A Princess' Tale

Chapter Eighteen

My nights became sleepless.

I dreamed things I couldn't remember, yet they always woke me hours before sunrise. I struggled to get anymore rest afterwards.

However, there was one awful nightmare I recalled so vividly, enough to wake me in tears.

I saw a village in flames. I saw innocent people cut down. I saw children torn from their mother's grasp and shown no mercy. Worst of all, I saw a baby wailing on the ground, left behind as the rest of the villagers were killed. Then I saw the attackers... and the purple rags shielding their identities. The sounds of painful howls threw me back into reality.

I cried out. Philip gasped and sat upright, pulling me closer without question.

In the dining hall later that morning, I asked if any devastating fires had occurred. Lord Berney eyed me warily.

Lord Browne cleared his throat. "Well, earlier this year, there was word that a village in Penuriam had been destroyed. Everyone had lost their lives that night."

I widened my eyes. "Everyone?"

He nodded.

"Why did no one inform me about this?"

"It occurred in Penuriam, Your Majesty," Lord Berney stated, shaking his head.

I glowered at him. "What is that supposed to mean? Penuriam is still a part of Aristol and those people are still my people."

"Very well, Your Majesty. However, there is no need for grief now. It has been months."

Fayre turned her body toward me, and I saw her eyebrows twitch together. "Why are you asking about that now? How did you find out?"

I blinked and looked away. If I admitted the truth, they would laugh and try to convince me it had been a coincidence. There was certainly no possible way I could've dreamed about that same fire. I honestly hadn't expected them to give me an answer when I had asked, though. Could I have truly dreamed about what had occurred? If I had, why? Why now?

If everyone had died, then that baby...

"I'm not sure," I whispered. Then I scooted my chair backwards and stood. Philip and Fayre began to follow, but I urged them not to.

"I need some air," I said. "Please excuse me."

"You've hardly eaten anything," Philip said, gesturing to my plate. "Are you feeling ill? Would you like me to call for Dr. Rolfe?"

"No, not at all, my love." I reached toward him and touched his cheek. "I will be fine after a short walk."

Lily rushed over to my side, holding up my green velvet cloak. I thanked her as I took it and threw it around my shoulders. She curtsied and stepped aside, and I walked out of the dining hall alone.

---
I had so much to get done. I felt behind, something my mother never allowed to happen to her.

Even so, I couldn't fight the urge to close my eyes as I attempted to read through documents. I caught myself a few times, and after a while, I heard someone enter my study and address me.

I flinched in my chair and glanced up at Lord Berney.

"You are not getting much work done, are you?" he asked.

"I am working, though," I said. "I am working—" then I covered my mouth to shield my yawn. My eyes blurred, and I blinked hard various times.

Lord Berney peered down at my desk. "Although I am well aware that much of this is time sensitive, I suggest you retire to your bedchamber and rest."