Blue Blood and Belgium Chocolate

|09| Of Nightmares

PRINCE DAEGAN

Age: 32 years old

I JOLT UPRIGHT, my fingers clutching the blanket and my throat hoarse. I'm panting as though I'd actually done a run. I reached upwards to the cabinet to grab a glass of water left each night by my bed. 

I push myself upright, sleeping on the floor was not comfortable, but it promised that I wouldn't roll of the bed and risk any injury to my leg. The doctor had picked up on my bruises always on my left side and worried that I risked injuring my leg more than it already has been injured. I refuse to let that happen. 

The water is cold against my tongue. I drink it down finishing it within a second. But a glass of water held little to sooth the nightmares. They didn't stop as much as I wished it would.

The ground is hard, it's never been soft. Carefully avoiding injuring or worsening the condition of my weak leg, I do my best to get off the ground. 

I don't bother to glance at the time. It's too early, there's no sunshine. I close my eyes, the pounding of my heart loud. I am safe, I think. It's what my physiotherapist suggested me to think. My fear of losing my leg was preventing me from healing. 

I need to begin to feel safe, but how can I be when I worry on the guards, if they're actually guarding us? I change into something more appropriate. A black shirt and running shorts that look like a different shade of black. As I try to pull the shorts up my leg, I feel a sharp sting. I flinch. This is nothing to the pain of damaging my leg had felt. I force it up my leg. Once I'm dressed, I opened the door to exit my bedroom. 

A girl had been standing in front of it, she jumps as the guard turns, and she's bowing before I can fully open the door, "Your highness," her voice is cool. "How may we be of assistance?"

"What are you doing outside my door?" I ask cautious.

"His highness, we're following Prince Adaliz instructions," She raises her head up to meet my eyes. She's tall, almost Fabianne's height, about 5 foot 8. She pushes back a lock of dirty blonde hair. 

I blink, Adaliz instructed to have a guard outside my door? Shame fills me. This is to prevent last weeks incident. I knew my father was being too nice about this. There's no way he was willing to let this slide, not without some reassurance this wouldn't occur. I'd heard the maids when they came to clean my room. They'd gossiped that I was mad.

And I had been. 

"Your highness," The voice comes again.

I glance back at her, I nod, "Thank you soldier."

I close the doors. 

I've been feeling like a rock that was crumbling. Rocks were not made to crumble. They were strong in the face of adversity, the never moved. They were the one, you can rely on.

I'm not reliable. I'm crumbling. I barely can sleep, there's circles under my eyes. As days past, my nightmares get worse and worse. I've called everyone in Quadrant 4, only to not have anyone answer. When I called our commander, I learnt they'd been dispatched. He couldn't tell me when they're back.

Quadrant 4. The thought calms me, and like a drowning man. I hold on to them.

Our memories.

There's Locke, with his golden blonde hair. He was built like a warrior of old. Solid and strong. He was the next strongest to me, now he's the strongest. He was always smoking a cigarette.  A habit we used to try to get him to kick.