// numbered //
"Eat this."
I regarded the almond-shaped thing in her hand, tears nonstop.
"Trust me," she said softly. "It'll help."
If it was poison, it would end this feeling of helplessness. If not, and she was telling the truth, then it would help somehow. So I bit it and swallowed.
I nearly retched. "That's disgusting."
She chuckled and pulled me to my feet. "I never said it tasted good, just that it would help."
"What was that?" I tried to rid my tastebuds of the flavor.
"A seed that calms the consumer."
I realized then that my nausea had vanished. My tears had stopped, and only the drying tracks remained, sticky on my face. My stomach had settled and a calm washed over me. It was an eerie feeling, like something else had control over my organs.
Eika shot me her blinding smile and patted my arm. "I knew that would come in handy at some point."
With my head cleared, I could think without falling to hysterics. "So I can never go home?"
My hands rested on my stomach. This strange serenity had stopped its churning, and I wanted to be prepared when the medicine wore off.
Eika pursed her green lips. "Take caution with never, Belline Paris."
"Bell."
"The King can give you permission to return to Earth, but certain conditions must be met."
We were close enough to the castle now that I could see its details.
Towers marked the four corners, and a spire extended from the center. Most of the stone had been carved, so the exterior was covered in serpentine curves, geometric shapes, and flowery patterns.
"So, Eternity's got a monarchy, huh?" I partially paid attention to the chameleon beside me, occupied by the calm that gave me a sort of giddy lightheadedness.
The castle before me was confirmation enough, but she replied, "Yes. Eternity has had monarchs almost since its conception." Her face filled with shadows, and had it not been for the almond seed I'd ingested, worry might've flooded my system.
"What is it?"
She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "I don't know if you have noticed, but I have yet to mention a queen. You see, Eternity's Queen has been imprisoned for the human equivalent of eight thousand days for her crimes against the kingdom. The King rules alone. That is why the Prince must marry, so Eternity can return to its traditional order and the Prince can become king.
"Do not misunderstand," she added, when she noticed my gaping mouth at the mention of a criminal queen. "The Eslyr family is very beloved."
Eslyr? Why was that name so familiar?
It was the name on the postcard. They had told us exactly where we were going: here to Eternity, to the royal family, Eslyr.
At last it occurred to me that I hadn't been alone, there had been twenty-nine other girls on that bus.
Gasping, I asked, "What happened to the other girls? I didn't come here alone."
Eika smiled. "I figured. But if they stayed on the path, unlike someone," she ribbed, "they would have made it to the castle without issue. I'm sure they will be there."
As we neared the gates to the castle, my stomach flipped again and my mind clouded with rapid-fire thoughts — the herb Eika had given me must have been wearing off. But to my surprise, I didn't want to cry. I was slowly accepting that this place around me, however impossible it seemed, was real. That I wasn't dreaming or hallucinating.
My imagination couldn't have fabricated this anyway.
It was a sobering reality, that I was potentially stuck here. There was a possibility that I could never go home. But there was hope too. I could convince the King's to let me return home. How I convinced him, that remained a mystery.
At the black iron gates that dared to touch the sky, Eika pushed them lightly, and they opened by themselves. Once we stepped through, they swung shut with an echoing clang. We passed the entrance courtyard and entered the property of the royal family. I noticed that plantlife — shrubs, trees, flowers — was everywhere.
I stared, gaping, at the castle up close. The details in the stone were more skillful and delicate than at a distance. And the shape of the strange black rose seemed to be a motif: it was carved on several stones and it made up the design of the ornate iron front doors.
"I can lead you no farther," Eika announced, but I didn't register her words: I was too enthralled by the castle.
While the castle was surrounded by buttery-silver light and twisting trees that made everything feel like a fairy tale, it seemed like the castle had been swallowed by shadows. By something like despair. This castle was not a place of balls and galas and festivals. This castle was a place of darkness.
"Belline."
The sound of my name tore my attention from the castle.
The chameleon-noid smiled softly at me. "I can lead you no farther, Belline Paris."
"Bell."
"I do hope to see you again. Now I must be off to my duties." She waved and disappeared into the shade of a nearby garden of tall flowers.
Sucking in a breath, I moved forward and joined the other girls who milled about the front of the castle. It just barely registered that about fifteen of the thirty girls had gathered so far.
Once the spell of the castle broke, I settled on the grass. I watched the other girls: some had glasses, some had tattoos, some had revealing clothes. A few complained about the lack of cell phone service here. Others had collapsed into confused tears. But mostly everyone kept to themselves.
The group grew as one by one, girls trickled through the gates of the castle. They would freeze in the shadow of the building, awestruck. At last, all thirty of us gathered at the front of the castle.
Sudden lights illuminated the entrance. On either side of the doors were stone bins, with the word "BELONGINGS" etched into them. With hesitant steps and furtive glances, the girls climbed the steps to the bins. One by one, the girls placed their bags, phones, hats, and various other items inside.
As I settled my things into one of the almost-full bins, I peeked one final time at the polaroid picture I kept of me and my sister in my wallet. I walked away, settling in the shadows of an overgrown flower.
Mere moments after finishing with our belongings, someone emerged from the castle. They looked human enough, with actual skin and human eyes. She wore a black and white dress, an apron, and a braid woven with black and white fabric.
"Ladies, if you could follow me please."
We rounded the edge of the castle. The motif of the black rose carving continued along its side. Looking up, I noticed the wall was split up by numerous windows. If I squinted, I thought I could see figures rush by them. Then we came around to the back of the castle to more gardens.
These gardens were made of flowers and plants I had never seen before. Some seemed to shrink and grow, others changed colors, and I thought I saw little bugs running through the dirt. The plantlife here was just as astounding as its architecture.
The back of the castle was more heavily decorated than the front. The designs became more intricate, more complicated. The roses warped into haunting flowerlike symbols.
A large balcony spanned almost the entirety of the castle's backside. Two stone staircases on either side gave it the appearance of a stage. I had a feeling that, at one point, the royal family had hosted galas in this exact spot.
"Please wait here." The servant bowed and scurried inside the castle.
Everyone began to murmur to each other, whispering questions and worries, but my eyes fastened on the balcony above. A shadow that seemed to stare back had drawn my gaze there.
When two figures emerged onto the balcony, all thirty of us fell into a loose line to watch them.
One of them donned a black cloak that covered every inch of them. The hood even hid their face. But the other one we could see clearly: he had chalky white skin that was pulled taut over his lanky frame, tight enough that his cheekbones and jawline jutted out. Strange black dots, almost like jewels, followed the curve from his left eye down to the edge of his lips. Two black eyes glared out from long strands of black hair.
He wore a white collared shirt beneath a black leather frock coat, the coattails extending to the back of his knees. Black leggings disappeared into knee-high black leather boots. Black leather gloves covered his hands.
Together, they moved with practiced fluidity. They held their heads high, shoulders back, feet light. It was a regal procession to the banister of the balcony.
By the way they walked, I knew who they were: the King and the Prince. But I wasn't sure which was which.
"The King," I whispered as I stared up at them.
The girl beside me looked at me, eyebrow raised. Her expression asked how I could have possibly known that, but I ignored her.
The cloaked figure threw their hands in the air and bellowed, "Ladies, welcome! The kingdom of Eternity humbly thanks you for accepting our invitation."
In sync, the two men bowed at the waist. The one whose face we could see crossed his arm over his chest, his other arm behind his back, and bowed deeply, almost ninety-degrees. The one in the cloak simply bent at the waist, arms at his side. From their difference in bows, I assumed the cloaked one to be the King, the other the Prince.
As if on cue, they split to walk down the stairs. The King went to the left, the Prince to the right.
The King spoke as they took each measured step with practiced poise. "I am sure you have many questions, the most pressing why you are here. Fear not, for we will answer that curiosity soon."
Now they stood in front of us, next to each other again. The Prince towered over the King — he was taller than everyone here. But he was skinny, almost sickly so. And despite the closed distance, we still couldn't see any features of the King.
Before they explained, they looked at each one of us in turn. The Prince demanded eye contact, his black eyes fierce. They were attractive in a magnetic way, a terrifying impulse.
When those eyes landed on me, I tried to stare back unflinchingly. My eyes widened when I swore I saw a flame dancing in that impassive gaze. His nonchalance broke for a second as his eyebrow arched. We watched each other for a few seconds longer than the others. And then his blank façade returned and he looked at the next girl.
I swallowed. The Prince wasn't what I had envisioned a prince would look like. He was much scarier, much more intimidating. His dark eyes seemed to hold a war of shadow and flame.
"Let us introduce ourselves." The cloaked King had a voice meant to project to crowds. "I am King Hadeth, and this is my son, Prince Rune."
At his name, the Prince gave his deep bow again. His eyes were dull, lips in an unimpressed line.
"You received our invitation under false pretenses, and we apologize profusely for that. But we couldn't be upfront about it, as you can see." The King gestured to the mystifying land that glowed silver and gold.
The King was right: had they been honest, we wouldn't have believed it. We would have thought it was some new cheesy gimmick.
"You have been chosen to partake in an age-old tradition here on Eternity, the Bride Competition!" The King threw his arms out again.
Prince Rune's face darkened.
The girls glanced at each other, and I held my breath. Eika had mentioned this competition thing earlier.
Once he lowered his arms, King Hadeth continued. "This is a competition against one another to become the bride of the Prince."
Whispers arose, but I stared slack-jawed at the Prince. Marry him? No wonder they needed a competition — no one would marry him otherwise.
He held up a finger to quiet the murmurs. "But I fear it has become much more than that. You must also compete to survive, for the competition is no longer simple balancing acts."
The whispers became cries of protest.
We were brought to another planet against our wills, deceived, and now we were expected to compete in something that forced us to rely on our survival instincts? They didn't honestly expect us to go along without complaint, did they?
King Hadeth put his hand up to silence us, a surprisingly effective gesture. "There are rules you must follow. If any of these rules are broken, you will be eliminated."
The King nodded to his son, and the Prince said, "The first rule: at any time during the competition, should you give up — or claim you will not participate — you will be promptly eliminated."
The Prince's voice was deep and rumbling. It was the sort of voice that belonged to someone much more muscled and broad. It sounded out of place on such a skinny, frail-looking person.
"If you fail to complete a trial, no matter what that means, you will be promptly eliminated," the King added.
The Prince's eyes scoured each of us. "There is no time limit to the trials, but if you complete it first, you will be rewarded: clean clothes, aid for your injuries, a hot bath, and a full-course meal."
The smirk was clear in King Hadeth's voice. "Anything can happen. Cheating, cheap tricks, and dirty play are all allowed. But you must be careful. If you spend too much time sabotaging the other girls, you could come in last. If you come in last at any of the trials, you will be promptly eliminated."
I noticed a couple girls grin, pleased at the news of foul play being allowed.
Before the next rule was revealed, Prince Rune nodded to the shadows, and thirty servants emerged. They donned black and white outfits, suits for the males and dresses for the females. They looked human enough.
They stepped forward, one for each girl. They clipped a number to our shirts — the pin looked like tungsten or titanium.
Eyebrows drawn, I stared at my number: twelve. I glanced at the girls on either side of me: twenty-one to my left and nine to my right.
The Prince announced, "The final rule: you are only allowed to refer to your fellow competitors by their numbers. Anyone giving a name or saying a name will be promptly eliminated."
My eyes widened. We didn't even have names here. Our identities were stripped of us, reduced to digits.
There was silence for a while as the gravity of the situation set in. I was no longer Bell, but number twelve. I had to compete against twenty-nine other girls, not to marry the Prince, but to survive. There was no other choice.
If I won, perhaps I could convince the King. Maybe I could return home. There was hope — a grim hope.
I clenched my fists, determined. I wouldn't marry the Prince, but I would win. Number twelve would become number one.