Chapter Eighteen ~ Kiara

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Kiara woke with an odd feeling inside of her, and she instantly knew that she hadn't been sleeping for only twelve hours. It felt like she hadn't been awake for an entire day; 24 complete hours. But what had happened in the time she wasn't supposed to be sleeping? She couldn't remember; she didn't know where she was and she was starting to get a little frightened.

"H- Hello?" she called, rubbing her eyes before opening them. She was in a large room that had a dark, purplish glow to it. There were no windows and there were two large double doors at the end of the room. At the other end, a throne sat upon a ledge, made of what looked to be white marble. She only hoped that was white marble.

She rose to her feet, heading over to the double doors quickly. She wasn't wearing any shoes, and instead of wearing what she had been wearing the previous day, she was suited into a long black medieval dress that had a loose line of white come around her waist to end at the hem of the black dress that hit the ground and spread out an extra inch on the floor. The dress itself didn't stick to her figure but wasn't enhanced in size either, so it didn't make her waist and buttocks look bigger. The sleeves stopped at the top of her hands but dragged on much longer beneath them, flopping about as she walked. The dress curved around her neck and dropped down about three inches from her throat so that it looked comfortable and not as if she were being choked to death. Although she would have preferred it. Why was she wearing such a dress, and why didn't she know where she was? She specifically remembered walking with Rye and Enzo behind her, heading for Hagon. She couldn't possibly be there, could she? She would have remembered the whole day she had missed out on, and since she couldn't recall any of it, she knew something wasn't right and was intent on discovering what it was that needed to be exposed.

She pushed at the wooden doors; they rattled, but wouldn't give way. Barred from the other side, it seemed. Kiara growled and swung herself around, stepping back in surprise as she noticed a man standing before her, his arms crossed over his chest as a light smirk settled on his face. His hair, in the very little light the room had, revealed to be a dirty kind of blonde that was brushed back and tied up in a little tail, two strands out on either side of his face to frame it. His eyes looked almost black, but Kiara knew that they had a tinge of red in them that was just hard to define in the little light provided. His clothes consisted of a loose, long-sleeved white shirt tucked into a pair of light brown trousers, held up with suspenders as a pair of black boots his trousers were tucked inside of housed his feet. He looked cocky, to say the least, with his sharp features and thin lips twisted into a wry smile. He knew something that Kiara didn't, obviously, and as he soaked in her dress, Kiara scowled.

"Who are you, where am I and why am I here?" she demanded, and the man grinned, rows of even white teeth flashing in response.

"So many questions," he mused, his voice light and tangy. "You may call me Jaspar; everyone does. And as for where you are?" He grinned ruefully. "Why, you are in Montilo, of course. Pandora's Palace, to be exact."

Kiara turned her head and stared at the man who was called Jaspar.

"No," she murmured. "No, it is not possible. I was near a week away from Montilo only a day ago; you are lying."

"Oh, but I am not," Jaspar mused, then un-crossed his arms, gesturing them around the room as he moved his head upwards. "This is the throne room, in fact. Cosy, is it not?"

"If this is Pandora's Palace," Kiara hissed, shaking her arms to get the sleeves of her dress out of her way, "then where is the woman? I wish to see her."

"I am afraid she is not available at the moment," Jaspar stated disappointingly. "She is organising your death."

Kiara paled. She really was at Pandora's Palace, wasn't she?

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