Aloura, a journey of the Dimensions Book 1

The Unraveling of Aloura

**BANG BANG BANG**

“ALOURA, THIS ISN’T FUNNY!”

**BANG!**

“OPEN THIS DOOR! OR I’LL HAVE THE GUARDS BREAK IT OPEN!”

Confusion enveloped my senses as the frantic voice echoed in what felt like an abyss of darkness. My surroundings were a warm cocoon, enveloping me in soft fabric. It was as though I had been swaddled in layers of clouds. I blinked, fighting against the thick curtain of sleep that pressed weightily upon my eyelids.

**BANG BANG!**

The sound was near, jolting me into a realization that this was no dream. I struggled to sit up, pushing through an entanglement of curtains that swirled around me.

“What the hell?” I shrieked, tumbling out of the fabric chaos and landing squarely on a hard, cold surface.

Where the hell am I?

Pushing myself off the ground, I surveyed the room around me. Stone walls loomed high, and an imposing wooden chest blocked the door to my left.

“ALOURA! THIS ISN’T A JOKE, GIRL!”

I froze. Aloura? Who was that? Surely, they couldn’t mean me.

My heart raced as I wrapped my mind around the absurdity of the situation. I managed to shuffle over to the chest and hoisted it aside with all my might, creating just enough space to wrench the door open. The heavy wood creaked, and as it swung wide, it collided violently with the chest behind it.

“Aloura! Finally! By the gods, you’re a grown woman. What were you thinking, trying to barricade the door? It’s your own fault!” barked a stout woman as she squeezed her way into the chamber, followed by three other young women.

They piled in, their arms overflowing with buckets brimming with steaming water, and began to shove aside remnants of my makeshift prison of linens.

“You can’t stop another match! Two years ago, you rejected the Prince of Dommdell, and the year before that, Prince Yang and Prince Beldor. Now, when the kingdom needs a strong bond to prevent war, you have only King Ryker to consider. You’ve passed every available opportunity, and now the kingdom needs allies! So, you are going to do your duty!” The stout woman’s words lashed through the air like a whip, igniting a sense of panic deep within me.

“I, um… well…” I stammered, struggling to comprehend her words.

“There’s no time for excuses,” she interrupted brusquely. “Your duty is to be fulfilled, Aloura. Stop being a disappointment and a burden.”

With a firm grip, she turned my shoulder, propelling me into the adjoining bathing chamber, a relic reminiscent of an 18th-century romance movie.

Before I could voice my confusion, two of the women swept towards me like determined bees, shedding my clothes with deft movements and ushering me toward the inviting steaming water.

“Keep her hair out of the water, Lacy!” barked the dark-haired girl, whose tone suggested someone laden with responsibility.

I felt my long hair being gathered away from my face as I stepped into the warm embrace of the bath.

“Miss Aloura,” cooed the chubby blonde woman, handing me a bar of soap and a sponge.

Why did they think I was this Aloura? Was this some kind of elaborate joke? Had I died and found myself in a twisted version of heaven? A coma, maybe? Whatever the case was as unreal as it seemed, it didn't feel like just a dream.

While managing to wash myself at their insistence, I pondered about who this Aloura truly was. Based on the team of women who had come to prepare me for whatever was happening, she was obviously important and about to be thrust into some sort of marriage. The frantic energy in the room made it clear these women were familiar with her, and whatever reality awaited me in her stead beyond this chamber, it was evidently a hurried, chaotic one.

After a hasty scrub, I was ushered to a dressing screen where the dark-haired girl and Lacy quickly wrapped me into a corset and gown. The fabric was nothing like the puffy Disney gowns I’d seen—the gown hugged my form elegantly, allowing movement without restraint.

They spun me around, styling my hair into intricate curls and pinning it in place. The door swung wide open, and the stout woman from earlier scowled at me.

“That’s a surprise,” she snorted, almost incredulously.

“I—” I started, but the words faltered as she rushed to the arterial path of the hall, beckoning me to follow.

“Miss!” Lacy’s voice squeaked from behind me, and I turned to find her presenting a delicate, ivory veil.

Confusion replaced my already muddled thoughts. “Uh, no thanks?” I replied hesitantly, grappling with my surprise.

“Aloura! You know the rules! No man should see your face until you are married, unless he is your father or brother,” the stout woman snapped, the edge of her harsh tone suggesting that defiance was not an option.

Although I wasn’t getting married, the insistence of these women pressed upon me heavily. The anxiety clawed at my stomach, but I conceded. Lacy stretched on her tiptoes, securing the veil over my hair.

This was nothing like anything I had ever experienced. Was I seriously stepping into the role of someone I had never met?

With my heart pounding in my chest, I traipsed after the stout woman, guided down a long, elaborately decorated corridor. The weight of uncertainty cloaked me like the gown I wore, restricting clarity.

At last, we reached a grand hall filled with ornate decorations and the chatter of guests who stood in clusters. My body stiffened at the sight of men and women of high standing adorned in finery, their eyes sweeping over me as if appraising an exquisite work of art.

“Your father is waiting in the antechamber. The guests are arriving at the front,” the woman instructed tersely, her eyes flashing with a mixture of authority and impatience.

As I stood at the threshold, clutching the gown and feeling the veil heavy over my face, I felt lost in the sea of expectations.

What if I was mistaken for Aloura? Would there be dire consequences if I failed in her stead?

The chamber buzzed with laughter and conversations, unaware of the tumultuous thoughts racing through my mind. However, I couldn’t hide from my circumstance forever. With every breath, the whispers of an impending match rang like a distant bell, awakening a sense of adventure, challenge, and perhaps opportunity.

“Aloura, don’t keep them waiting!” The stout woman urged, propelling me forward yet again.

"Listen, Aloura, I was serious earlier. This is the last chance we need to secure this relationship. You may not care, but for the good of the kingdom, you have a duty. And we need strong allies that are invested in the freedoms of our society. You're the only heir, and as such, it's up to you to impress King Ryker. For once in your life, do what's needed of the Princess of Ashdown. Same as your mother before she passed, same as I did afterward. This is the sacrifice royalty makes for the privileged life we get," The stout woman who i recognized was dressed in the same grandeur and finery whispered as she drug me along.

And so, I stepped into the room, heart pounding as I embraced the mystery and complexity of the life that unfolded before me. There was no turning back.