Aloura, a journey of the Dimensions Book 1

A Fatherly Moment

Having sated my hunger, I decided to explore this strange world that had become my unintended prison. I had been too fixated on the meal to truly appreciate my surroundings until now.

Walking to the edge of the balcony, my breath caught in my throat. I stood at least two stories high, overlooking a stone courtyard bustling with soldiers in shining armor, stables filled with spirited horses, and expansive training grounds where warriors honed their skills. Beyond this busy scene lay a sprawling city, its wooden roofs and ancient stones stretching out towards the horizon, culminating at the edge of the ocean where ships bobbed gracefully in the harbor.

The land was resplendent, adorned with rolling hills and lush forests that painted the landscape in a palette reminiscent of a fairytale. Lost in its beauty, I felt a profound sense of peace, a stark contrast to the noise and pollution of my own world. As I stood there, my thoughts drifted aimlessly, intoxicated by the serene stillness.

“Aloura,” my father’s voice broke through my reverie, startling me. My father! I turned to find him standing behind me, a figure who bore an uncanny resemblance to the man I had known all my life. He wore no crown now; his gruff exterior and stern expression hinted at a strained relationship between him and his daughter that resembled nothing to my own.

“What are you doing out here?” he continued, concern tangling with skepticism in his voice.

“I was eating breakfast,” I replied, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions surging within me. “I wanted some fresh air and got caught up looking at the view.”

“The view?” His brow furrowed. He sighed as he stepped toward me, resting his hands on the railing. “I understand leaving will be difficult, but Aloura, you’ve chased away and rejected every prince. All of them were second in line. They would have remained here, and so would you. This future is what you chose for yourself. King Ryker has always sought Ashdown, and this marriage will happen regardless. He is a man of immense ambition with a fearsome army and navy, intent on expanding his kingdom. I doubt you could chase him away even if you tried.”

“Chase him away?” I echoed, bewildered. How could I, a timid soul who avoids confrontation, engage in such matters of the heart? This Aloura, whose life I was now living, felt like a stranger to me.

“Yes, like you did with the princes. Your attitude and sharp wit ran them off; do not feign ignorance.” The king rubbed his beard, frustration etched in every line of his face. “King Ryker, however, is not a polished young prince. You are the key to his claim on Ashdown. I never wished this for you.”

As I absorbed his words, I studied the man who looked and sounded just like my own father. Anguish shadowed his eyes, weariness weighed heavily on his shoulders, and I could sense the burden of his expectations resting squarely upon me.

I found myself reaching out, placing my hand over his. An ache blossomed in my heart as I looked at this man—this loving mirror of my own father. “I’ll do my best, Father. If this is my fate, I will make you proud,” I said, an instinctive promise escaping my lips despite the uncertainty clawing at my mind. The strong desire to bring him pride was something I recognized all too well, a mirror of my own life.

“Really?” He sounded astonished, disbelief weaving through his words. “Aloura, I have spent years accepting you for who you are. To hear you say this now… it warms my heart.”

Before I could process his words, he enveloped me in an embrace. The familiar scent, the warmth, the raw emotion—it was everything I missed from my own father. Tears escaped my eyes, slipping down my cheeks as I clung to him. “I miss you,” I thought, though the words remained unspoken.

“Ah, daughter,” he said, gently wiping my tears away, “do not cry. Perhaps he will not be as terrible as the tales suggest. Once you bear an heir, maybe he will allow you to return home for a time.” He spoke, trying to soothe me, unaware that it was not the prospect of marrying a stranger that grieved me, but the reality of being close to a father I yearned for daily.

Wiping my tears away, I managed a smile. “It will all be alright. Life is what we make of it, and I will make the best of what comes.”

“Your mother would be proud of your words,” he replied, a proud gleam igniting in his eyes. “Perhaps you should let your lady’s maid escort you through the gardens. Take in the beauty while you have the chance, daughter; this palace is your home and your blood. Relish it while you can.”

With that, he took my arm and led me back toward the doors of the study, and as we stepped out into the hall, Lacy, my lady’s maid, stood waiting as if she had been assigned to guard the entrance.

“Girl,” my father said to her with a commanding tone, “please escort the princess through the gardens.”

Lacy curtsied, “Yes, Your Majesty, of course.”

As he pulled the veil back down over my face and departed, Lacy turned, leading the way. I followed her, my heart a tumultuous blend of anxiety and hope, wondering what awaited me in this beautiful yet bewildering reality where I was meant to be someone else entirely.

For now, a dream, a coma or dead, I decided to just embrace whatever this weird reality was, as it didn't appear that it was just an alarm clock buzz away from ending.