Two Thousand Years | The Empire Saga #1

Chapter Nine

Wherever she was, she didn't want to leave.

Maybe she was in yet another of those prophetic dreams Treyan alluded to earlier, but the comfort she felt from the glow surrounding her was a comfort she didn't want to let go of. The warmth felt amazing as it covered her skin like a blanket, and the tension in her muscles seemed to float away. She allowed herself to let go of all her cares and closed her eyes, sinking further into the comfort.

The distraction was a pleasant one. She didn't want to think about a Prophecy, or feuding brothers, or becoming empress to a fantasy empire. How so much could happen in so little time—how long had it been, anyway? —she wanted to forget about it all, if only for that moment. Wherever she was, she knew the peace wouldn't remain, and the harsh reality of what had become her life would be there waiting for her, ready to bombard her existence yet again.

She just didn't expect the calm to be interrupted by the grip of hands beneath her armpits hauling her out of a bathtub, her wet skin surprisingly cold against the warm air, causing her nipples to harden and goosebumps to form.

How the hell did she end up in a bath?

She sputtered and thrashed to get away from the hands that held her, water splashing up and over the edge of the tub and soaking not only the washroom floor, but Treyan behind her, whose curses were the only thing that made her realize that harsh reality was truly back.

Easing herself onto the edge of the tub, freezing and completely naked, she gasped for breath as she tried to calm her panic. But she whipped her head toward the damp prince standing beside her, demanding an answer with the glare she gave him.

"You started burning up with a fever the moment we returned," he tried to explain. "I put you in the bath to bring your temperature down." But the look on his face indicated, at least at that moment, that though he was attempting to help her, he wasn't just looking to save her life. And the moment a single glance drifted below her neck, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face.

"Ow!" he hissed, bringing a hand to his reddened cheek. "What the hell was that for?"

"That was for taking...liberties!"

"You were drowning!"

"I was ... what?!"

"Your head was under the water. I didn't want you to kill yourself."

"I was not going to kill myself."

"You're right, because I was right there to save you."

He moved over to a nearby cabinet and began pulling out soft-looking towels, but she continued to peer at him as she crossed her chilled arms over her bare chest. "Were you watching me?" She didn't just mean at that moment, while she was in the bath, as the conversation that transpired between he and Reylor began to slowly return.

He didn't give her any indication he acknowledged her insinuation. "No, I was not," he assured her, though he refused to meet her gaze. But he lingered by the cabinet, and she swore she heard an uneasy chuckle escape while he began to toy with various items on a shelf above her line of sight, looking anywhere but at her.

Lucky for him, Alex had a decent throwing arm, and a bar of soap got his attention as it hit him on the back of the head.

"Rhaid," he cursed, spinning back to face her. "Now what?"

"You were spying on me!" She threw her arms up in exasperation as she swung her legs around and began to stand from the tub, the touch of the cool stone floor beneath her feet sending a shiver straight through her. "I don't even know why you took it upon yourself in the first place. Doesn't a Crown Prince have anything better to do than watch me in a bath? Isn't that something handmaidens should be assigned to?"

"Yes, but your Mistresses won't be assigned to you until the day of the coronation," he started to explain, finally approaching her with a towel in hand. "And like I said, I wanted to make sure the fever broke—"

"And whose fault was that?"

"I have no control over how your body reacts to the dreams," he assured her with a tinge of defensiveness in his tone as he handed her the towel.

She took it with a scowl and began to wrap it around her damp form. "You're the one who wanted to see. Were you happy with that you discovered?" The less she thought about that dream, the better, but still—he owed her answers for having to relive being touched by that monster again.

His eyes darkened as he watched her. "He's become more ambitious than I thought, and the power he was able to—" He shook his head, trailing off, some of the light returning to his gaze. "We're not going to discuss this now. Like I said, I was merely looking out for your well-being. If I wasn't, you would have remained under the surface of that water, so if anything, I was doing you a favor."

"I wasn't, I mean, I didn't..." Letting out a frustrated growl, she moved to stalk out of the washroom, but paused before she crossed the threshold. Her attention snagged on the rest of the candle-lit room around her, or rather, on what she couldn't see. "Where are my clothes?"

He smirked and only shrugged.

"Fine." She glared, and still wrapped in only the towel, walked out of the room.

It wasn't until she was five steps through the door that she realized she wasn't in her room anymore. She thought her quarters were well-furnished, but this room knocked everything else out of the proverbial ballpark.

Swords, armor, and gear of all different metals, makes, and manner hung around the room, interspersed with bright paintings and detailed maps in elaborate frames decorating each wall, painted in a rich sapphire to accompany the room's gold and white décor. At the center stood a large four-post bed, much like one she had woken up in the other room, covered in plush down duvets and warm comforters in cream and gold. On either side of the bed was a night table in rich mahogany, each containing piles of books and documents with half-melted tapers in golden candle holders.

Along the far wall stood a row of similar glass doors she was certain would have led out to a balcony if the world beyond wasn't pitch black, each framed by heavy cobalt brocade and velvet curtains that seemed to be crafted to keep out the light of day when drawn closed. What finally caught her attention, however, was what was waiting in front of her.

A slight 'oh' escaped her lips.

She would have overlooked the small table if it wasn't for the single red rose as its centerpiece. She walked to the sitting area on the other side of the bed, and there she viewed the table covered in white linen donning various breads, fruits and cheeses.

She was suddenly very hungry, but before she could approach the spread before her, Treyan came up behind her, placing a soft, warm, plush robe upon her shoulders. His hands remained on her shoulders as she slid her arms into the sleeves, allowing the towel to fall to the floor and pile at her feet, and from behind he whispered into her ear.

"Dinner is served, my Empress."