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Chapter Once
Arlette’s P.O.V.
Arlette was awake.
She turned lazily on her side, uncommonly feeling at complete peace. Her slumber had been heavy and seemingly long, but she was still tired, as if had carried a mountain over her shoulders. Arlette tried to ignore it though, and as she faced down on the soft, ample bed, she ran both her arms up and down, like a bird warming up its wings, feeling the soft and unfamiliar texture with her hands. Longing to stay here longer and sleep, she stopped.
Arlette turned and faced up and her heart panicked a little as it slowly started to hammer against her chest. Where was she? She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. The room smelled of something vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. The room was deadly silent, and the only thing she could hear was her jumping heart. She slowly started to slide to the edge of the bed, her bare feet touching the cold, marble floor. She flinched, not expecting it. But regardless, pressed both of them against the floor, standing up.
Dizziness instantly took over her, overwhelming her, and she trembled. Without minding the nausea, she gave a small step forward. After all, she needed to get out of here, she needed to escape. She gave another step, the feeling too overwhelming now. Her legs wobbled—they were tired and swollen.
She took deep breaths, trying to relax her tense muscles. Arlette tried to take another step, but not before she heard a voice that made her come to a bold halt, making her heart resonate through her ears.
“You never give up, do you?”
That’s why it smells familiar in here. It smells like darkness—like him.
The voice came from somewhere in the same room, but Arlette could hear it everywhere, demonstrating that the bedroom was rather big.
“You need rest,” he said, but Arlette was frozen in spot. She didn’t move, she didn’t breathe, she didn’t do anything.
There was silence, but then—
“No,” Arlette said through gritted teeth. She took another step. And another one, daring herself, and then another one, and then she started running, throwing away all the shuffling thoughts telling her to stay where she was, but before she could get remotely close to anything indicating the chance of escape, the Prince grabbed her roughly, and she screamed at the top of her lungs, crying for help.
He picked her up and threw her on the bed. Voices were screaming as he touched her, as if physical contact burned. She tried to get up, but the Prince was too strong, he held her down. Arlette felt him too close to her, and she kept on screaming, hoping somebody would be able to hear her and come to where they were. But nobody came and then she felt his lips on her ear as he whispered roughly, “Calm down or I’ll make you sleep for weeks,” his voice was threatening, dark, poisonous.
She stopped screaming.
Tears ran down her eyes as she started panting. She didn’t like to show weakness, but she was just so worn out...
Never in her life had she felt so defeated and tired.
Arlette swallowed, trying to find her voice, “Just l-let me g-go,”
“No.” He stepped away from her. “You’re mine now. Fate chose you.”
‘Her.’
Arlette remembered pretty well, she just didn’t want to accept it. So much had happened the past weeks, she didn’t even know what to think.
I am no one’s, she wanted to say, but stopped herself - for her own good.
“W-where am I?”
“My bedroom,” he said matter-of-factly. “As if it wasn’t obvious already by the paintings.”
For some reason, Arlette felt a deep, abrupt pang in her chest. And it didn’t even matter if he knew or not. There was a long silence before she replied, “I am blind, Your Highness.”
Accidentally, Arlette didn’t know why she wasn’t putting on her mask—her flat, monotonous face. That face she gave everyone who she felt deserved it. That face where she looked at them straight where she heard their voices coming from, her head high, demanding respect. But, she instead bowed her head, as if for the first time, she was ashamed to her disability, something she had never felt until now.
The Prince didn’t respond right away, he was silent.
“I-I...”
He didn’t know what to say, so seconds later, he slammed the door behind him, making Arlette wince.
Dark lullabies hovered over her head, clouding her mind. Arlette grabbed a pillow, screaming into it. She then threw it to the side. Arlette was so frustrated and angry at herself, and she didn’t even know why.
He must've been furious with her for not telling him. Arlette couldn't get off her mind the thought that he might punish her.
Arlette took deep breaths. Just stay calm.
But then a rather strange thought came into her mind.
He sleeps in this bed.
Arlette threw herself off the bed quickly, suddenly feeling embarrassed, but not before the door was being open.
“Dear, you need to go back to bed,” she heard an elderly voice say, the door closing behind her.
Before she could’ve utter a word out, she felt the woman lacing her arms through hers, guiding her back to bed.
“But ma’am—”
“But ma’am nothing, child, you need to rest. Here, lay on the bed.”
Forgetting the fact that she flew out of bed the moment she realized it was his, Arlette did as told, and soon enough, she could feel a hot, wet towel being placed on her forehead and her bare feet. Minutes later, she could feel her head stop pounding and her muscles loose a little.
The elderly woman did her work quietly.
“Drink this tea, dear, it’ll relax your muscles.” She leaned the cup against Arlette’s lip, as she sat on the bed, the strong, hot scent surfing and invading her nostrils. Arlette took a small sip and the woman then lend her the cup. She took it gratefully, loving the taste of foreign herbs and the nice feeling of it.
Arlette felt so much better. “Thank you.”
“It is no problem, miss,” the woman said calmly, sincerely.
“Please call me Arlette,”
“Arlette...” she tasted the name, “such a beautiful name,”
“Thank you...” Arlette smiled. “What’s your name?”
“Elsa,”
Arlette tried to taste her name on her lips too, “Elsa...” A little conversation wouldn’t hurt, she guessed. “Why... are my muscles so tense and why do I feel so tired?”
“It’s the stress. You’ve been too stressed and worried lately,” she said thoughtfully. “But it’s also something else,” she said. “It’s a force—his force. It’s making you weak because you fight back. You never give in without a fight. Is that correct?”
Arlette nodded, simultaneously understanding.
“I suppose that was you who was screaming a while ago?”
She nodded again.
Elsa took both of Arlette’s hands in hers, and Arlette could feel concern and a tint of fear coming off of her. “You need to stop fighting, Arlette. It’s going to make you weak to the point where you won’t be able to even stand up without passing out—”
“But Elsa, I—”
“I know you don’t want this, but you can’t live like this.”
“Of course I can. If I could just escape—”
“He’ll find you—he’ll find you anywhere you go, Arlette, he’s destined to be with you now. And Fate did that for a reason.”
“But Fate knows—”
“Yes, Fate knew you didn’t want this from the beginning. But it’s the way things are, Arlette, and you have to accept them.”
And this woman was correct, but something in Arlette always told her to push over her limits - to never fear, but try, the unknown. Maybe it was her consciousness, or maybe it was Fate—she didn’t know. Because if she tried, if she pushed over her limits and not fear the unknown, she might get what she've been always looking for. Even though it will always put her in trouble or controversy. People always warned her to never grab for much, because at the end, you’ll never grab enough.
But isn't that what we all want? To have anything we wish for? But as some people say: Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. But this doesn't exactly work for Arlette, does it?
Arlette sighed, her head vacant of any coherent answer, “I...I just want to see my family,”
Elsa stroked Arlette’s hands. “When the right time comes you’ll be able to. For now, just rest, dear, you need it.” She placed one hand on Arlette’s forehead after taking away the towel, and pressed a little, sending sleep to her brain. Before she was shoved all the way into her slumber, she heard Elsa whisper, “Be careful.”
➳
Arlette was nowhere and everywhere, she tried to differ between the two, but she couldn’t. It was like she was in between, neither black or white. Grey perhaps. As she hightened her senses, she realized that there wasn’t any type of smell whatsoever. Everything felt empty and out of place. There was no sound or emotion. Everything was just so... hollow.
“Oh dear, you’ve come back! Isn't this a lovely surprise...” It was her, the loud, evil woman she met in her last dream.
She tried looking for her by turning around. “Where am I?”
The woman sighed, irritated. “Honestly, honey, you need to get it together,” she said. “You're the one who dreams of these places, not me.”
“But I don't even think about them.” Arlette gave several steps.
“Yet you would like to visit them, wouldn't you?” Arlette could feel the boastful smirk on her face.
She didn’t answer, because in reality, it was true. She didn’t know if she wanted to be in this place though, where she was unable to identify her surroundings. The woman continued, “How’s it going with the beast?” But she didn’t let Arlette form any type of answer. She laughed hysterically, as if what she was saying was some kind of inside joke. Arlette could feel her closer yet somehow still far away.
That sparked interest in Arlette. “You know him?”
“Oh yes I do, sweetheart,” she contemplated, as if deep in some memories, and then she whispered in her ear, “Want me to tell you a secret?”
Arlette didn’t even think about it. “No.”
The woman laughed. “I’m going to tell you anyways,” she said, then slowly murmured, “He was mine once.” And then she let out another round of crazed laughter.
Arlette shook her head, stepping away. She wanted to go back—she wanted to awake. She didn’t like this woman. Something was off with her—something was not right.
The woman stopped laughing. And then stood in front of Arlette, as her breath fanned her face, she whispered slowly, “But answer me this, dear. . . can a beast be tamed?”
“I...I don’t know.”
“But you will.”
➳ ➳ ➳ ➳ ➳ ➳ ➳
Aaron’s P.O.V.
“I heard that Fate chose her,”
“She did.” He chuckled venously, running his thumb across his chin. “Funny how these news spread like wildfire.”
Aaron didn’t want to show how hurt he was by this unexpected news. He stayed a fair distance away from him. “You shouldn’t have done what you did to her the other night.” His fists clenched and unclenched in rage. He could feel beads of sweat roll down his forehead. And all he could hear was the screech of her agonizing screams.
Out of all the girls in the Fae lands, Fate chose her.
His heart sank.
Aaron couldn’t face him the same night of the choosing. Something had happened and he was nowhere in sight. But now this was his opportunity to confront him.
“I didn’t do anything,” he said, his voice a deadly tone. Aaron looked at him, trying to read him, but there just was a tornado of thoughts and emotions. That infuriated him.
He came threateningly closer to his brother. “How dare you say that when you nearly exploded her brain?”
The trees around them rustled furiously, and the moon was starting to hide behind the clouds.
The Prince’s pitch black pupils filled both of his eyes, showing his excruciating and perplexing rage. He talked slowly, with gritted teeth. “I did not do anything to her head.” The veins on his neck and face looked like they were going to burst. They were turning a black-ish red, pumping disturbingly.
“Liar.” And just like that, Aaron threw him a cold punch as hard as he could, hitting him square in the face.
The Prince stepped back, then snapped his head up as if nothing happened, and snaking towards Aaron impossibly fast, he grabbed him by the neck, slamming him hard against a tree. Something cracked, and Aaron let out an agonizing scream. The Prince came close to his face. “You are no match for me, brother.”
Aaron’s breath was shallow as he felt like he was going to pass out from the outrageous pain in his whole back.
“You’re not allowed to go near her,” he inquired furiously as he gripped his neck stronger.
Aaron was losing himself. His head was spinning as he tried to find his voice, “S-she won’t allow y-you to.”
“I am not asking for her permission. You’ll do as I say and that’s it.” With that said, he let go of him, and Aaron fell to the floor.
Grabbing his neck and coughing, he looked up at his brother, gazing at his grotesque and hideous self. “She will never be able to fall in love with someone as damaged as you. You’re a monster.”
The Prince looked at him. His face vacant of any emotion. He stayed quiet, his eyes burning into Aaron’s. “Perhaps,” he said, then Aaron’s face flew painfully to the right, and blood started to accumulate inside his mouth.
Aaron’s vision blurred and unfocused, everything around him was spinning comically. He shook his head, trying to make his eyes focus. It worked. And he couldn’t feel the side of his face. It felt like it was ripped and shattered out of his face. He didn’t dare touch it.
When Aaron looked back up, the Prince was gone.
Spitting the blood from the cold punch his brother gave him, he weakly stood up, wobbling his way back to the palace.
He only wished he could see Arlette one last time.