Chapter Text
Chapter One
Do Dreams Have Meaning?
I am not weak. I am strong and capable, like my mother and grandmother, the current and former queen, and I, the successor. I was raised to be independent and resourceful, to solve my country’s problems with limited resources and time. To please my inevitable husband and future king and to ensure the future and success of our country. I am not weak, and I do not need my own personal guard, especially not one my parents planned to keep with my twenty-four-seven. “This is normal for royalty,” my mother told me, her arms firmly crossed over her chest as she stood her ground before me. “Be grateful that we’ve held off for this long.” The staff had left us alone in our grand dining room, the table still full of fresh pancakes and fruit. I looked to my grandmother, who sat to my left, for help, but she gently shook her head. I huffed and began to pick at my pancakes in frustration. When my mother had made up her mind on something, there was no changing it. She, much like I, was as stubborn as ever. My mother, satisfied with my lack of response, sat back down in her chair across from me. “They will be arriving this evening with your father,”
I didn’t reply, knowing the difference between a conversation and being spoken to. Or rather, knowing ‘my place,’ as my mother might refer to it. It is a princess’ duty to know when to speak and when to not. One would think that being a princess would come with the power to speak freely whenever I wanted. We ate the rest of our breakfast in an awkward silence, and when we finished, I quickly dismissed myself to my room. Typically, my mother may have chided me for not waiting until the eldest in the room dismissed my presence, but she said nothing as I left. I took a moment to enjoy what would probably be my last moments ever, truly alone, as I headed towards my room. The halls of our castle were the same as always, an off-white edged with vibrant gold leading up to an intricately designed ceiling. My heels clicked softly against the red carpet that covered the rough stone floor. The walls were covered with paintings and statues, artwork sometimes gifted or bought. Sometimes stolen. To someone foreign to the life of royalty, they may have stopped to gawk at the artwork, but having lived here my entire life, I was beginning to find the art rather boring. Even the castle was becoming boring, no matter how luxurious it was. I let my hands glide against the cold walls, my mind fluttering back to this morning.
My mother tried gently suggesting a personal guard, and when I declined, instead enforced one. She insisted it was necessary due to recent events, both external and internal. Our borders were becoming unsafe, rumors of neighboring countries allying with others and reports of attacks on the outskirts of our country. The citizens were becoming restless, and my father was gone more and more often, leaving my mother to handle things internally. Maybe she had a point; maybe stepping up security wasn’t such a bad idea. For the city, not for me. The idea of someone being there from the moment I woke up to the moment I went to sleep was unsettling. It was already hard enough with the many servants running around the castle as is. I treasured the moments I had in the mornings when I could pick my own dress and style my own hair before meeting with a maid who had a detailed plan for my day. Before eating meals that I had never picked or studying subjects I had no interest in. I wanted to enjoy the freedom I had before I was married off and had to focus on being a ‘good wife’ and even better ‘queen.’ A future that, as I grew closer and closer to eighteen, I wasn’t so sure I wanted. ‘It is not the place for a princess to want but to provide,’ I rolled my eyes as I remembered my mother’s scolding tone as she repeated one of her favorite phrases. A phrase that was probably shoved down her throat from a young age, so she, in return, did the same to me.
As I muddled through my thoughts, I nearly walked right past my room. “Your Highness,” I heard a familiar voice call and looked up to see my maid Miwa waiting before me, holding my bedroom door open. “Your mother has cleared your schedule for today,” She informed me as I walked past her. “Thank god,” I groaned, kicking off the annoying black heels and approaching my bed. “Please, leave me be for a while,” I informed her and flopped down on my bed. My comforter was thick and warm, the best this country could provide. My bed, big enough for at least three people, was covered in the finest sheets that invited me in. I slipped under my covers and sighed in relief, or at least tried to. The familiar tightness surrounding my chest and stomach was too present, and I began to feel almost suffocated by the blue stay laced tightly around me. I sat up and reached my arms back as far as I could, desperately grasping at the tied strings. Miwa should’ve been here to help me if only I hadn’t been so annoyed just a few moments ago. I glanced at my door and wondered if she was still there or maybe in the hall, but decided it was too much effort to get up and check. Some call that laziness, but I like to think of it as self-care and being independent. Finally, finally, I was able to loosen the strings, and I felt my chest and stomach expand in their natural way. My chest rose as I gulped in the air, my muscles relaxing as I no longer had to fight to breathe or suppress my organs to give the illusion of bigger breasts and a tinier waist. I slumped back down into my bed and cocooned myself in my comforter. With my head buried under my blankets and covered with my pillows, I was able to block out the bright morning sun illuminating my room. With my mother’s words from this morning still floating in my head, I slowly began to drift off to sleep.
When I awoke, the sun was setting, leaving my room shadowed in a growing darkness. I groggily rubbed my eyes, not realizing I had slept that long. Was it even possible for me to sleep an entire day? As I debated this, I felt my stomach growl. I guess it had been hours since my last meal, and I hadn’t eaten that much at breakfast. I sighed, still tired, and slipped out of bed. As I walked across my room, I passed my mirror and noticed that I was no longer in my dress from this morning but instead in my typical white nightgown. It was long and loose, probably the only comfortable piece of clothing I owned. The sleeves and neckline were stitched with a small pink floral pattern, my mother’s design. Though I loved this nightgown, there was just one problem with it. I hadn’t changed before going to bed. I knew I hadn’t because I remember struggling even to loosen my stay. I glanced around my room, looking for the dress I had been wearing. Had Miwa come in and helped me change? No, that couldn’t be. I had always been a light sleeper, and I would’ve remembered. It's not like my dresses were easy to get off, with the seemingly never-ending layers to them. I definitely would’ve remembered changing. As I questioned this, the sun continued to sink lower and lower, eventually casting my room in complete darkness. The moon that took its place was full and hung brightly in the sky but still only provided a small amount of light. “Damn,” I muttered and began towards my bedroom door. I needed Miwa to light some candles and explain my odd attire change. As my hand reached for the rather large metal door handle, a loud and eerie creak rang out in the darkness. I paused, realizing that the creaking had not come from me opening my door. Instead, it had come from behind me.
I slowly turned around to see my closet door just slightly open. There was a problem with this, too. I hadn’t opened my closet door. For the last seventeen years that I’ve lived in this castle, my closet door has never once opened on its own. So if I hadn’t opened it, and I was sure no ghosts existed here to open it, who had? The question made my heart skip a beat, and the blood in my veins ran cold. Every instinct in my body told me not to approach my closet, to turn and leave instead. To find Miwa to light some candles and maybe another servant to check the closet with me. Yet, I felt my feet move independently as they led me to the other side of my room. “Stop,” I pleaded with them, but they were persistent in their movements. As my heart beat louder and louder in my chest, my feet stopped moving once I stood in front of the closet door. My trembling right hand reached for the doorknob, and although I tried to stop it with my left hand, it was useless. “No!” I screamed as my hand reached the door knob and threw the closet door wide open. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for whatever inevitable horror was on the other side of the door. An intruder? A ghost? A monster? Every horror novel I had read passed through my mind and increased my fear. As I waited for something to grab me, I slowly realized nothing was happening. I cracked my eyes open just a little, enough to see if there was any danger present. The closet was dark, but thanks to the moon, I could just barely see inside. It appeared that the only danger I was in was coming from the brightly colored floral patterned dresses hanging within. I completely opened my eyes and let out a sigh of relief, followed by a nervous laugh. Of course, there was no one here. There was no such thing as ghosts or monsters, and what intruder would be crazy enough to break into a castle? Our guards surely would’ve caught them before they made it this far. “Get it together, Nobara,” I scolded myself as I closed the closet door. Back to reality, it was time to find Miwa and get us some snacks, maybe dinner, if there was any leftover.
I turned to leave my room but quickly ran into something tall and rather large, blocking my path. “What the?” I reached my hand out and felt the familiar warmth of a human body. One that definitely wasn’t recognizable and definitely shouldn’t be there. Every ounce of fear that had racked my body just moments ago was back and stronger than ever. Every muscle tensed as I looked up at the tall figure. It was still dark in my room, but I could make out the long, lighter hair of a man tied in two loose ponytails. I could make out what appeared to be strange scars covering his pale face. Worst of all, I could see the detailed outline of his wide smile and crazed, colorless eyes. I was defenseless as he lowered his head to my level, his face just inches from mine. I could feel his warm breath against my face, and his cold hand slither up my side to cup my cheek. “Hello, Princess,” He whispered to me. As I felt his fingernails begin to dig into my skin, I did the only thing I could think of: I screamed.
“Nobara, it's me, granny!” I couldn’t hear her through my screams and thrashing. In my mind, I was still locked in my dark bedroom, his cold hands clawing at me and his warm breath snaking its way down my throat and choking me. “No, no, no,” I threw my covers off and pushed myself away from my grandmother before me, hitting the backboard of my bedframe. Finally, my eyes opened, and realization slowly began to set in. My grandmother sat on my bed, wearing a look of concern. Next to her, Miwa was standing with a candle that provided little light in my room. “Where is he?” I scanned my bedroom, looking for the man, and fought to calm myself. “Who, darling?” My grandmother reached out to me, gently grabbing my hand. “It's just us,” She reassured me. She was right; it was just us three here. I looked over to my closet door, which was closed, not cracked. There was no sight of any man here. With that man’s unusual appearance, I was sure that if he were here, they would’ve noticed him. “Right, ok, just us,” my grandma rubbed my arm as I calmed down, my breathing returning to normal, as did my heartbeat. “That must have been some nightmare,” Miwa commented as she set the candle on my nightstand. She opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out a few more candles, using the original candle to light the others. I felt calmer with more light in the room. “Anything significant?” The question made my heartbeat rise again, but not to the extent as before. My grandmother sat beside me, playing with my hair as I rested against her. She had always believed in signs and the supernatural. A witch, my mother had always teased her. She said if my grandmother were born into a common family, they would’ve burned her long ago. I, however, found comfort and strength in her teachings.
Dreams almost always held some significance. Some dreams were a warning, others a blessing. For years, when I was younger, I had kept a dream journal to study with my grandmother. “Your dreams tell me you’ll be the happiest princess there ever was,” she told me. At the time, I was thrilled at such a prediction, but now, as I remembered this dream, I could no longer find that prediction within. “A man,” I started, “Waiting for me. He was…odd. With scars on his face,” I replayed the dream, trying to pull out signs. “My clothes; someone had changed me into my nightgown,” I grabbed at my dress to emphasize this, happy to see that I was still wearing the same dress as I had been when I fell asleep. “Oh! That could represent a loss of control, right?” Miwa, who stood at the bedside listening, had been my age when her mother started working as a servant with us. We grew up together, just in different worlds. “Exactly right, my dear,” My grandmother said, “Now for the man,” she pondered this detail, as did I. What did this man represent? I’d never seen him before and certainly had never thought of a man with his unusual appearance before. “The scars could represent upcoming ups and downs in your life. Maybe a change that you’re struggling to accept?” She raised an eyebrow at me, and I knew what she was hinting at. Yes, I had been upset this morning, but not nearly upset enough to cause a dream like this.
“I don’t think a new guard would cause such a disturbing dream,” I told her as I leaned into her comforting hand. She was growing in age; her once clear skin was now lined with wrinkles. As she ran her fingers through my light hair, they trembled slightly. “Yes, but the brain processes things in unusual ways. Maybe this morning is bothering you more than you care to admit,” I didn’t say anything to that because it sounded right. I was never the one to openly express how I felt, a theme that seemed to run from my mother to me. “How about I make us some tea to settle things?” Miwa offered, and with my grandmother’s agreement, she left with one of our candles. We sat in bed like this in a comfortable silence until she returned with another servant following her. They held a small tray with a few floral tea cups, hot water, and cookies. “Chocolate, just made earlier today,” Miwa said as she poured us each a cup. “Miwa honey, have a cup yourself, and then go off to bed,” My grandmother instructed, waving a hand to brush off Miwa’s protests. My grandmother had always been so relaxed with the servants, I couldn’t think of a single one who wished her ill in the castle. My mother, more strict and cautious than her, was not as carefree. “Goodnight, Your Majesty, your Highness.” The tea she poured was warm in my cup, and it helped to calm my nerves. It had a slight sweetness to it, and I recognized it as chamomile. “You have to dip your cookie, it's the proper way for a lady,” I looked over to see her bobbing her cookie up and down in her cup before popping it in her mouth. I laughed and did the same with mine. I personally didn’t find it delicious, but I nonetheless continued. It wouldn’t be until much later that I realized she had probably done this to make eating easier. I suppose at the time, I wasn’t aware of just how rapidly old age was coming for my grandmother.
“What do you think they’ll be like?” I asked as I tried to keep my mind off my haunting dream. I was genuinely curious, too. I mean, if they were going to spend the entire day with my family and I, I might as well know. “You know, I’m not sure, you should ask your mother tomorrow,” She knew what she was saying. Gently suggesting that we make up. I loved my mother, but we were two stubborn forces constantly butting heads. My grandma reassured me that we would grow out of it, that she and my mother had been the same when she was my age. “I guess I’ll have to,” I knew she was right, and as I sipped on my tea, I wondered how my mother was going to react tomorrow. ‘Behind on your studies,’ I could see her lecturing that I had wasted my entire day sleeping instead of being productive. ‘A princess always has something to do,’ She would say. Nevertheless, I knew that come morning, I would find myself searching for her if it meant gathering a little bit of information. To my surprise, I began to feel drowsy as we finished our tea. Possibly due to such a restless sleep earlier, or maybe Miwa had dropped a few of grandmother's ‘essential oils’ in our cups before pouring our tea. Either way, I was relaxed enough to think about sleep again. Even though I was seventeen, I asked my grandmother to stay with me, at least until I fell asleep. “Of course, like old times,” She joked and made herself comfortable in my bed. I didn’t bother to change; too tired and exhausted to care. Tucked safely under my covers and comforted by my grandmother's presence beside me, I began to drift off to sleep again. I wondered what the new guards would be like and hoped that this time, my dreams would be a blessing instead of a warning.