1 | The Terrible Dreamer

Chapter 10

WISH

Waking up this morning, or rather I should say late afternoon, is nothing short of work and determination. My body hurts, worn out from not only running for my life, but dreamwalking to Akane. There's a vast difference in energy spent between slipping into someone's dreams and opening the door to another planet. Today, my whole body wants to curl into a ball under my comforter and lay in bed for two days straight. My mind has other plans. It doesn't help the first thing I remember about that whole incident is Vear.

The Heartless King. A man who wears a cruel smile—who has a terrifying skill with a blade that sometimes you don't know you're dead until it's too late. Or so I've been told. But the way he looked at me with so much fear, clinging to his scar, tells me there's more to this man than the persona he's letting on. I shouldn't be thinking about him. I should be thanking the gods and stars and whatever higher power that exists that I'm still alive.

Yet those eyes... those haunting dark eyes keep drawing me in.

"Wish! Are you awake?" Aiya leans out of her bathroom ensuite, dressed and ready to impress. I mumble a reply into the feather pillow. "Good. Thought you were dead for a second." She goes back to fiddling with her earrings. "I left your dress in the closet."

With a groan, I sit up. My bones pop and ache with one last stretch to start the day. Her bed is a King size, it takes a few difficult tossing and scooting to get to the edge, and once I do I nearly trip and fall. Her floor is littered with designer shoes and hand bags and whatever is her mother decides to buy her for the week. As if buying things will make up for not loving her.

When I head into the walk-in closet, one of Aiya's expensive black dresses hangs on a hook, waiting for me to slip on. It's basic, not too flashy or making me stand out than I already do. A dress that will help me blend in, observe, and dissect the rich as they prowl the hall and gossip to their hearts content.

My watch beeps. I forgot to take it off last night. It's already down to ten percent, won't even last through the whole dinner. I rub at my left wrist before checking the message. It's a text from Mom: I'm at the Main House helping with last minute details. Tell Aiya to hurry up. Mara's not in a good mood today.

I scoff. When is she ever.

We still have ten minutes left before the Gathering begins, but we're already late by an hour according to Andreatte standards. It won't make a difference if we're late even more. But I get dressed anyway, sliding the silky material over my hips and struggling to zip up the side.

We're the same size in everything, except for one major detail—I'm an inch taller than her. The skirts length is a bit too short, hitting mid-thigh, almost borderline shameless, but there's nothing I can do. I don't have a change of clothes worthy of the Gathering dress code and Aiya would be upset I rejected her dress. We're already gone down that road before.

As I leave the closet to grab a pair of heels, Aiya's tossing more into the pile. Her diffuser is at full blast, misting the room in calming aromas of florals and vanilla. It's not working. Aiya tosses another pair before I even get a chance to look. It doesn't take long for me to find a simple pair that will look good with her sapphire dress.

She takes them in for a moment, leaning against her ornate mirror, then smiles so warm it's like all her anger and stress is a passing mirage. "Thank you," Aiya says, and swiftly tugs them on, light pink, a warm contrast to her dark brown skin. "Let me do your hair."

Her fingers are gentle on my scalp, warm and tingly, they feel like home. It relieves a bit of tension in my shoulders and helps calm my own nerves about this whole event. No matter how many times we do this, I hate mingling among the rich.