I Wish

Chapter 25

The next time I woke up, I was alone. My throat burned, and the less said about the state of my nose the better. I could remember what had happened, and while I felt sick to my stomach doing so, Still in the dream bed, and strangely more than anything else the part where it all existed as I remembered it was really freaky. I didn’t like the way this place felt normal, the understated luxury made it clear that I was very far from normal. It took maybe five minutes, five glorious minutes in between those outstanding sheets, before I got up. As comfortable as this bed was, I was awfully curious about… well, pretty much anything I could come across here. I had the feeling that I was so far from home that if I started spotting munchkins, or something, it wouldn’t have surprised me much more than anything else here. The window was my first stop, before even trying the door because I thought it would be a good idea to get a better look at where I was. I considered the part where I didn’t have much of a plan, even if I did leave the room, it wasn’t like I even had an objective I could foister off as a plan.

The windows were huge and arched in shape. The glass in the window pane stained and formed patterns. Unusual, I hadn’t seen colours like this before. Stained-glass was usually heavy on pigment. Dark blues, greens, yellows, and reds exclusively to the best of my knowledge. I’ll admit I didn’t have a lot of knowledge on the subject, and I’ll do it quite freely. It didn’t make any difference to the highlighter intense colours they had pulled off instead. Ice blue, lilac purple, bubblegum babe pink, neon green, and a yellow that popped like you wouldn’t be able to believe. Gazing through it quickly became apparent that this was a CASTLE. I s**t you not, it was an actual proper tower I was residing in, in a real and proper castle, and the view from here was insane.

“Whoa,” I gasped, it was hard to see much, but it was still so beautiful. For a moment, I put my hand on the wooden panelling of the frame. Something there, it gave me a jolt and left a small mark on my hand that glowed for a couple of moments before disappearing. As did the glass in the window, and oh my god…. I couldn’t breathe. This was just so surreal. Once about five years back my family took a trip to the Gold Coast and long story short we got on the giant drop in Dreamworld, and I had never been so high in my entire life. You could see so much of the city before you went plummeting. This made that look like nothing. This made the Q1’s sky point observation deck seem like it was middling at best, and that thing had been so high up it had scared the crap out of me. The rush of warm wind blew through the open window, and I swallowed. Suddenly, I was a lot more nervous than had been when there was glass. Now that I could actually see the building, it didn’t do anything to help my newly fearful state. The whole damn castle looked like it was put together with rocks, boulders, the barest minimum requirements for concrete, moss, and magic. Lots and lots of magic. It looked like a fairy palace, and then I snorted, unable to help myself. Ivy lived here. Safe money said it really was a fairy palace. Clumsily I placed my hand back where I had to make the glass disappear in the first place and much to my relief it reappeared. 

My next order of business was to get exploring. If Ivy thought she could just leave me here like a pet when their owner goes out, then she was in for a rude surprise. I pondered if I should change out of the pyjamas I was wearing before I ultimately decided that Ivy, and anyone else, could lump it. I wanted to be comfy. The door wasn’t locked, and there were two ways that I could opt to go. One led down to the castle proper, the other led upwards. To what, I didn’t know. Not knowing made it seem infinitely more interesting, but on the other hand, there would be a better chance of meeting someone if I went downstairs. In the end, although I’d say it was so I didn’t have to go back for a check later, I wasn’t ready for people. Nothing hurt, there were no marks or reminders. Nothing to say about anything that happened at all. Time heals all wounds. Well, not all of them, but you get the sentiment that they are trying to share. There had been no time to heal, and now my brain was busy screaming that I was still injured when I wasn’t. There had been no time to heal, just a body that presented evidence that I was, in fact, already healed. I wasn’t sure how to explain it better than that, but that was the gist. Body said we were fine, and then my brain looked at them and went, ‘Uh-ah, no. Just no. I don’t care how fine you feel. This is not okay.’  

While I was contemplating all of this, my feet climbed the stone steps until I hit the top. An arched door because from what I could see this place was really fond of arches as a shape, opened to the roof. A large square block of concrete with a stone wall running along the outside. Grass growing in between the cracks, and an overly abundant amount of moss, leaving patches of grey in minority. Garden boxes were everywhere. More flowers than I could name off the top of my head, period, filling every single one of them. Pink climbing roses heavily decorated a trellis in the left-hand corner. A two-seater swing seat sitting in the corner. 

“Hello?” a feminine voice chimed. I flinched, apparently less prepared to meet people than I had been willing to admit, and cast my gaze around to the source of it. A tan, buttercream blonde was lying on her back almost in the flowers.

“Hi?” I said back, and cursed internally at the way it had sounded like a question. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and I wondered if they would speak again before she wiped the surprise away as if it had never been there. Pure mischief crossed her face as she sat up perkily. 

“Consort Rose,” she called exuberantly, “How are you on this fine day?” For the first time since it happened, someone called me Rose,, and it didn’t make me mad. Now it just made me so relieved because I knew what people would pull to get ahold of it,, and I was so glad that Ivy had safeguarded it. She called me by the name Ivy had given me, and I didn’t remember ever giving it to her. That wasn’t the part I wanted clarification of, though. 

“Consort?” I questioned her rudely, and felt rather on the back foot. There was nothing about the way that she jumped up and made her way excitedly over to me that was out of the ordinary, but something told me that I’d just been had.

“Yes, Queen Ivy’s consort?” she said politely, and acting confused. It would have seemed a lot more genuine if it wasn’t for the part where she seemed to take a deep sense of personal glee in giving me this information. The only reason why I didn’t physically choke was because of how closely the other girl watched me. I would definitely be freaking out about this later, because, of course. Of bloody course she was a queen, my life was a literal fairy tale. Please note, the words literal fairy tale is pronounced with the same amount of disgust as the phrase literal nightmare.

“Hmm,” I hummed with a tight smile, “She’s in big, big trouble.” The girl laughed, executing a careless looking curtsy, and held her hand out. 

“Oh, wow. You really are new here,” she chuckled, “I’m Lady Nia, and if there is a way I can be of service I will be happy to hear it.” That statement rubbed me the wrong way immensely, for all that I couldn’t put my finger on why. 

“You seem oddly respectful,” I said, squeezing Nia’s hand lightly before withdrawing, “Nobody else treated her much different from anyone else, let alone me.”

“Ah, she took you to see those court-less heathens. They have no manners. Barbarians,” she said with a light shiver, “I certainly hope you told her exactly how-low class her date plan was. She should have brought you here, so you could be afforded the respect that you deserve.” Pull the other one, I thought blandly after her little performance, it’s got bells on it. 

“No basis for comparison, I’m afraid,” I said, trying not to commit to anything with my words, “Now why don’t we sit down and have a lovely little girl chat about my wife the queen, and you can feel me in on everything else you thought I had already known.” Her lips were an intense baby pink colour, and the corners of them were pulled up so high, it was any wonder her mouth didn’t crash clean into her ears.

“I would be absolutely delighted,” Nia said brightly, gesturing to find somewhere to sit. “I promise, I won't waste my time with anything but the finest gossip.” Gossip, huh? That could be… useful.

“I think,” I told her slyly, “That we’re going to be friends.” Nia looked at me like she’d just scored a perfect victory, and I thought it was amusing that she thought that she’d won. Let the games begin.