, let me take you to my kingdom and have the doctors examine you.” He continues.
I look down at my stupid green outfit, but cannot see my feet because of the massive jugs I have evidently been gifted in this world.
“Fine.” I say.
If he’s gonna kill me, hopefully it’s relatively painless.
~~
I sat behind him for about three hours on the back of his horse. He calls it his ‘great steed’. I don’t like horses.
We parade through the city, looking like something out of Lord of the Rings, and people stare us down as we approach the massive, gray-brick castle that towers into the sky.
“My liege.” Everyone that helps us keeps on calling him this.
We enter what must be the grandest room in the castle, massive in square footage and height, decorated with gold and jewel-toned stuff. An empty throne sits at the end.
“I must give word to my father, alas, he is not here.” The Prince says.
“And for the better!” Someone shouts as they charge through one of the mosaic windows.
I wince. Unfortunate to see such beauty destroyed.
A man, once again, 6’5”, broad-shouldered, muscled, but with black hair, lands gracefully on the carpet.
He turns around, the crowd of servants gasping.
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“Aplin! Prince of the Royal Court of Twilight!” Odelgar calls.
“Tis I.” Aplin begins, “I am here to claim my findings.”
His violet eyes narrow on me.
I scrunch my nose. “Since when did you find me?”
As I finish my sentence, he gallops forward and swoops me up, jumping out another mosaic window and landing on a steed below.
“Couldn’t have gone out the one you came in?” I ask.
I don’t think he hears me.
~~
Once again, I am on the back of a steed, galloping towards another Court.
We pull over for a water break.
“I must admit,” Aplin begins, “You are the truest beauty I’ve ever laid eyes on. Soft, gentle, petite, not a day over twenty, I presume?”
“Last I checked I was twenty-eight—”
“Oh, gods!” He looks as if he is about the throw up.
“— But I have appeared to age backwards.” I finish flatly.
“Whew, thank the almighty God of youth.” He says.
“Okay.”
He disappears into the brush, and I consider just running away. Instead, I kneel on the ground, praying to whatever Gods are above us.
“Please,” I say, “Whoever sent me here, take me home. This world is not for me. I’ve heard of girls making blood sacrifices for their dream fantasy worlds, and this is not mine. I —”
“My maiden best not be speaking to other men upon my return.” Alpine or whatever-his-name-is says.
His eyes shoot down directly to my bosom, which is barely covered by this chiffon, by the way.
“And if I were?” I ask flatly.
“I’d have to kill them.” He says.
He throws me back on the horse, and we take off.
“How old are you?” I ask, leaning into his pointed ear.
“Five hundred and sixty-seven.” He says.
“And you want a twenty year-old human woman?” I say.
“Perfectly so.” He purrs.
“Jesus.” I say.
“Who’s that?”
~~
We arrive in a different castle, white not gray, and ascend to another court, filled with more gold and jewel-toned crap. The throne is empty again.
“We got here quicker than expected,” Aplin begins, “Luckily you weigh but a hundred pounds, anymore and it would’ve slowed down my steed.”
“Thank the Gods, am I right?” I say dryly.
“You silver tongued angel,” He gets close to me, tilting my chin up to him. “I am so lucky to have found the perfect woman.”
“Ugggghh.” I take a step backwards, “Once again, you didn’t find me. I am not yours. I don’t even know who you are.”
“But I am Prince Ap—”
“Ha ha!” A shout comes as someone breaks through the mosaic window.
A man with long blonde hair, a broad, muscled chest, and the same height as this one, lands gracefully on the purple carpet.
“Aplin, you have taken what is mine.” He looks at me.
“Okay, I am none of yours.” I say, “And I have no idea who the hell you are.”
“I am Rueben, Prince of the High Sun Court—”
“Save it.” I say, spinning on my feet and barging towards the door, “I’m outta here.”
“M’lady!” Alpin and Rueben exclaim at the same time.
They appear in front of me, stopping me in my tracks.
“What do you want!” I shout.
“Maiden!” The shattering of another mosaic window behind me interrupts us.
I turn around, and it’s the first Prince. The red head. Whatever his name was.
He jogs towards me, bouncing with every step, whipping his flowing hair out of his face, and joins the other two.
“Maiden, let me duel these two wretches for you.” The blonde one hisses in their direction.
“Maiden, stay with me and you will have everything you desire, and then some.” The black-haired one winks.
“Maiden, I found you first.” The redhead says.
“Listen, I’m in the wrong place,” I begin, “What if I were to tell you that I’m a twenty-eight year-old—”
“Ewwww.” The three men say in unison.
“— woman, who lives in a timeline with cars and technology…”
“What are cars?” The blonde one asks.
“Who is not from this world, and very much wants to get back.”
Before the men can speak, the sun sparkles through the windows, rays flashing like a strobe light. The air turns cold behind me, and I am hit with a gust of wind. I turn around, praying it isn’t a fourth one.
“Emily Mitchelson?” A woman wearing dark, glittery robes asks.
“Yea?” I raise a brow.
“There’s been a mistake.” The woman says.
The men all surround me, hands on the hilts of their swords.
“Who is this wench?” The black-haired one asks, throwing himself in front of me.
I push him away, “Okay, BACK OFF.”
“Please,” I turn my attention to the woman, “Please tell me you’re here to take me back.”
“I am.” The woman says, “Unfortunately, due to my error, I sent the wrong Emily Mitchelson to this world.”
“Oh my God, thank you!” I exclaim, pushing the other two Princes aside.
“You didn’t trade your soul to be put in a faerie world, right?” The woman asks me.
“NO!” I shout.
“Alright, let’s go then.”