The fourth level of the Grand Palace was almost as dark as night, with the only light coming from torches mounted unusually low on the walls.
Along the narrow corridor, no paintings hung nor decorations. It was mostly empty and barren aside from a long stretch of doors that opened up to the bedchambers of the royal family.
After Stefan instructed Lord Flip to fetch the head of Jolial, he took the spiral stairs up to the top floor. When he finally approached the last door on the left, he aggressively shoved it open. Inside, everything looked the same as it did the day before. The unmade round bed standing in the center; open blue curtains pulled back that allowed soft light to spill through; and several books titled Before there was Chaos, By Death, and Tales of Nothing were scattered across a wooden table in the corner.
Princess Ely took after reading just like her mother, Queen Rosar.
***
It had been days since Stefan saw Princess Ely, four days since she stole from him in the Dreamworld. He still didn’t understand how she was able to manifest herself there without him knowing.
Was a drifter living under my nose? He kept asking himself.
Before he could fully understand what was transpiring, Ely took off with what he believed he had to ensure to remain out of King Jaho’s hands or the Arla he knew would perish.
As soon as he returned to the Living Realm, he ordered Crowine to find both Brielle and the Hunter. A Bloodseeker and a Shadowshifter. Two people who he believed would be able to easily find her. All he needed was something of Ely.
***
As soon as he entered the room that once belonged to Princess Ely, he hastily rummaged through her things, looking for something she recently wore, opening and closing every door he laid his eyes upon. It didn’t take long before he found a cream colored silk scarf she wore at the funeral in the wardrobe placed against the back wall.
As he held the soft fabric between his fingers, rubbing it gently between his fingertips, he did his best to choke back a whimper. The cream-colored scarf once belonged to Rosar.
“Rosar.” He breathed, before closing his eyes.
An image of flowers floating in the skies and a tiny woman wearing a tight fitted, coral mermaid dress with a white corset standing in a rose garden immediately appeared. It was the day he met Rosar.
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It was a hot day. His father had arranged for the two to meet in Gardenia, away from their homes, in a neutral setting to establish a healthy relationship between the heirs. When he arrived, she pretended as if she didn’t know who he was. He pretended he didn’t know her name. She asked if he thought she was pretty. He responded with a breathy laugh.
That day, he was not yet a man, yet no longer a boy. She was not yet a woman, yet no longer a girl. They were only Princess Rosar and Prince Stefan, still trying to figure out who they were.
But Stefan fell in love anyway.
As time slowly passed, he became enamored with her and came to adore everything about her. Her ruby eyes. How she would always carry a book with her to the palace. How her hair always managed to smell like oranges. How she loved to fish for Fymae pearls that would never appear but she kept trying anyway.
Then one day, everything suddenly changed. Rosar was no longer smiling, and the light in her eyes disappeared. The war arrived, and it was as if the love that was once there suddenly vanished. She was no longer Princess Rosar, only someone to be conquered. And he was no longer Prince Mel, only someone to tame.
As Stefan was consumed by his memories of Rosar, he didn’t notice when someone suddenly joined him. It took Lord Blyth to clear his throat loudly for him to realize, causing Stefan’s eyes to shoot open.
“Your Majesty!” Lord Blyth shouted, arms crossed in front of him. “I’m sorry to disturb you.”
Stefan looked over his shoulder.
“What is it? Has my son returned?”
Lord Blyth shook his head. “I’m afraid not, sir.”
“Has Brielle arrived?”
“No.”
“Is Lord Flip back?”
“No.”
Stefan suddenly slammed his hand against the wardrobe. “Then, what is it?”
Lord Blyth started to fidget with his wrinkled hands. “The ladies have arrived.”
Stefan raised an eyebrow. “Ladies?”
Lord Blyth smoothed down the ivory colored robe he was wearing.
“For your son, like you requested.” Lord Blyth motioned with his head towards the hall. “They are waiting downstairs.”
A smile slowly formed across Stefan’s youthful face.
“Send them to the Grand Hall.”
***
The Grand Hall was the largest room in the Grand Palace that wasn’t a bed chamber. Twelve crystallized chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each one dangling over one of twelve black tables holding vases of dead flowers that stood in a circle.
After Priestess Corrine arrived, she was instructed to wait in the room alone until the other guests arrived. As she sat alone, wearing a black high neck dress that was adorned with intricate lace in the pattern of a spiral, she repeatedly tapped her fingers against her legs. With each tap, a thread of white energy emerged. Conjuration magic.
It took Corrine less than a year to master her new power, the ability to conjure corporeal nightmares. But unlike her sisters, she mostly kept to herself, only using her power when needed.
After several minutes passed, Corrine was soon joined by five other women. Women of different tones, wearing different colored dresses, of different builds. The women were being led in the room by the same scrawny man that greeted Corrine. Corrine continued to tap her fingers as she watched from afar as the man was animatedly explaining something.
After he was done, he turned his head towards Corrine and motioned her to join them.
Corrine still had no idea why she was in the city of Azulae. Something didn’t feel right to her.