Page 63 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Arenna looked down at a woman lying in bed, her midnight hair cascading delicately across a white pillow. The woman resembled Arenna hauntingly, but it wasn’t her—no scar, no bruises. Different body, different everything.

The room where the woman slept was unfamiliar. It didn’t match any room in Brookworth or Castle Worden. The walls were a dazzling display of green stone, sparkling in the moonlight pouring through open windows.

Eerie, haunting noises echoed from the hallway outside the woman’s chambers—sounds that didn’t belong to the peace and serenity inside this small room. Arenna began to panic, hating how stuck and vulnerable she felt when one of these took hold.

In the hallucination, she could hear swords being drawn and blood spilling from unseen wounds.

Above the bed, she tried to cover her ears, desperate to drown out the violence she couldn’t bear to witness.

She couldn’t understand why she heard everything beyond the chamber door while the woman remained asleep.

Noticing the points of her Fae ears, Arenna grew frustrated that the female still wasn’t waking. Fae were granted exceptional hearing, so why wasn’t she moving? Why wasn’t she waking?

Boots thudded against the floor outside the chambers, and Arenna’s stomach sank. Whoever was beyond that door was no friend, and their intentions toward the female were far from kind.

Arenna screamed at her, “Wake up!” But when she caught her reflection in the vanity mirror, she realized her mouth wasn't moving.

She tried opening and closing it, tried screaming at the top of her lungs.

Though she could hear herself perfectly inside her head, no sound came out.

Panic surged through her as the doorknob slowly turned.

‘How can you not hear that?’ She wanted to shout.

The female didn’t stir.

The door crept open, shimmering light from the hallway spilling into the room, bathing a small patch of the floor in gold, yet darkness still dominated the chamber.

And again, she didn’t move.

A man, too large even for a Fae, stepped into the doorway, his face concealed by a thick hood. He walked to the edge of the bed, his gloved hand trailing from the sleeping female’s feet to her neck.

He brought a hand to her cheek, brushing it softly—too tenderly, filling Arenna with terror instead of comfort.

Arenna screamed at him, thrashing her arms as if she could tear through the hallucination to reach him. She didn’t know this female but everything felt wrong.

The world froze—the man stopped moving, the Fae stopped breathing. But Arenna remained, and this time, when she shouted, the sound echoed around the room, like a thousand voices speaking at once.

Still, the female did not stir. But the man, cloaked in darkness and strength, turned his head, removed his hood, and stared directly into Arenna’s eyes .

* * *

Bathed in sweat and goosebumps, Arenna opened her eyes. The first thing she saw were gauzy white curtains, gently blowing in the warm afternoon breeze. She immediately recognized that she was safe in her chambers in Worden.

She sat up, pressing a hand to her throbbing head as noises and silhouettes moved beyond the curtains around her bed.

One of the silhouettes paused, turning toward her at the sound of the mattress groaning.

The curtains were yanked back, revealing Selphia, wide-eyed.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked, climbing over the wooden footboard.

Shells and golden beads in her hair clinked as she settled into the soft folds of the duvet.

“I just drew you a bath and was getting ready to try and wake you again.”

Arenna laughed, then coughed, her throat still painfully raw. “ Seconds . How long have I been asleep?”

“Two days,” the chambermaid drawled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “How are you feeling?”

Morning bells rang in the distance, vibrating up Arenna’s spine and rattling her brain. “My head feels like it might explode,” she muttered, sitting up and pulling the soft duvet up her chest. Memories of her near burnout flooded back as she fully woke. “Where’s Kayson?”

Selphia placed a warm hand on Arenna’s forearm. “The king is at a council meeting. He won’t be out for another hour or so.” She smiled. “I was instructed to watch over you while you slept.”

Arenna massaged her temples, closing her eyes to ease the throbbing in her head. She remembered the power surging through her veins—roaring, yet suffocating and painful.

“Is something the matter?” Selphia’s dark eyes simmered with concern, and it cracked Arenna’s heart. She had been so foul upon arriving, so hateful toward the Fae and this kingdom, yet Selphia had never once treated her unkindly.

Arenna pulled the chambermaid’s hands into her own. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Just my head,” she said.

“I’ll ask Itta for a pain tonic.” Selphia hopped off the bed and headed toward the door.

“Oh, she also left a message for you. It’s on your night table.

” She started to step out, then whirled back.

“Goodness, one more thing! I picked out a gown for you already; it’s hanging in your bathing chamber.

” This time, when her turquoise gown drifted out the door, Selphia didn’t return, leaving Arenna in the quiet.

She reached over the mattress for the small piece of parchment on her night table.

When you are feeling better, Rodsan was instructed to show you a book in the library. I suggest you read it. You might even find it helpful.

Word had it that Worden’s walls held history books predating their world—past wars and ancient civilizations stretching far beyond the oceans bordering Pheanixios.

She was eager to explore it. Arenna tumbled out of bed, her footsteps wobbly and disoriented.

Her headache intensified when she stood, the pain sharp enough that she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her thumb into her forehead.

After the wave of pain passed, she hurried into the bathing chamber.

Selphia was a female born from light itself, she realized.

Arenna’s brush had been laid out, a bath drawn, and a gown hung from a metal hook at the back of the chamber.

A bottle of scented oil, a rag, and everything she might need to clean herself were also carefully arranged near the edge of the tub.

Tears welled in Arenna’s eyes as she ran a hand over the items, pausing at the tub. The sight made her ache for Isabella and love Selphia all the more. She dipped her hand into the copper tub, the water hot and inviting, steaming with lavender and vanilla.

Arenna discarded her night clothes, not bothering to think about who had dressed her, and eased into the scalding water. After minutes of mindless soaking, she scrubbed every inch of herself until no part of her skin was without the vanilla scent.

Despite the burning heat from the bath, Arenna could not brush off the constant shivering of her skin.

She leaned back, watching the colors dance on the bathwater’s surface from the stained glass window to her left.

Her mind was still filled with images from her earlier hallucination, its lingering grip refusing to let go.

Hallucinations were not new to her, but they usually faded quickly.

Ever since she had stopped taking her tonic, they clung to her for days.

Sometimes, she even saw them a second time, with more detail.

Arenna couldn’t forget the narrowed, hollow eyes of the man standing over the bed, nor could she shake the deep fear it stirred within her.

Arenna could not shake the feeling that wherever that man was, whoever he was, had been real—and this would not be the last time she saw him.