The next thing I knew, I was stumbling down the carpeted hallway of the royal palace, muttering curses under my breath while hoping to death that not a single soul would see me shirtless with the lower half of my upper body bloodily wrapped like some kind of discount mummy.
"You'll see." See what, Kat? SEE WHAT?! What am I supposed to see?! Why can't you ever give me a straight answer, you moronic menace??? One moment, you were crying your heart out while thanking the Princeps for my recovery. The next moment, you were being cryptic with eyes that sparkled more than the stars themselves!
Beneath me were red carpets, embroidered with golden lines on each side that followed the path all the way down the hall. My feet would slap off the carpet, echoing down the hall with the sound of muffled footsteps.
The morning sun poured in through the large arched windows evenly spaced down the hall to my right... serene, yes, but somehow it added to the weird knot I felt in the pit of my stomach, as if each step I took toward the conference room was getting me closer to a life-changing event.
Katarina De Astra Sora Knight. My sweet, sweet sister. I absolutely loathe you and your mood swings. Why can't you just be a good twin and tell me what's up?
But noooooo, that would ruin the fun. I bet that's what she thought. Honestly, I bet she's probably thinking of how I'd react to whatever news I'm about to get hit with and then laugh over it.
Oh great... A maid.
Looks like my prayers were unanswered as a maid with dark hair and too many towels in her arms strolled down the opposite side and stared at me like some kind of ghost crawling out of bed—which, to be honest... isn't far off the truth. I almost wanted to ask if she was okay, but then she bowed before quickly scurrying away.
Fairs.
I dragged a hand through my hair and exhaled loudly because every part of me protested, even my soul... I think?
But as I continued to plod down the hall while bracing against the left wall with my hand, a thought hit me harder than Iliam's weak ass ever could.
I forgot to ask Sis who healed me. Damn it, I wanted to know how they did it.
I reached the end of the corridor, and in front of me was the double door; behind said double door was the conference room I was oh so excited to enter.
The door, much like every other door in this damn palace, was carved from dark cedarwood, polished so finely that the gold inlays tracing its surface gleamed under the sun. Patterns of roaring dragons and sweeping wings stretched across each panel, symbols of our royal house.
Two armored knights stood statuesquely at either side of the door. Their eyes flicked toward me, down to my blood-crusted bandages, then back up.
If they were surprised to see me alive and strolling around like this, they hid it about as well as Kat hides her emotions. She sucks at hiding emotions. One of them blinked rapidly, as if to make sure what he saw was right. The other swallowed and tightened their grip around the hilt of their upright spear.
"Morning," I gleefully greeted, giving them a lazy wave with all the grandeur of a man who definitely shouldn't be alive right now.
"Morning, Sir!" They both shouted out.
Too stiff. Yeesh.
I sighed, planting my palm against the right door. The wood was cool and grounding under my skin. The doors creaked open slowly, and then I stepped inside.
I expected a lecture or two, maybe a meeting to figure out who tried to assassinate me. But nope.
The girl from… whatever dream I saw before waking up.
The girl who was covered in blood.
The girl whose body I'd held.
The girl whose crimson eyes had been lifeless.
Now she was very much alive, very much breathing, very much seated and drinking coffee in the conference room, which Sis said to go to.
And now that I saw her well and alive, I recognized her.
Ariana Aredhel. Princess of the Demon Continent.
Other than the desk at the other end of the room, there were two black leather couches on each side of an oak wooden table in the middle of the conference room. Ariana was seated with damn near perfect posture that would give Iliam a run for his money on the right couch, with whom I would assume to be her father, the Demon King, beside her.
Dark brown hair, smooth as satin, framed her face and spilled past her shoulders in a loose, tied-down ponytail. The butterfly-shaped clip securing the end caught the sunlight streaming through the windows just enough to give an elegant glint of sorts.
She looked up at me, judging me with round eyes, large and bright. Crimson red, steady and unblinking. Eyes that stared up at me, void of any soul.
Her features were exactly as I remembered from… whatever that was before I woke up. Every detail matched: from the soft cupid-shaped lips to her impossibly smooth porcelain skin, even that damn little beauty mark that I'd instinctively caressed in the dream like a complete moron remained in the same spot, beneath the corner of her left eye.
My stomach flipped so hard I nearly vomited on the carpet.
It was impossible to tell humans and demons apart from looks alone, but her beauty was too ethereal. No human could ever compare. Honestly, no demon or elf either. This was cheating. She was cheating.
Ariana wore a perfectly fitted, sleeveless, modest dress of deep red and black embroidered lightly at the seams in a way that made her look even more refined. She also donned black sleeves starting just below her shoulders, trailing all the way down to her hands but skipping her fingers entirely. Instead, each sleeve ended in a thin loop around the center of each of her middle fingers, like it was some type of ring.
Ridiculous. Ridiculously pretty.
I think I stared too long. No—actually, I know I stared too long. Because the moment my brain restarted, I noticed her eyes narrowing ever so slightly and her fingers tightening together on her lap.
Perfect... I bothered her. Usually, I'd think to myself, who cares what she thinks? I'm Sora Knight, the best of the best. Or something like—how dare she? I'm Sora Knight.
And to an extent, that was what I was thinking, but tinged with an underlying tone of dread. I felt a strange sensation I had never felt before: this need to protect her. Who even was she? I know she's Ariana Aredhel, but who was she? Why did her bothersome of me actually well... bother me? And why, why was I holding her in my dream?
Never mind, I'm just really tired and thinking too much; a good bath and some extra rest, plus the two days I already had, should do the trick.
Still... seeing her so soon after dreaming of her in a dream that felt too real to be a regular dream, which I hope was still a normal dream. Despite never meeting before. It still felt like too much at once.
I stumbled backwards slightly, almost collapsing.
Thankfully, Mother got to me first.