All day, I've been checking for flaws, anything to hint that there has been a leak of Nightmare. Upon inspecting my indoor garden, I found no withering flowers. That one camilla that drooped days ago had straightened as though given new life. I studied the flower carefully, noting its new creamy petals and brightly green stem. How it revived, I couldn't explain, but it almost felt like an imposter, a mirage to what was really going on. Or could I just be paranoid?
Next, I checked the East Wing's mural. The masterpiece hanging over my head was all bright and superb, as though it had only been painted yesterday. It almost looked too refreshed.
I thought of checking for the monstrous Door itself, a bit afraid after pulling each lantern to find the right switch. My heart pounded with the countdown of one lantern after another. I tugged only to feel each rigid in place. After yanking on the last one without success, I didn't know whether to be relieved or even more afraid.
"Princess, what are we doing here?" Someone asked. I did a double take, forgetting my chaperone. Just another Bonbon-like clone, a tall, slender thing with a rainbow tutu and pink leotard. Her blank eyes laid on me, and then I realized I'd been dragging her around all morning without even hearing a peep from her; it's no wonder I didn't notice her. I glanced at her feet, finding soft ballet flats; her steps must've been as soft as a mouse. I pressed my lips together, quick to give a prompt reply.
"Nothing. I'm just testing the lamps to make certain they all work. We don't want our guests to walk in the shadows, do we?"
My chaperone blinked, her arms straight at her sides.
"How thoughtful for the Princess to consider the working of lights," she chirped, and then she smiled widely until her lips stretched out, almost appearing painful.
I swallowed and turned away, oddly disturbed by her face. I was getting distracted, thinking back to a horrid discovery.
There was no switch.
Did I not pull hard enough at the correct lamp? Did I miss one?
I stood there in the hall, feeling a mix of panic and relief, which ultimately left confusion. I couldn't find the Door even if I wanted to. It may have been for the best, or else my Chaperone would've been a witness to the secret. Maybe the door didn't want to be found? There are so many questions and no one to ask them. Today, I've become a disheveled princess possessed, overly suspicious of every little thing, expecting dark claws or a hiss of threat to come out of nowhere. My back didn't stare into the shadows for too long, if there were any. My vision was sharp as a sword to detect the slightest irregularity of Slumberland, anything from perfect. But that was the problem…
Stealthily, I looked over my shoulder at my chaperone, and she was still smiling at me, waiting for an order or for me to move on so she could follow like a ghost.
After much wandering around the palace, I returned to my room only to stand alone on my balcony and take in the spread of Slumberland's perfect beauty. Behind the city's skyline, the sun was welcoming, warm but not too warm. Bright but not eye-blinding. Its fresh rays soaked me in warmth, leaving a desire to lie down and fall asleep like a kitten. I could stare into it all day if I wanted to without my eyes aching. The sky was as blue and soft as turquoise, not a cloud to be seen. A gentle breeze created rainbow waves across the tulip field, some petals bursting high like small confetti explosions. The cherry tree by the fountain swerved its branches, tossing blossoms in the air until it snowed in pink flurries.
Everything was perfect.
Too perfect.
I wondered if I was just being too uptight, taking my dream too seriously. Maybe it was just a beautiful day, and I could be wasting it searching for threats that weren't even there. Such thoughts didn't last long, not when a particular smell filled the air. I wouldn't have become rigid if it weren't for its nostalgic twinge. My hands curled over the stone rail and tightened until my knuckles were white.
Where was that familiar scent coming from? I scanned the scenery closer, only to spot the familiar tulips and cherry trees. There's nothing else to give away such a nostalgic smell, which I've learned to take cautiously.
I turned around, ready to return to my quarters, but stopped short. Handfuls of flowers bloomed along the ivy that decorated the door, though it was the first time I had ever seen them. I tensed my jaw as I stiffened at the sight and immediately knew where the familiar smell came from.
Roses and Jasmine.
I plucked a perfect red rose, hardly any effort needed to snap its stem off the vine, and brought it up to my nose, pretending to inhale mother's perfume. As a child, I often snuck to her vanity, dapping at her magical ointments and oils. I came out of her salon smelling like spring. Who's to say why her flowers appeared? Was she with me in spirit? Was she trying to tell me something? I studied the rose closely, feeling more confused as the day went on.
With all the buzzing in the palace for the ball, I'd expected Father to be busy delegating every task or playing with his toy trains again. That's why I was surprised to find him in his study, thanks to my smiling chaperone.
"I'll wait for your return, Your Highness," she sang, obediently waiting close by like floral wallpaper. I didn't even try to hide my dismay before turning my back to her, pretending she wasn't there.
Two guards gripped the tall doors' golden braided handles and pulled them open for me to enter, and I tiptoed in almost suspiciously, afraid to intrude.
The study was an open grand room, two stories high, with golden rails surrounding dark blue marble steps that spilled onto the floor, reminding me of The Lake of Dreams at night. Dark walls held oil paintings of stars or supported tall bookcases crammed to the inch with thick volumes of Middle Land's ancient days. Volumes of all the history that's existed since Father was alive. When I circled to eye the many shelves, I just remembered how old he truly was.
The ceiling glowed from large glass orbs circling around a golden sun: our solar system. Each day would bring in a different color, depending on which planet glowed the brightest. Today, the blue planet glimmered brilliantly, giving the entire space a gentle, melancholic hue.
This place is not only a library but an observatory of dreams.
Father was up the stairs where he spent much of his duties. I climbed slowly, finding his back to me. His large fists rested gently over his hips like a soldier, and he tilted his head to gander at Middle Land's globe before him. A giant half-dome was sitting on the floor, and it glimmered in Middle Land's real-time. I stepped closer, mesmerized by the size of such a world.
"This room was supposed to be yours," Father began, knowing I was there. He inhaled through his nose and let out an even longer exhale, his tall chest deflating. His solemn eyes were downcast at the table height of Middle Land's display, a global map of its happenings and where the dark of night fell. I walked to his side and noted the night part of Middle Land only under Father's fingertips. Scattered lands in the dark with spreads of lights; some concentrated as thick clusters of glittery specks along the oceans. The world's nightlife emitted off Father's stern face as he stared down at it all like a God, aware of all those who dream.
"If anything, this room should only be yours and yours alone," I suggested politely, knowing how much he treasured his role.
Father half smiled. "Even Gods need rest," he lamely replied. He slightly turned to finally look at me, his silver robes glistening as he moved.
"In a way, I'm lucky. I don't need any of them to believe in me to carry on my duties. Dreams happen to every living creature, no matter their beliefs. I feel sorry for the others in their realms, knowing their support is dwindling." He looked back to Middle Land, its map aglow, and waved his hand over the many lands and seas. Sprinkles of gold sand fell from his fingertips and rained upon the map only to melt into the earth. He closed his eyes and used his God-like abilities to sort through each dream belonging to millions sleeping through the night in a manner of a few seconds. My half-breed mind couldn't comprehend how that worked. After another few breaths, Father opened his eyes tiredly. "But my job makes me very tired…It's infinite."
"How will Nemo be able to do a God's job?" I pried. A magical item, an exchange of blood, or a soul-binding deal came to mind.
Father rubbed his beard, lifting an eyebrow as he eyed me, intrigued that I could come up with such an important question.
"I simply pass my abilities to him." He gave me his hand and smiled. "Through the Scepter."
I paused at his large hand and then looked up at him. "You will lose it?"
I never thought a simple gesture could pass his duties, and even so, what were the consequences?
Father nodded and dropped his hand, only to turn around and stare at his most prized possession, which was standing tall on its golden pedestal. Its globe seemed to interact with Middle Land's map, dark colors swirling with quick, blurry images of faces and happenings.
"However, the scepter will have to choose him," Father added, his tone suddenly low. I could already sense where his thoughts went: What if it doesn't choose Nemo? Bold enough, I asked such a difficult question aloud, and Father laughed.
"Then I may need to postpone my vacation for another millennium," he joked and looked me in the eye. Not finding that funny, I said nothing. He then smiled down at me and asked, "Now. What brings you to visit?"
My fingers fiddled together under my chin, and I looked away, staring blankly at a gold column.
"I…." I swallowed. Why did I want to see Father? I had no specific questions to ask or planned this visit; I just merely wanted to see him, like I needed the stability of his presence after much morning anxiety over Slumberland's well-being. If the King was well, then so must be the kingdom, and it reassured me that I was going mad.
"Just a visit," I convinced, startling myself to be admitting that. But my rare visit was about to end hastily as soon as a knock came at the doors.
Father cleared his throat. "Open!"
A guard entered and bowed his head. "Your Highness, Sir Theodore is here," he announced. Such a grand room helped his voice travel as a fine echo, easy to detect without asking someone to repeat themselves. The mention of the name had Father perk, his form growing taller, and he clapped.
"Excellent. Send him in!"
The old chap with the white wig emerged, taking to the stairs. I was uncertain how to greet him, considering I hadn't seen him since his Trine Council involvement over my matters. Theodor appeared in a similar bind, pausing when he was on the last step and bowed his head low.
"Princess, forgive my interruption," he began. He straightened, hugging a thick leather book in one arm, and fixed his glasses before forcing a smile at me. In return, I curtsied. When in doubt, do a curtsey, and no one will be offended. Father broke the tension by marching to Theodore to swallow him in a mighty hug.
"My dear friend! Nice to have you here before the party starts!" He squeezed the little man in his arms until his back cracked.
"Yes, great to be here, NOT on business," he choked, yet he appeared rather preoccupied once Father put him down. He cleared his throat and fixed his wig.
"Your Highness, c-could we t-talk?" He began to stutter, and when he glanced at me, he added, "Pr-privately?"
Father continued to smile and slammed a hand on Theodore's shoulder. The momentum tilted his body to almost fall on one side, knocking his glasses over to hang on by one ear.
"Of course! Of course," Father cheered. He tossed me that same smile and said, "Camille, I will see you at the ball." That was my queue to leave.
As I stepped through the doors with a huff, I looked over my shoulder to watch Father bring Theodore deeper into his study.
"What troubles you this time?" He asked the dreamkeeper.
"I've come bearing records of nightmares, many more than usual at home-"
That was all I heard before the doors were shut in my face, and two guards stood in my way, clearing their throats to hint to me not to eavesdrop. But that was enough.
More Nightmares in Middle Land?
What could that mean?
…
The palace was frantic with excitement, the air buzzing in every room. All the servants were busy with their tasks, humming or dancing down a corridor like spinning ballerinas. There was more jump to their step, the anticipation for the ball like a shaken can of soda pop ready to open. The sun fell too quickly, my doom timer when all the party lights shot into the starry sky to announce where all the action of Slumberland was held.
Garlands of silk and pastel-colored flowers surrounded every rail and stairway. Lanterns were lit and decorated with bows, chandeliers were littered with hangings of silk ribbons, and a fresh red carpet covered the stairs.
Slumberland's orchestra echoed through the halls, a gentle hum of elegance guiding every guest into the grand ballroom.
By day, it was where Father would sit, the room too gigantic for just a few chairs.
But tonight, the place was a different world.
Ball gowns and suits crowded the floor with a long red carpet up to not two but three thrones, the newest addition ready for Nemo to claim. I sat beside it with an empty feeling, busying myself by gawking at all the glamour of crystal ornaments and flowers filling the walls around the tall windows. The floor was pristine, reflecting every glare of lantern and chandelier to make it appear water instead of marble.
Balconies that curved over the room were draped with more floral garlands and shimmering gems, adding the imagination of falling flowers and rainbow rain.
There was an urgency to dance, and many guests waited for the coronation to begin so the after-party could commence.
My eyes fell from the drapes to the audience, searching for Vince or Bonbon in the crowd. They probably wouldn't be in the mix. Vince and his men were nowhere to be seen, which made me wonder if the Royal Guard was to play a part in tonight's entertainment just like with Nemo's arrival days ago. Only the castle guards were curled around the room, still and platonic as the columns next to them.
Bonbon would be dying to be out there in the scene, dressed up to the walls in fine silks and velvet to appear more grand than any royal. I hope she wasn't stuck in some kitchen or with a task to miss the party. She would be of only entertainment for me tonight, either to have us chat the night away or to watch her easily swoon every gentleman on the floor with her magical charm as I take notes.
With boredom, I leaned back in my chair and yawned.
"Did I just hear you yawn?" Father warned. I could feel his eyes roll into the back of his head to glare at me from behind his throne. Masses of his white hair almost draped over his shoulder when he turned slightly.
I shook my head sleepily and slipped my hand aside before I used it to hide another yawn.
"No, of course not," I lied, almost doing it again. My eyes moistened, practically bored to tears, and I rubbed them away before Father decided to turn around. He was very fidgety, his large fingers tapping at the arms of his throne endlessly; not even the orchestra could hide the loud tapping of his impatience. Professor Genius was just as jittery, the tall man pacing back and forth near the doors, his hands busy messing over his mustache or rubbing up and down his vest.
And then I felt it. Or, more like, shivered from a sudden draft, a strange stir in the air, or maybe someone left a window open. But Father rose, almost too abruptly to be excited, more out of something startling him. He stood there, rigid, and his hands curled tight around the scepter.
I sat up and wished to see his face, for his back was to me, so I could only watch the long fall of his royal mantel to the floor.
"Father?"
But he didn't respond; the man was a complete statue.
I stood and tiptoed lightly to be at his side, craning my head around his giant form to catch the look on his face.
"Father, you seem uptight suddenly," I shared and looked up to scan him.
The muscles along his jawline tightened, and much of his beard hid the hard line on his lips. But most of all, his eyes sharpened as though guarded.
Firm in his hands, the scepter flickered until a dark shadow emerged, and he looked down at it for a long time.
"Odd," he breathed, and his fists only tightened.
"What's odd?" I urged, hating not knowing what stirred him.
Father was stuck in his thoughts, his eyes lost on the scepter, reading the swirling shadows within like a code he understood. I thought he didn't hear me, but eventually, he blinked and shook his head to dismiss his thoughts.
"I sense something amiss, but I don't know what," he shared sternly. He scanned the crowd as though searching for an unexpected guest. I searched with him, not knowing exactly what or who to look for.
"Don't trouble yourself, child. It's nothing to worry about," he insisted, holding my shoulder and smiling brightly at me. If possible, he glowed even brighter when he gazed at my dress and smiled more like he was proud.
"You look marvelous," he sighed, easily distracted. But I wasn't, itching to return to our previous matter instead of talking about my bubblegum pink dress.
"Forget my dress. What of the scepter?" I asked desperately.
Father considered it before setting it back on a stand beside his seat.
"I can't say. I've never seen it like this during such a joyous time," he wondered aloud. He rubbed his beard, furrowing his brows hard at the unsettling darkness bubbling inside the scepter's orb; a warning, no doubt.
"Should we be worried," I gasped, already rubbing my chest.
Father shook his head.
"I see nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, Vince has his men outside the palace, keeping close watch while he scouts on the inside. He won't let anything happen," he declared confidently. There was so much pressure on the guard, even if Vince was unstoppable. He must have eyes on us now, which urged me to search for him, but I still desired to pry Father open for more information. Suddenly, the blasted orchestra changed its jingle, shifting to the Royal March, and the feel of the room changed. The chatter of hundreds of guests died down, and then the air stilled. Whatever troubled father, it evaporated, leaving him standing tall with his glowing eyes on the doors, awaiting the new addition to his family. His golden armor gleamed under the chandelier, making him appear like a God instead of a man recently spooked. He cleared his throat and had his hands settle at his sides, more relaxed. Whatever he felt, it no longer existed.
But Father's intuition and Nemo's formal arrival left me restless. I took deep breaths, my eyes frozen at the curtains surrounding the doors. All eyes darted down the long carpet to the empty space where he would turn up, adding to the suspense.
I could've sworn I heard a clock tower ringing somewhere, or maybe my mental clock was gonging in my brain, its bell matching Nemo's step when his boots emerged.
One polished white leather boot with gold buckles stepped forth, and like a magic act, Nemo appeared from the great red curtains. My heart kicked, watching him steadily as he held his head high, his eyes closed, and smiling while all dressed in white. His military jacket was flawless, crisp, and held by gold buttons. Golden pauldrons were sculpted to look like feathers draped over his shoulders, making him appear broader and angelic. White trousers elongated his legs, and gold chains draped over his thighs. With every step, everything gold of him shimmered, and every accessory jingled like little bells, a one-person parade of grandeur.
Another gong of my internal clock and Nemo began to approach slowly, his royal mantel held to keep it from getting dirty. Bonbon followed to hold the tail end of its grand length. For performing such a humdrum task, she was poised, if not more elegant. She dressed well for the grand occasion, a blossoming crystal blue ball gown with no sleeves. She draped herself with a shimmering white scarf to make it seem like a trail of stars danced around her shoulders. With her eyes closed and head held high, she followed gracefully in sparkling high heels.
All eyes followed Nemo with precision, mouths opening and sighing, many startled over his appearance. Halfway through his slow entry, Nemo opened his eyes to his target: his throne. It was reserved only for him, the mighty seat where he would sit for the rest of his life.
I didn't expect him to smile, but he did, and it widened as he neared.
This boy came into this world in his pajamas—the boy who showcased himself in the city parade and invited everyone to his coronation.
The boy who created drama at one of the clubs. He kissed another boy. He threw grand parties with bootleg liquor, winked at girls, and flashed his famous wealthy smiles at any lady. He was the whole talk of the kingdom, creating a wild stir of curiosity and excitement to lure in all corners of the land to this one grand occasion. Finally, someone from Middle Land they could rely on. I won't deny that I've already heard the comparisons between Nemo and Vince in the gossip. Of course, everyone was in Nemo's favor. He was to be their new savior against the Nightmare, King Morpheus's chosen guardian angel.
I got that from looking at their faces: grand hope and worship for a boy.
Nemo's dark eyes snatched mine, and I stiffened, holding my breath. My hands wanted to rub together, but I forced them to stay at my sides, palms sweating. I held his gaze for an uncomfortably long time, and in return, he smiled nice and wide like he was ready for his portrait. Unable to keep his gaze for much longer, I looked away, sighing and wishing to find Vince in the crowd, but again, I couldn't spot him.
Nemo took to the steps, and Bonbon released his mantle so it could fall mightily like open wings. Its length was for show, but it must've been eye-catching to see all that red velvet and fur drag across the stairs, a symbol of royalty.
Father came forward, shaking the world with his mighty steps. The music stopped, and everyone held their breaths.
"Citizens of Slumberland!" Father roared proudly, his arms spread out wide. His incredible voice echoed across the room, clinging to the walls and the glass ceiling with ease.
"Please welcome your new savior of Slumberland and my chosen heir..." He threw his arm to his appointed guest. "...Nemo!"
Applause erupted, mixed with cheers and whistles. It continued for almost half a minute before Father raised his hand, and the noise died.
"As my heir, it will be Prince Nemo's solemn duty to protect Slumberland from the Nightmare King, as I have done!" He went for the scepter on his seat and showcased it above his head for all to see.
"Behold, the power of the Royal Scepter shall be passed on to the Prince!"
The audience buzzed with murmurs and whispers. Nemo's jaw dropped silently.
I could already feel the suspense in the room. The King of dreams was passing on his mighty weapon to a novice.
In the brief moment of suspense, I stared longingly at that scepter, and I was transported back to that day when Father told me I was going to have it.
With this, you won't need to fight. As long as you have this Scepter, the Nightmare King won't interfere.
My eyes burned. I still remembered the herd of elephants in the flower field that day, how I peered at the mother and child drinking from a pool, how the wind flung the weeping willows into the sky like a show of dancing skirts, and how rainbow waves from tulips were shifting and glimmering under the perfect sun.
When you become Queen of Slumberland, you will hold the Scepter.
Nemo was in the very place where I should've been, given the scepter that should've been mine. It was my wish not to be queen, but now that I was in the front-row seat of my royal title being given to another, there was a twinge of pain from somewhere deep in my chest. It was the start of a storm I didn't know I carried, and it was brewing fast, almost suffocating.
Be careful what you wish for…
Father broke my depressing thoughts with a shout of warning.
"Stand back!"
Nemo and I obeyed diligently, taking four or five steps back to give Father room. Everyone gasped, whispering sharply for a moment, but then the room faded into silence as soon as Father spoke the first words to power his weapon.
"Bazama...Pajama..." he started, muttering quietly. Gently at first, the scepter came to life, glowing in a white light. His hands began to shake.
In disbelief, my eyes grew at what Father planned to do: a demonstration. Was it proper to flex a weapon for a show when it was meant to fight the Nightmare?
He continued his long list of odd words, sounding more rubbish than a proper spell.
"Pajama gazama..."
The chandeliers flickered until the bulbs dimmed, the room darkening with nothing but a few candles along the tables. Professor Genius scrambled up the steps and squirmed in his tuxedo.
"Your majesty, would this be wise?!" he shrieked, raising his long arms.
But Father ignored him, muttering more magic words under his breath.
I hugged myself, barely remembering when he unleashed such power before I fell unconscious. I remembered a massive white light breaking the dark sky and a mighty boom crashing through my dreams.
Soon, my heels detected a gentle quake. Cups and glasses trembled in fear.
The scepter generated more power, its light expanding into a beam. Father's face glowed, all of his anterior white like he was holding the beginnings of Heaven in his hands.
"Kimera kazam….Kimera kazam…"
"Or maybe do this outside?!" The Professor tried again, to no avail. He screeched and ran far away before the first gusts of power spilled at his feet. My loose hair whipped, and then the wind spread, stirring dresses and tossing hair back. The candles went out, hundreds of flames gone in one long sweep of the scepter's strength when it flurried across the room like a wave.
The ballroom darkened.
I looked up, and for a moment, I could see nothing but stars, a brilliant display through the glass ceiling. Golden gears cranked, and the high dome opened, spilling cool air into the ballroom. There was nothing but a pure night sky, the stars so bright that the coronation could've easily been a slumber party. Inviting everyone in their pajamas and grasping their pillows while sleeping under the dazzling night sky would be delightful.
The blast came as quickly as an arrow but mightier than a shooting star, a large beam of light booming toward the stars. It carried immense strength, the ballroom white for a few breaths as though the moon had fallen on us. I squinted to such light as I tried to follow it. As I did, I saw a lonesome figure on a balcony high above. Without the scepter firing such light, I wouldn't have noticed, but I was suddenly locking eyes with Vince.
I felt it before grasping that he was watching me, his eyes as hard as black diamonds even when they met mine. My body was locked in a frozen state, unable to breathe until I thought of it, and I did so with struggle. Before the scepter's light faded, Vince turned away and disappeared behind a dark blue curtain of many around the ballroom, missing the chance to witness the massive explosion of power in the sky.
The sky was white, with golden ripples spreading widely before falling back to land as glittering snow. Father unleashed tremendous power to create the most magnificent fireworks. All faces looked up, astonished and glowing white like a sea of polished skulls. Sparkles dissolved, and the chandeliers' lights returned, almost blinding me. I winced slightly before I was jolted awake.
Father stepped to Nemo and ordered him to kneel, which the boy did silently. The scepter tapped his shoulder.
"Do you swear to protect this kingdom from all that is evil and Nightmare?" He boomed, his voice heard for all to hear.
"I swear," Nemo breathed.
"Do you swear to maintain the preservation of Slumberland's purity?"
"I swear!"
"Do you swear to help the people in Middle Land by giving them good dreams?"
"I swear!"
The intensity built with each promise in the royal oath, Father almost shouting near the end.
"Do you swear to step up as King when the time comes?"
"I swear it," Nemo promised.
Father showed his mighty hand, and Nemo kissed it. The scepter tapped his other shoulder, and Father said the magic words.
"I hereby crown you, Prince Nemo..." He grabbed a crown smaller than his from his throne and gently placed it on Nemo's head. "...Royal eminence of all Slumberland."
Everyone held their breaths when Nemo rose. His crown was a dazzling accessory contrasting with his dark hair. It appeared as a halo around his head, glowing with too many promises.
Cheers and claps broke out. Confetti and poppers cracked across the air, rainbow ribbons dancing overhead. Father waved his hand over the crowd. "Let's start the celebration!"
Festive music played. Servants brought out all the platters of food, wine, and liquor. Champagne bottles popped open, and the dancing started.
I wasn't interested in the festivities, so I sat in my chair with pretend importance like I had to sit. Given my seat placed atop the stairs, I had the pleasure of watching the fun happening below without me.
Father was smiling and laughing, dancing like a free spirit beside a giggling Professor Genius. Will it be the last time I see him that happy? I tried to watch him closely, to remember every wrinkle on his smiling face and the glow of his eyes, how his long beard bounced to his high kicks and twirled around his belly after a spin. His twin danced under his feet, the floor reflecting his glimmering armor as though he were in two worlds simultaneously. I never wanted to forget how light he looked there, as if he was no longer heavy with the burdens of being a king. Father was like any other jolly spirit tonight, a thrilled man with the body of a child dancing the night away. I couldn't remember when I last saw him that happy. My eyes burned at seeing him, and all my resentment started melting away, realizing nothing was worth my Father's beautiful smile.
Nothing.
I didn't want to admit it, but all I've been through lately was worth this moment, and I silently forgave him unexpectedly. Even if it wasn't me helping him dance and cheer like a child, it didn't matter anymore.
Slumberland seemed to be uplifted of its gloom for a fragment of time, their king's mellow mood blossoming into a vibrant sun. To the lucky dreamers, all their dreams swelled with pleasures and sweet things. Not a stir of shadow nor dark claw to be hinted across the land. Privately, I smiled just a little at my Father.
Did I dare find Nemo in the crowd?
He was easy to spot, a young man all in white to contrast the wave of black tuxedos and dark ballgowns. His golden crown glimmered under the lights, blurring in an ocean made of silks, velvet, and ribbons. He appeared to be in a merry mood, dancing with Bonbon across the floor, with one hand holding her shoulder while his other gripped a drink that was just as delicate. Bonbon mirrored him, laughing as they attempted to dance and drink their champagne at once. They were already tipsy and giggly, their faces close to exchange whispers of delight and sparks in their eyes. One glass down, they quickly reached for another and started chugging with hunger, craving the buzz.
Nemo and Bonbon. I never would've guessed.
I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, watching more couples dancing to the cheerful orchestra until I longed to dance with somebody I admired. Of course, my mind only wandered to one particular person. I was stuck daydreaming, or more likely, trying not to fall asleep, but my chin was close to tilting off my propped hand as I tried to look composed. I may have dozed off.
"You look just as bored as I do," I heard, and I sprang up in my seat like I had just drank a cup of Bonbon's legendary cappuccinos.
Quickly, I turned my head to find Vince standing beside me, looking out at the crowd with a lack of interest.
"What, you don't like to dance? Oh no…" I dragged sarcastically, pretending to be shocked that Vince was without a lady on his arm. He smirked, looking down at his silver sabatons.
"I'm surprised you aren't," he mentioned.
I shrugged and watched the crowd with him.
"Yeah, well, my so-called Prince has already found his Princess," I joked. We both flashed our eyes to the sea of bodies, quickly finding Nemo showing another of his odd dance moves while Bonbon laughed at him.
"You sound so hurt," Vince muttered, extending the joke.
I closed my eyes and threw out an exaggerated frown. "I'm so deeply heartbroken," I joked dryly.
We shared a look as I tried not to laugh, and Vince tried not to smile, but his eyes did the smiling. My stomach-wrenching butterflies started, and as time passed, I looked away before he did, the silence extending further than expected. I took a deep breath as I tried to come up with something to say. Should it be about last night on that rooftop? Should I imply that he could ask me to dance? My heart was thumping in my throat as the silence grew.
"Your dress looks very….pink…" Vince said that last word extra sharp, an insult not to me per se but to my wardrobe. He knew of the clothes I had to wear, and he also knew I hated them all.
"Very fudging pink," I tried, my cheeks going hot as soon as I attempted to curse.
Vince smiled, and there was an instant spot of radiance so brief that my mouth was still open when he frowned again.
"It's not fudging or fudge, and you know it," he pointed out.
"Oh, all right. I just can't say it," I admitted, fumbling with my pink fur cape to get fresh air around my shoulders. Vince fully turned to me, leaning a hand on the golden details of my throne, and said, "Just like this: Your. Dress. Is. Very. Fucking. Pink." There. Now you try."
"Don't you have some corner to stand in and watch for some nightmarish oddities?" I sighed.
"You're an oddity," he threw at me.
You're a…." Unable to come up with a better insult, I became crimson.
Vince smirked before his watchful eyes returned to the crowd, and then he asked, "How are you doing after that night?"
I wasn't expecting that. I eyed him curiously while fighting to fan myself, for I was growing hot in my dress. Instead, I pushed my cape off my shoulders, but the static air of excitement was too warm to soothe my heightened pulse.
After clearing my throat, I decided to be honest.
"Confused more than anything. I wonder what would've happened if I hadn't run away or what you meant when you said I could blame you if they asked."
Vince didn't respond far longer than I expected. I snuck a look, noticing how his metal fingers squeezed my throne. Finally, he turned his head away, hiding his face, and cleared his throat.
"I meant about the blood bath at the club," he muttered.
I wanted to fall over my seat and land face-first on the floor, humiliated for assuming he was asking about the night on the rooftop; that night was much more on my mind than the more traumatic one.
I must've been more screwed up than I imagined to be prioritizing my thoughts on the previous night over the horrid nightmare in the city. Any other Slumberland soul would've been mortified to the point of turning into a nightmare themselves.
I pictured Bonbon curled under the covers, holding onto me tightly as she shivered from the traumatic aftereffects.
"I'm worried about Bonbon," I shared, and I watched her as though she was a massive part of my world. Seeing her smiling already after such a terrible experience stung my eyes.
Vince was watching, too. "Hmm, I think she will be fine," he finalized. It was silent after that, just us soaking in each other's presence while watching a world that didn't seem fitting to us. The celebration was only a few steps at my feet, yet I was far from it, more content where I sat. Father continued to dance, his face already red from champagne. He managed to fall into the arms of Lady Elena, and they spun around while soaking the air with their laughter.
A minute passed, and then—"I better get back to standing around and doing nothing," Vince sighed, whipping his cape and turning his back on the celebration.
My contentment instantly cracked.
"You want to sneak out and sword fight again?" I humored.
Vince paused, and I knew he had a flash of a tiny smile. "I can't. I'm stuck in charge as the bloody Marshall. King Morpheus ordered me not to get distracted tonight. I have men creeping all around the perimeter."
I leaned over my armrest to speak more clearly to him.
"Something amiss?" I poked, sensing something had been off all day.
Vince didn't move.
"What makes you say that?"
"I'm not an idiot."
"I wasn't saying that you were..." He sighed and rubbed his forehead with the metal fingers of his gauntlet.
"What's going on, Vince? I heard more Nightmares are happening in the Middle Land recently. Father sensed something was wrong but wouldn't tell me. What is it?" I demanded.
Vince returned to my side and really looked at me as he wrinkled his forehead.
"I can't explain it. It's like I can sense the Nightmare, but it knows that and is hiding itself. It's in plain sight, no doubt, but I can't fucking find it," he whispered.
I straightened. "How do you sense it? What does it feel like?"
Vince crossed his arms and looked down again, ashamed of what he was about to say next.
"Because I'm tainted with Nightmare, I theorized that's why I can sense it so well."
"No wonder you're perfect for scouting such horrid creatures crossing our lands. Your tainted curse gave us a blessing," I hinted, helping Vince become more comfortable with what he was. But he shook his head.
"But I've never encountered it like this before. It's never been able to hide before," he shared. As though reminding himself to stay alert, he looked back to the heavy crowd of fun.
"How do you know it's hiding and just, well, NOT here," I asked.
"You said it yourself; you sense something is off, too," he reminded. I searched the crowd with him, hoping to find the apparent misplacement, but there was none. And then I stared at the scepter sitting unattended in Father's chair. Its orb swelled with dark blotches of black and red.
"The scepter is troubled," I reported. Vince saw it, too, and he frowned deeply.
"I know…"
The distasteful colors were hypnotizing, a strange combination to spot in a place like Slumberland; I couldn't look away as Vince laid his eyes on me carefully.
He stayed quiet, but the heaviness of his stare became too much, and I finally looked up at him, almost taken aback by how rigid he was. He didn't even look away when I met his heavy gaze.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" I asked. I rubbed my fingers across my cheeks, just in case. Vince suppressed a smile as he shook his head. "No."
"Then what is it?"
He finally broke his gaze by turning his head away and clearing his throat. "Nothing. You're distracting me."
"Only the good kind," I reminded him. That caught him off guard because he opened his mouth, and a mix of a scoff and a laugh escaped.
"The worse kind," he corrected, standing taller and more poised as a knight in charge.
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him he was distracting me by standing too close to my throne, when a familiar, silky voice slithered into our little world.
"Does the lady care to have a dance?"
I saw a strong, pale hand with strangely long nails appear in my vision. When I steered my vision upward to follow the owner of that hand, my eyes grew wide at those large, golden sun eyes.
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