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Knock! Knock! Knock!

I roll over with a groan, annoyed at whomever is waking me from the deepest sleep I’ve had in years. I don’t even remember if a nightmare graced me last night in my comatose state. I’m assuming not since my heart rate isn’t spiking at the moment.

Perhaps I should try staying awake for three days straight more often if it keeps the nightmares at bay.

How long have I been asleep?

I look at the light gray seeping through the large balcony windows of the chambers I was given.

I must admit that the room is quite lovely.

The bed is adorned in a dark maroon canopy that overlays the iron framing rods.

The bedding is also a dark maroon with intricate golden details woven into the design.

Along the corners of the room sit beautiful vases with Arabian Night dahlias that remind me of The Violet Lily.

The maids were kind enough to leave me to sleep after a much-needed bath, but I still found myself staring at the arrangements—thinking of the life and family that I miss—as I drifted off to sleep.

Knock! Knock!

I bury my head under the soft feather pillow.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“For the good of all that is holy in Celestae, just enter already and stop knocking!” I yell.

“Well, good morning to you too, Rosey,” a rich voice calls from the doorway.

“High General,” I groan. “Go away.”

“I assumed that you’d be bright-eyed this morning, considering you’ve slept almost an entire day,” he replies.

I come out from underneath the pillow and glance where Emyr rests his large frame against the door, already dressed in his armor and helmet.

Why must he wear that infuriating armor every bloody day?

“High General, did I really sleep through an entire day?” I jest.

“Yes,” he replies. “I came to check on you when dinner was served, and you were snoring so loudly that I could hear you in the corridor.”

My lips curl into a sneer. “I don’t snore!” I retort.

Emyr points to his armored jaw. “The dried drool on your chin would suggest otherwise,” he deadpans.

My hand flies up to my chin, and I’m quite perturbed that the bloke isn’t lying. I dip my face down so he hopefully doesn’t witness the heat crawling along my entire face. He chuckles at my expense, which only further infuriates me.

“What do you want?” I snap. “Is there a reason for you to be here at this moment?”

“I’ve come to inform you that breakfast will be brought to you shortly. You’re to eat and get dressed. I’ll be back to escort you to meet the king around midday,” he says.

I’m going to be sick.

Not on those lovely sheets, you’re not, Saoirse scolds .

Stay out of my thoughts, I reply.

In the comfort of this bed, I almost forgot why I’m here. King Tiernan brought me to the palace—not out of the kindness of his heart, but for some purpose I don’t yet know.

“What does he desire from me?” I inquire.

“That is unclear to me,” he says quickly.

I tilt my head. “Would you tell me if you knew?”

He doesn’t look away as he answers. “Yes. I’m sorry I’m not of much help. However, it would seem that he only desires to share his ‘plans’ with you.”

I nod my head, running my fingers through my waves that are now matted from sleep and travel.

My hands are clammy as I ponder all of the possibilities as to what the king desires from me.

Does he wish to mold me into a weapon like Emyr?

Would he force me to hurt an innocent person?

I still don’t understand why I’m the one to awaken the Na Fíréin. Surely, there is someone more suited to the task than myself.

As if hearing my thoughts, Emyr whispers, “There’s nothing to fear. I’ll be with you the entire time.”

I’ll be with you too, my dear, Saoirse’s voice echoes across my mind.

If that’s true, where have you been the last few days? I ask.

Saoirse hasn’t uttered a word since Delerauh until this morning, despite my attempts to speak with her.

Resting, she replies.

Why do you need to rest? I inquire.

To build up my strength for when you need me the most, she says.

How will you know when I need you, Saoirse? I ask.

I don’t, she replies. But I need to be prepared for when that day comes… I have a premonition that it’ll be soon, my dear.

Suddenly, I feel woozy . What’s going to happen? I ask.

I wish I knew, my dear. However, the pull I feel toward you is growing stronger. I fear it won’t be long, she replies .

I’ve also noticed my connection to the strange voice is stronger lately. However, I just assumed it was because I figured out how to recognize her presence in my mind. What if all of this is just to prepare me for the dark days she constantly speaks of? And what is her role in all of this?

Don’t fret over what is yet to happen, dearest Maeva, Saoirse coos. When you need me most, I’ll bring you home.

Her comment reminds me of the words Gawain whispered in my ear at Delerauh:

“Come to the ruins when you’re ready. The voice will guide you home to us.”

Was he talking of the ruins that Emyr brought me through on our journey to the palace?

Why the secrecy? And where is home ?

Is it the same one that Saoirse just spoke of?

Who is he referring to when he mentions us ?

“Maeva, are you alright?” Emyr asks. His eyes roam over me with such curiosity, and I wonder if he can hear my racing heart or see the sweat pooling in my palms.

I offer him a tight-lipped smile. “Yes, I’m sorry. I just get lost in my thoughts sometimes,” I reply.

It’s as close as I can get to the truth without it being a complete lie.

There are so many mysteries and secrets that surround me. A few weeks ago, I was just a Null living in Aurelius with a family and a shop.

How drastically my life has changed…

I dreamt of grand adventures that accompanied an extraordinary life, but now, I’d give anything to have one more meal with my family in that little village. Amelia and Rolph would know what to say to ease my mind and heart in this burdening moment.

I’ve been chosen by Siorai to awaken the Na Fíréin… Whatever that means.

I’ve been given a rare ability, yet I don’t wear the signet tattoo on my skin .

There’s something I am missing—a piece to the puzzle that I have yet to unlock.

I just hope I figure it out sooner rather than later.

“Where do you go when you drift away?” Emyr murmurs. “You always look so?—”

Emyr pauses, as if trying to find the right word.

“At ease?” I tease.

He shakes his head. “Frightened,” he deadpans.

As I open my mouth to respond, an orc maid walks in with a tray of food, as another maid trails behind her with a lovely satin dress, the deepest shade of crimson. “Gooooiiidddd mooooiiiirrnnnnn’ tiooooo yoooeeeuuuu, Mieeess Caaaiiiilllleee,” she beams.

“Hello,” I reply.

The head maid offers me one of the most horrifying grins I’ve ever seen, but I know she means it to be comforting.

It took me by surprise yesterday to see such creatures roaming the halls, but I’ve found the majority of the staff to be kind.

At least, I assume they are since none have threatened to eat me yet.

She sets the tray of porridge and fruit in front of me; the sight causes my stomach to growl.

A small groan of delight escapes my lips as I devour the meal before me.

Truly, it’s some of the best porridge I’ve ever eaten.

I didn’t realize how famished I was until that first warm morsel hit my tastebuds.

“Enjoying yourself, Rosey?” Emyr teases.

I honestly forgot that he’s still here.

The head maid glances at him. “Eeeeeiimmmeeyyyyrrr, yooeeeuuu muiist leeeaaaiivvee. Weeeiii neeeeiidddd to heeeiillp heeeeuuurr dreeeiiss,” the maid scolds.

He chuckles. “Okay, Tilly. I’ll leave.”

Tilly’s complexion deepens into what I assume is a blush as she makes a snorting sound that I suppose is a laugh.

He turns his gaze to me, winking once. “I will be back to retrieve you in an hour,” he says, exiting the chamber. “Don’t leave this room until I arrive. I’d hate for a spirit to torment you without cause.”

I laugh, smiling at the slight flutter in my chest.

Perhaps the High General has a heart after all.