My Angel from the Star

CHAPTER 3

TAVIAN'S P.O.V

It was just a few days before the grand ball, and I wasn't feeling well—physically or mentally. The persistent headaches tormented me, accompanied by fleeting, unsettling images that flashed through my mind. Sleepless nights and cryptic dreams only added to my malaise, leaving me in a perpetual state of exhaustion and confusion.

The King had decreed a family dinner for this evening. Both Collin and Jandra had suggested informing the King about my condition, but I vehemently disagreed. I had even secured their promise to keep my ailment a secret.

I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away my fatigue. After dressing, I scrutinized my reflection in the mirror, straightening my posture and forcing a semblance of health. The last thing I wanted was anyone suspecting I was ill.

I made my way to the dining chamber, with Collin trailing behind me, his concern palpable but unspoken. As we entered, I saw that everyone was already seated. I offered a polite apology for my tardiness and took my seat.

"You're late, Tavian," my stepmother, the Queen, remarked, her tone sharp and disapproving. Her dislike for me was thinly veiled, a constant undercurrent in our interactions.

"I apologize, Your Majesty," I replied, forcing a smile. "I lost track of time."

The room was grand, with high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings and chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow over the long dining table. The table itself was set with an array of fine dishes, each one meticulously prepared by the royal chefs.

"My sons," the King began, his voice resonant and commanding, "the grand ball is fast approaching. Are you all prepared?"

"Yes, we are," everyone said, giving their affirmation. There was an eerie silence, and then the King spoke. "What's your definition of a perfect wife?"

Everyone looked at the King, shocked, as we weren't used to that kind of conversation. However, I kept my gaze on my meal; I obviously had other things to bother about.

Eadrick,spoke first. "Yes, Father. I think a perfect wife should be someone who knows how to manage the household and stay out of the way."

The Queen's lips curled into a small, approving smile, but my father's expression remained neutral. Gravus and Thraine, my other brothers, quickly chimed in with similar, equally uninspired sentiments.

Gravus shrugged. "Someone who looks pretty and doesn't ask too many questions."

Thraine added, "As long as she has a good dowry and a pleasant demeanor, she will do."

The Queen nodded slightly, seeming satisfied with their answers, but I could see a flicker of disappointment in the King's eyes. He turned to me expectantly. "And you, Tavian? What do you think makes a perfect wife?"

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "Father, I believe a perfect wife is someone who is not only kind and intelligent but also someone who shares a genuine connection with her husband. She should have a strong spirit, capable of standing by her husband's side through both triumphs and tribulations."

The King's face lit up with admiration. "Well said, Tavian. A marriage built on mutual respect and understanding is indeed the foundation of a strong kingdom."

The Queen's expression darkened with jealousy, her eyes narrowing as she glanced between the King and me. She loathed any progress I made, seeing it as a threat to her I guess

"Tavian," the Queen interjected, her voice dripping with false concern, "where were you the other day? I heard you drank so much you passed out for days. We were all so worried about you."

I knew what she was trying to do, but I maintained my composure. "A warrior needs some time to think and calm his mind," I answered politely. "It's a warrior thing, Your Majesty. You wouldn't understand."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she managed to maintain her facade of concern. The King, however, seemed satisfied with my response and moved on to other topics.

As the evening wore on, I found it increasingly difficult to maintain my facade of wellness. The headache was becoming unbearable, and the room seemed to blur around the edges.

"Father, may I be excused?" I asked, rising from my seat. "I have some matters to attend to and would like to retire for the night."

The King nodded, his concern evident. "Of course, Tavian. Rest well."

I made my way out of the dining chamber, Collin following closely. As we walked through the dimly lit corridors towards my chambers, the images came back with a vengeance. Pain seared through my head, and I bent over, clutching my temples.

"Your majesty" Collin exclaimed, rushing to support me. "Let's get you to your room."

He practically supported me the rest of the way, guiding me gently to my bed. The pain began to subside as I lay down, but the images still danced at the edge of my consciousness, taunting me with their obscurity.

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting heavily. My heart raced as if I had been running for miles. I clenched the bedspread tightly, my knuckles white, before finally releasing it as I realized where I was—my room. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, eerie glow over the furniture. It was already midnight, and the stillness of the night only amplified the pounding in my chest.

After a few moments of catching my breath, a screeching noise pierced my mind, echoing within my skull. I bent over, clutching my head as the pain intensified, feeling as though my brain was being torn apart. After what felt like an eternity, I heard a familiar voice, one that had haunted my nightmares. Shocked but not scared, I scanned the room, my eyes darting around as different voices seemed to fill the space, overlapping and chaotic.

“Arrrggghhh,” I groaned, collapsing to the ground. The voices were relentless, calling out to me, saying different things in a cacophony of whispers and shouts. Then, just as suddenly as they had started, they stopped. I managed to get up, my legs trembling, and turned on the lamp. The warm light flooded the room, chasing away the shadows, but my breath still came in heavy gasps.

Desperate for relief, I put on a shirt and pants and stepped out onto the balcony of my chamber. The cool night air hit my face, and I inhaled deeply, hoping it would calm my frayed nerves. The night was serene, the sky dotted with stars, and the full moon hung low, casting a silver sheen over the gardens below. I looked at the moon, trying to steady myself, when suddenly, a sharp, searing pain pierced my heart. This time, I heard just one voice calling me, clear and insistent. The pain was excruciating, lasting for minutes and forcing me to bend over.

When I finally stood up straight, a single tear rolled down my cheek. I wasn't sure why I wasn't scared. Was it the familiarity of the pain? The voices? What was all this emotion swirling inside me?



I looked up at the sky, feeling a strange mix of dread and determination. Within seconds, I dashed out of my room, driven by a sense of urgency I couldn’t explain. The corridors were dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows that danced on the walls. My footsteps echoed in the silence as I made my way through the castle, my mind racing with unanswered questions.