The Fallen Princess

Fifteen

“Here,” Prince Callen said, tossing her the neatly folded outfit while balancing a tray laden with food in his other hand. The clothing landed softly beside her boots. “Don’t let people strip you of the clothes I bought you again.”

Zaria nodded sheepishly, still mortified by how fast Amber had undressed her. “They will most likely want these returned,” she murmured, brushing her fingers over the leather of the corset. “I paid them enough to replace them a hundred-fold.” Callen set the tray on the bedside table. “Keep them for all I care.”

Zaria grinned. “Perhaps I’ll keep them so that my future dragon husband can appreciate them.” Callen’s head whipped toward her so fast she wondered if he’d sprained something. His expression sharpened instantly.

“On second thought,” he said, voice clipped, “I will be returning them.” Zaria laughed softly.

“Go change,” he ordered dryly. She rushed toward the washroom, but her nose betrayed her. The scent of roasted meat reached her, and her stomach growled so loudly she winced.

She reached for a piece, but Callen swatted her hand away without mercy. “Change first,” he said firmly. She rolled her eyes but obeyed.

When she returned, Zaria finally sat at the edge of the bed and dug into the meal. She ate faster than she meant to... she couldn’t help it. The food was warm and comforting, melting away the tight knot in her chest.

Sleep overtook her within minutes. Her head dipped forward once, then she slid sideways onto the bed. Callen pulled the blanket up for her, but the moment his hand brushed her shoulder, she was gone... completely unconscious.

She drifted into a dream. Barefoot in a lush green field. The grass was cool and soft beneath her feet. Wind swept gently across rolling hills. Snow-capped mountains stood in the distance like silent guardians. Birds soared overhead. Peace wrapped around her warm as a blanket. Ahead of her stood a knight. Massive, golden-armored, his presence radiant and strange.

Zaria hesitated. Her dreams had betrayed her before. Yet when he extended a gauntleted hand, something deep within her urged her forward. She walked, grass brushing her calves, air crisp against her skin. When she placed her hand into his, she felt the cool metal, the weight of him, the solidity.

He led her toward a grand castle… And vanished the moment she stepped inside. In his place stood Prince Callen. But not quite him. He wore garments fit for a king. Dark, regal, embroidered with gold and his expression was unreadable. His golden eyes were deeper, carrying a knowledge she could not name.

“Callen?” she whispered. No answer. He simply lifted a hand and gestured toward enormous carved doors that groaned as they opened on their own. Zaria stepped through. A serene garden stretched out before her; lush, breathtaking but something cut through its center: a river of murky brown water, swirling unnaturally.

She knelt, reaching out. The instant her fingers brushed the surface, she felt it... Eyes. Watching. She lifted her gaze. The knight stood across the water, eyes glowing gold. Suddenly... A shove. She plunged forward.

The river seized her, dragging her away with horrifying strength. She clawed toward the shore. “Zakai!” she screamed as water filled her throat. “Zakai!” “You must go,” a soft voice whispered somewhere behind the current.

Her eyes snapped open. She burst awake with a strangled gasp. Her lungs burned as if she had truly drowned. Panic clawed at her throat. “Zaria!” Callen’s voice was sharp. He pulled her upright, gripping her shoulders, then crushed her against his chest.

His arms wrapped around her with a desperation he didn’t bother hiding. “Thank God,” he muttered into her hair. She shook violently, gulping air, hands fisting the fabric of his shirt. They remained that way until her trembling eased, and the frantic pounding of her heart settled into something manageable.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly. She didn’t lift her head. “I… sometimes have nightmares,” she whispered. Her voice cracked with the leftover panic. The dream still clung to her. Its peace and terror mixing into something unsteady, something foreboding.

“Can I see my brother?” she asked. “Not now,” he said gently. “I’ll take you in the morning.” She nodded, relieved enough to sag against him. Callen stood, scooping her up as easily as lifting a child. The room glowed with pale silver moonlight that spilled through the window, softening every edge, turning him into something almost ethereal.

He carried her to his bed. Zaria clung to him for a second longer than she intended. He lay beside her but only after tucking a blanket firmly between them, creating a thin, laughable barrier. “Sleep,” he murmured. “No harm will come to you. I promise.” She was asleep before the words fully registered.

“Zaria,” a soft voice drifted through her fog. She mumbled something incoherent and burrowed deeper into the warmth. “Zaria,” the voice repeated, strained with unusual patience. “I need to… relieve myself.” Her mind finally clicked awake.

Slowly she lifted her head and found Callen’s face inches from hers. She yelped, truly yelped, and scrambled back so quickly she nearly tumbled off the bed. Callen caught her wrist with one hand and the back of her shirt with the other, hauling her back before she cracked her skull on the floor.

“It’s a little late to play innocent,” he drawled. “You slept like this the entire night.” He stood, stretching his broad frame. Several joints cracked loudly. Zaria blinked, still recovering from the shock. “It’s time to get up,” Callen said, rolling his shoulders. “We leave today. We should reach the castle before nightfall.” Zaria nodded numbly, her mind slowly stitching itself together.

Callen escorted her to Zakai as promised. The moment her brother saw her, he recognized the darkness beneath her eyes. Zakai didn’t say anything at first. He simply pulled her into a tight hug.

“You look tired,” he murmured against her hair. “So do you,” she replied softly, trying to sound lighthearted but Zakai wasn’t fooled... not even for a moment. “You had another dream.” Zakai didn’t ask. He stated it, flat and certain. He drew back, hands framing her shoulders.

“Tell me.” She hesitated, a chill running through her despite the warming sun. “There was a river... It cut straight through a garden. It didn’t belong there.” Her voice faltered. “No matter how hard I tried to swim, it pulled me farther away. I kept screaming your name.”

Zakai’s expression darkened. Zaria… your dreams are not mere wanderings of the mind. They never have been.” “I know.” Her voice cracked, but she held her composure, glancing around her to make certain no one could hear. Then her eyes settled on him... The prince. And Zakai noticed.

“You’re looking at him differently,” he muttered, one brow arching. Zaria’s cheeks warmed despite her best effort to remain steady. “He’s a prince. And more than that... he’s a dragon. Their world is not ours.” “I know.” She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ll be careful,” she promised. “I swear it.” But Zakai could see what she didn’t dare say aloud. Careful or not… her heart had already begun its fall.