Father appeared as a shadow looming over me.
"Camille…" he sighed, the painful truth in his stone blue eyes. "I'm very disappointed in you."
I've never felt so tiny before. I shivered as though his shadow dropped the temperature in that one spot over me, casting me away on a tiny dark island in the middle of our gleaming ballroom. I clasped my shaky hands, practically begging him for forgiveness.
"I'm sorry. I didn't, I mean, I didn't know I would cause trouble…" I gasped, afraid to look him in the eye.
Father turned away, giving me a view of his long, royal cape, acting as King instead of a parent when he decided to shun me.
"We shall see what the Trine Council has to say," he mumbled, and left it at that.
He began to disappear between tall, double doors.
I paled, reaching for him.
"Father, wait! Please, hear me out!"
The doors closed.
The light seemed to have followed him because the chandelier dimmed to nothing. The sun soon went along with them, vanishing. All the light faded, leaving me to gasp in the dark void.
I was alone.
"Please," I breathed, my heart thumping hard. I began to rub at my chest when its vibrations were too much, and then I got dizzy. I bowed my head, eyes burning. At any moment, something was going to reach out and claw at me. Red eyes will appear, glaring, and jaws open with hisses, ready to take a chunk in my arm or leg, I just know it. I panicked, afraid to move but also afraid to stay in one spot, paralyzed with fear.
I could hear them, their long claws tapping against the marble, followed by hissing.
"Camille," she groaned.
Mother.
I ran towards her strained voice, seeing nothing nor feeling anything as I went. Marble turned into rough rock, and my slippers fell into puddles.
"Mother, I'm here," I called, searching for her in the dark. Were those goblins taking her away? I quickened my step, rushing through while reaching if I were to bump into something, and shouted, "Mother, where are you?"
She was calling for me to help her. I could hear it in her voice.
Flames grew, giving light, and then l I recognized the familiar wall torches from that previous dream. Soft, yellow light gave way to that familiar giant door, making me stop just a few feet from it before looking up with a lift of my head almost all the way back until I couldn't tilt it anymore.
The curved dragon symbol mocked me with its mystifying meaning, uncertain where it was from or what it meant. The mysterious door stood before me, a blockade to where I knew Mother was captive. Her voice came from behind that door, slipping under the tiniest of cracks. Her please merged with the dampened air, or crawling along the walls as though she was all around me, a ghost of my memories.
"Camille, please, set me free," she begged like a dying breeze. I gazed upon the door's locking mechanisms, spotting a keyhole in a thick padlock of iron. Even if I could find this door while awake, how could I even open it? It seemed out of context with the rest of Slumberland, a foreign place along the edge of this realm.
I shook my head.
"I don't know how," I whined.
"The key," Mother desired. I imagined her weak hands clinging to the door just on the other side, her head against it, hair wild, eyes red, and cheeks so white. Her long, bony fingers claw over the wood, growing splinters under her nails.
"Please," she dragged in a long wail, having enough of her prison.
"Mother, where? Where is the key?" I asked, walking up to press my hands against the sturdy wood. Was she really only just a few feet from me? Were her hands aligned with mine? What was it like on the other side? Dark, horrid, and cold?
I pressed my ear to it, whispering, "I miss you."
Her reply was loud banging. It was so distressing, I immediately pulled my ear away from it after my skull vibrated abruptly.
"Find the key! Find the key!" she boomed, suddenly not sounding like mother but a hungry beast with a faint woman's voice. It was so unheard of, I curled into myself, shrinking away from such a change of character.
Slowly, I stepped backward, wheezing as I did. All the while, mother, I think it was her, kept demanding, "Find the key! Find the key!" over and over like a broken record player.
The farther I drifted away from this stranger with mother's voice, the foggier my world became, until all that was left was a dark fog, sucking me in as I unintentionally stepped into it backward. Slithers of dark wisps coiled, clouding the door until it was no longer in sight, but I could still hear the booming. That mighty boom echoed in my ears, following the pace of my heart with aggression.
The banging followed.
I opened my eyes, startled to hear it still, and felt slightly disoriented upon waking up. It has been a rough first day back home; my immediate meeting with Father carved into the nightmare that I just endured. I feared he was banging at my door, or perhaps mother's vicious voice followed, banging still to let her out.
My eyes fluttered, slowly waking up more, but the banging continued until I processed it to be coming from the doors of my room.
"Camille, I'm coming in," muffled Bonbon's voice.
I rolled on my back, a perspired arm draped over my forehead, and squinted up to the familiar chandelier of stars above. They didn't twinkle, just frozen in place, which only heightened my anxiety when I noticed my heart never settled. Something felt off.
Doors creaked open as I pushed myself up, unaware of the time or day. I must've been asleep for a long time, more than a day. My body ached, arms and legs feeling too heavy just to be a few hours, my neck feeling tense with lungs so stiff, I inhaled deeply three times to help expand them. But my fluttering heart made it too much to take deep breaths, making my anxiety worst.
I blinked constantly, light gently falling inside my room until I decided to roll away from it and smashed my face into my pillow.
Bonbon's footsteps trod lightly as though she purposely didn't want to startle me when she opened more of the curtains abruptly. Her hands found my arm carefully, her fingers warm.
"Camille," she whispered, her voice soft.
I let her wipe the sweat that was stuck to my cheeks, and she sighed gently.
"How are you feeling?"
I curled tighter into myself, hands gripping the blanket tightly.
Father's cold eyes flashed, followed by red, glowing eyes. Red eyes everywhere.
I swallowed, fearful of the consequences that would follow from that dreadful encounter.
Before I knew it, I teared up, sobbing quietly, and tugged on Bonbon's long arm to use as a tissue for my eyes.
"Oh, hun," Bonbon breathed, crawling into bed and fitting in a mold against my back, her arms draped over mine.
"It's okay. You're alive; that's all that matters," she sighed, her eyes possibly closed with long eyelashes swooped over her cheeks. Her lips touched the back of my neck, my bun a mess in her eyes.
My body rattled as I sobbed quietly, uncertain of what to really say. Many dark feelings I haven't faced before crept up, unwilling to leave. Was this my third or fourth day back? I've lost track. Stuck in bed to sleep and cry, I grew frustrated when I wasn't feeling any better. Whenever I closed my eyes, I was haunted by images of ferocious goblin eyes, plunging me into a world of darkness with red fireflies everywhere. No matter how deep I was in Slumberland, I've become contaminated by Nightmare Land. I didn't belong here nor there. There was nowhere for me to go.
"How long have I been in and out of it?" I croaked. Bonbon's body sent me warmth, though I still felt a chill somewhere, a strange sensation stuck somewhere in me.
Bonbon sighed into my hair.
"Four days."
I rubbed at my eyes, getting rid of the crust along their corners.
Four days… I wonder what Father's been up to, working behind the scenes of my punishment.
I felt Bonbon take a deep breath, her chest pushing into my back, and then she sighed heavily in my hair, her breath warm as it draped my neck.
"Camille…"
Her tone gave warning of something unpleasant approaching.
I tensed.
"I wish I could tell you to take it easy and spend all day with me, but…" I could hear her lick her lips before pressing them together. Her arms tightened, and her warm cheek rested on my shoulder.
"I've come to help you get ready…"
Oh. My fingers gripped the comforter even tighter, nails trying to cut through the fabric.
"For Father?" I muttered, eyes burning.
Bonbon nodded her head, her cheek rubbing back and forth silently.
"I'm scared," I admitted. A large rock settled inside my chest, and my heart still hasn't relaxed. It was a butterfly slowly being crushed by that rock, its wings flapping wildly to wiggle itself free from under the weight.
"Don't be. He still loves you," she tried, her arms tightening. "I'm sure, whatever he has planned for you, it can't be…" she paused, biting her lip.
It can't be that bad.
I knew if Bonbon finished her sentence, it would sound shallow, a lie. Did she know something?
My butterfly weakened, the rock almost too much to fight it.
Flashes of red eyes brightening and bones being crushed haunted me. I shivered.
"Why am I getting nightmares, Bonbon? Shouldn't they go away? Doesn't Slumberland not allow such horrible things?" I whimpered.
Bonbon was quiet. I could feel the wetness rub across my shoulder, telling me her eyes were wet.
"I don't know," she cracked. "Why am I sad? Shouldn't I be happy here? I shouldn't be sad."
Behind the nightmarish images, a small pillar of light cut through, reminding me that it wasn't all that terrible.
Vince's voice snuck into my thoughts, ghostly and distant.
If something terrible were to happen to you…
I imagined his cold stare, his sword hand hidden under his cape.
It's something I don't want to live with.
His eyes softened, that pained look glowing in them.
My butterfly grew strength, flapping hard again, and the rock rolled slightly.
"How's Vince holding up?" I dared ask. He hasn't come to visit, or at least, I haven't noticed, though not surprised. He rarely enters the palace unless to speak to my father directly on rare occasions. Vince always preferred his fortress or my balcony.
Camille sucked in a shallow breath. Her silence worsened my nervousness.
"He's…" she exhaled, and slowly, her arms pulled back.
"He tried to visit, but…" I sat up and turned, finding her back to me when she sat on the bed's edge, slippers tapping the floor restlessly.
Bonbon told me how Vince got as close as the bedroom doors before he turned around with a hiss; his cape flapped from how sharply he twirled.
"Why won't you go in and see her? Do you not even care?!" Bonbon shrieked at his back.
Vince stopped, unwilling to turn and look at her. He sighed, dropping his gaze.
"I care."
That's all he said, and left Bonbon fuming. Her fists were out, cheeks puffed, and she stomped her high heel hard.
"You stupid jerk!" Her voice traveled down the corridor.
Vince had to have heard her, but she was ignored, and he left.
"I just don't get him," Bonbon said, shaking her head at me. Her mint green hair swayed from side to side, long and loose today.
"He's not Slumberland material. Maybe he should live in Nightmare Land instead, always acting like a goblin."
I tried to smile at her suggestive humor, but I frowned instead and curled my knees into my chest, my white gown chilled from the night sweats.
"He tried. That's all I care about," I muttered.
I'm alive because of him…
Bonbon scoffed as she rose, tall as a tower, and peered at me with hands on her hips.
"I wish I could find you a handsome prince, Camille. Then maybe you wouldn't be so hung up on this Middle Land dude."
"I'm not hung up on him."
"Uh huh." She didn't believe me and waltzed to my wardrobe to pull out an outfit.
"Come on. You gotta get down there. There's no time for breakfast now."
Her hands were busy fussing over each dress, aimlessly crawling over the shoulders back and forth.
I rubbed my forehead over my knees.
"Bonbon…." I licked my dry lips, suddenly feeling very thirsty. When was the last time I drank anything?
"Vince saved me. I'm alive because of him," I whispered to her back.
Bonbon's hands slowed down, stuck on a dress, but then, she didn't move. Only her fingers shook, long nails begging to claw through silk and lace. It seemed whatever fury she had for Vince suddenly dissolved, leaving her frozen with a shaken acceptance. Her chin trembled, lips opening to let out a struggling few words.
"I know…"
She bit her lip to close her mouth and nodded a few times silently, keeping her back to hide possible tears but not the heaviness in her voice.
"He…." She pulled out a dress and squeezed it in her arms.
"He cares about you so much." Each word fell at her feet like stones, rocking the room.
"Stupid jerk isn't scared of goblins, but he's scared of…. Oh, never mind."
Without turning around, she tossed a dress on the bed.
"Get ready."
I just sat there, not understanding what Bonbon meant when she fell into that strange, brief episode of temper. She kept herself busy, searching for numerous things in the wardrobe until she pulled out ribbons, gloves, anything, and threw them all on the bed without concern. I was left staring at her back, lost in thought. I couldn't stop thinking about numerous things at once.
About father, Vince, my mother. The nightmares.
I shouldn't be having nightmares.
Was something wrong with me?
—
I stood nervously behind the tall doors and looked at them as though I was about to be swallowed whole.
Bonbon gripped the back of my shoulders and whispered in my ear, "It's all right. Whatever happens, I'll be there when you need me, okay?"
I nodded along with a swallow. That stone was still there. My poor butterfly grew weak again, its wings barely taking effort. It was having difficulty breathing, the rock crushing it.
"Okay," I whimpered.
The guards opened the doors; the gold handles glinted under a small chandelier. I caught a flash of my sad reflection before it passed, and ungracefully, I stepped inside the antechamber.
Bonbon picked out a dress that she hoped made me look "innocent".
Honestly, the dropped soft sleeves were a nuisance, my bare shoulders cold. The corset didn't help with my anxiety; already too difficult to breathe, forcing my spine to straighten out and tense my stomach. With a heart-shaped bodice and long cream skirt, I felt like a doll when I approached father, dressed as what he expected from me.
I wasn't a knight, nor a goblin hunter.
No, he saw me as an innocent princess, one with a perfect soul. No nightmares, no anxieties. Just needing a tune up with proper discipline and teachers.
Disappointment filled father's eyes when he saw me, still bitter about my reckless behavior, no doubt. I tried to tell myself it was because he only cared. Right?
From his grand throne, he rose, and stomped the scepter on the floor next to him with a clank. It echoed across the room, causing the large chandelier's crystals to tremble.
I stopped before the red tapestry among the steps and curtsied.
"Father," I greeted, my loose hair falling over one shoulder.
King Morpheus took a good look at me, his thick eyebrows up. He wasn't the same man who saved me, the one who cracked the heavens with the mighty magic of his scepter.
But now I knew if he wanted to, he could.
Before he spoke, I ran my fingers through my long hair as I muttered, "I'm sorry for calling you a coward. I was wrong."
Very wrong.
Father's eye softened just enough.
"I'm just glad to have you back safely," he uttered, and he lifted his distressing eyes to the glass ceiling, watching soft white clouds passing us. A couple of air balloons drifted.
I shook, fighting the urge to crumble when I knew I should keep myself upright and collected. But the child in me begged, not feeling close to eighteen when I broke and ran up to father, eyes with tears.
To my surprise, he opened up his strong arms and swallowed me with them. I pressed my tears into his chest and suddenly sobbed.
"I'm so sorry, Father! I should've listened to you! You're not a coward, you're-"
"Shhhh, it's all right, Camille. We've got it all sorted out," he whispered. A large hand stroke down my hair, his warmth like basking in the sun.
I pulled away to look into his light blue eyes.
There was hope in them, a strange glimmer of possibilities, a way out for me. Has he already forgiven me? What was he planning? It was odd to see a smile of relief on his tired face, a plan already in the works.
"What's happened?"
That was the best question I could possibly ask him. Father straightened, his arms pulling back, and he took a large hand on my back to shove me towards the doors to the conference hall.
"That's for later. For now, I want you to relax for a few hours. So, Please, rest while I announce your recovery. And then, before dinner, come back when we all should be here," he requested.
We?
"You mean the Trine Council?" I croaked, throat still feeling dry.
Father smiled as though there was nothing to worry about. He seemed rather pleased with himself, the plans of my future already laid out while I was stuck in nightmares.
"Yes. I must gather the other two members to attend. And then I will send someone for you," he assured.
I stiffened, hands peeling away from his arms only to have my hands clasped tightly against my breasts. Father sensed my nervousness and patted my bare shoulder.
"Please don't fret anything. This will make your life easier. Trust me."
Trust me. For some reason, those two words echoed a distant warning, leaving a chill in the air as it traveled up the dome ceiling and through the glass. The Gods, whoever they are, will grasp those words. And in return, a slash of trouble, as though to mock us with our ways in Slumberland and Father's judgment.
Before I was to ask more about his certainty, he pulled me into another powerful hug, squeezing all the air out of me. For a minute, my worries dissolved, peeling back layers of my body until I turned into a child again. I was trapped in a forest of white hair and muscle, getting sucked in until I eventually let go, holding father one more time with a long, pleasing sigh. I should've made it last longer than that. Should've said more kind words to him. Promises to keep. My little girl self squeezed father's robust, authoritarian figure tighter, getting sucked in one last time.
….
Midday, I tried for a long bath to calm my nerves.
No Bonbon to saturate the clawfoot tub with soaps and perfumes, I just wanted clean, hot water. Wrapped in a pink towel with my hair down, I leaned over the tub to reach for a gold knob and twisted it with a whining sound.
At first, there was nothing. I lifted a brow, eying the spout spilling nothing. Where was the hot water?
I fiddled with the knob, twisting it back and forth while scoffing.
"Is it broken?" I gasped, both hands busy turning the hot or cold water on.
Still nothing.
I kneeled in the empty tub and squinted at the spout that was supposed to give me hot, clean water. And then, there it was, the sounds of the pipes working, the hissing and clonk sound of whatever pumps water into the palace. Magic? Pipes? Both?
"Finally," I sighed. All of my hair was twisted in a tight knot in my fists to ease some of my patience.
Black goo dribbled from the spout.
At first, I blinked, registering what I was seeing versus my mind. Was the stress giving me hallucinations? But there was no time to process what was happening, the black goo growing as it slopped on the tub and began to spread out sticky legs to stick to the walls. It hissed, spilling into the tub like black molasses with streaks of red light.
I screamed, one leg already out of the tub. One slimy string curled around my arm many times, halting my run. I gasped at the sudden halt, my scream traveling across my room without me as more sticky hands latched on my other arm and then my legs. Whatever disgusting filth gushed out of the spout, it smelt like blood and decay. And it was cold. Colder than anything I'd felt before. Whispers of screams followed the stench, filling the tub with its filth until it overflowed. I was pulled into the mess, the screams of pain and torture ramming in my ears while cold, sloppy slime squeezed around me until I could hardly breathe. My lungs were restrained, my arms and legs buried. Only my face tried to keep above the surface of the hard goo, but it squeezed and bubbled, suffocating me. The screams enhanced. The light in my room faded.
I shouted until the sludge rammed a hard branch-like arm across my mouth.
It was freezing.
I remember the cold and the feeling of hopelessness plaguing my insides with torture. Where were the screams coming from? They sounded to be all around my head.
One of my eyes was slapped with more slime. Only a little light left with what vision I had, but even then, my last eye was seeing the black arms crawling in like vines across my face, obstructing more of my outer world.
I screamed from my throat, a horrid muffled sound. No one could hear me.
One last vine covered my eye, and I saw only darkness.
I sat up with a jolt, kicking my legs until water splashed on the floor, and huffed and puffed life back into my poisoned soul frantically.
What the heck was all that?
I didn't move, only my hands gripping the tub's sides while my eyes flickered back and forth to scan my surroundings. My room. I was in my room. I was taking a bath.
Above the warm water, my chest jumped up and down with panic breaths, and my eyes were wet. I blinked to feel tears on my sticky cheeks and sniffed, rubbing them aside with pruny fingers.
It was only a bad dream.
I could hardly speak reassurance, gazing down at my shaky hands to see the wrinkles on my poor fingers.
I fell asleep in the bath.
I closed my eyes and leaned back into the water with a long, shaky sigh, my damp hair falling in with me until all under my chin submerged.
It was only a bad dream.
It took me a long time to calm down, splashing my face and rubbing my hair back as relief took over the anxiety.
I rammed my hands into my eyes until stars appeared. And just wept.
I may have left Nightmare Land in one piece, but I came back poisoned. It was still inside me, tainting my innocence with fear. I've never felt so alone than in that tub, realizing that what I was experiencing may be a unique occurrence. I was the outlier of Slumberland's normality. Maybe I've always been that way. But it's left me feeling even more isolated than I could imagine. I was marked with the Nightmares, and with no way of knowing how to banish them. It made me sick, my stomach twisting in knots. My chest tight. My hands numb. My eyes stung.
I curled into a tight ball, tub water splashing around me with gentle assurance that there were no dark, slimy vines. The silence of my room only heightened my dark thoughts.
….
I stood bleary-eyed and tired, not desiring to stand among the council of men to judge me with their distant eyes. Even if one of them was Father. I thought the room would be more spectacular, but I was greatly disappointed. It was just a large room with high walls and sculptures of baby angels standing atop pillars with their hands holding the ceiling. Their lifeless, white marbled eyes bore down on me with pity. Tall windows along the walls were completely covered by dark blue drapes made of silk, hiding the afternoon sun. The main light source spilled from a chandelier with crystal stars and crescent moons dangling, reminding me of the stars hanging over my bed.
I looked up at the wonder and, again, felt uncomfortable to notice none of the stars moved. They were hanging over me like frozen icicles.
There was only one table in the small room, large enough for only three members and the Professor to sit comfortably with extensive arm space. Made of clear quartz, the table represented a large crescent moon to replicate that of the Lake of Dreams. I could just barely make out Father's twitching feet through the smoky, clear glass-like effect.
I swallowed and gazed upon them. The ones who will be deciding my punishment for what I've done. Haven't I suffered enough?
The Trine Council.
I noticed professor Genius sitting next to Father with a squirming effect, his tall lavender top hat not hard to miss, and his spectacles hiding the wrinkles under his eyes. When the professor and I locked eyes, he turned his head away, wearing a thick mask of guilt. That was a terrible sign.
Two other men sat there, silently frowning. One was a gentleman with a white wig, and a cravat tucked into his fine blue velvet petticoat.
And the other one...
I tried not to stare too long, the other guest's appearance very contrasting to Slumberland's. He was tall and slim, a muscular young man with wavy locks of milk chocolate hair and skin just as milky as mine, hiding under a delicate half cape and silver chain. His ears dangled a few rubies that glimmered under the chandelier's lighting. There was something strange about him. It could be his piercing, golden eyes. When he turned them to me, he grinned and flashed his fangs in a charismatic manner.
But there was something else, too, something familiar. Under the split of his black cape, black ink laid on his perfect skin, the curling of a wingless dragon sitting on his chest. Its tail curved up towards his neck, its sharp spine almost touching the edge of his cheek.
A flash of the dragon symbol on the door stomped in my head.
It's the same symbol.
I gasped, eyes glued to that tattoo.
Father cleared his throat, pulling me away from gawking over our visitor. I shouldn't be looking at his chest.
Quickly, I straighten and stood before the three main heads.
I suddenly felt trapped, six hard pairs of eyes inspecting me. My hands clasped tight across my waist, taking small breaths with little room my corset allowed. It grew quiet. Professor cleared his throat too many times. The white wig one tapped his feathered pen on the table.
Finally, Father pushed his golden chair back and rose high in the center.
"Princess Camille," Father began, and his arms came out widely.
"I'd like you to meet the men of our Trine Council. These are representatives of the other two lands."
He smacked his massive hand over the shoulder of the one in a white wig. The man gasped, almost falling back by father's strength, and his wig flopped.
"This is Theodore W. Franklin, from Middle Land," Father introduced. Theodore fixed his wig with a fuss and cleared his throat. He wore clean white gloves and clasped his white fingers under his pointed chin.
"How do you do, sweet Princess Camille?" His voice was smooth and confident as he lightly bowed his head to me, his pointy nose touching the table.
Father then gestured to the strange man at the other end of the table.
"And representing Nightmare Land is the Nightmare King's eldest son, Prince Galof!"
I stared at him as he closed his eyes and bowed his head to me. On top of his dark head, there were two bald spots, a place where horns should be.
"Very nice to finally meet you, Princess Camille. I've heard so many things about you," he greeted, his voice low but also cheery for such a creature. He looked too human to be a goblin, but also, strangely, not human either.
Father sat back down, and the three men all looked at each other.
"Let's get this underway," Theodore began, and he fished out his spectacles to put over his nose, beady eyes scanning at open scrolls.
"We gather Camille today to present to her our decision after negative circumstances that occurred four days ago," he stated.
I began to feel hot in my white dress and wished to have a chair to sit in, but they wanted me to stand and be uncomfortable, one of the disadvantages of being challenged by the council.
Father lifted his droopy eyes to me.
"You disobeyed me, Camille. You not only neglected your duties to prepare your coronation, but you also put yourself in danger and risked Slumberland of another war."
"Father, I-"
"Be still!" Father demanded, a hand up. "You may have your turn after we all three speak."
He softened up a bit after he exchanged a look at Professor Genius, the elder's eyes begging him to go gentler.
Father looked away and cleared his throat.
"You've been asleep for four days, and in that time, there has been turmoil between Slumberland and Nightmare Land. I've lost my best captain to the royal fleet, a hundred and twenty men, and almost you with them. In defense, I had to act, and with the enemy on my land, I didn't hesitate to destroy them."
He stared at Prince Galof as he said that last bit and the demonic hybrid cleared his throat.
"Father and I certainly agreed to your actions, Morpheus. They were on your land," he chimed in, displaying a gentle smile that barely showed his bottom canines.
"And so..." father cleared his throat again and gave me a worried look. It came and went quickly, trying to put up a brave face, a face a proper king should make, not a father. There was a trace of guilt, and he rose again, fingers tapping the quarts lightly.
"Camille…"
He tried to look at me.
A cold sweat trickled down my back, feeling choked by my corset. My inner butterfly struggled under the boulder. Its wings stopped, but its legs still tried to pull free, squirming under the rock. Father's eyes darted at Theodore and then at Galof before falling back to me. The room intensified with a heavy feel, making me suddenly want to run.
"It has been our decision to cancel your coronation and find you a companion to lead Slumberland."
My butterfly's legs stilled, and the rock took away its last breath.
Instantly, my eyes watered, a hand to my chest, and another on my twisting stomach.
I tried not to gawk when I eyed Galof in his corner.
"What?! You mean I'm supposed to marry him!" I pointed at the dark Prince while Father told me to hold my tongue. I clenched my teeth tightly, hot white rage up to my cheeks as I made a fist at my side.
Prince Galof chuckled and touched his muscular chest with his long fingers.
"I'm flattered, but you...aren't my type," his husky voice perked. His eyes looked me up and down, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair with a smirk. Theodore cleared his throat and shook the image from his mind.
"We were actually thinking someone from Middle Land," he cleared.
From Middle Land?
I bit my lips together, my turn not coming soon enough with all the questions boiling in my head. Half the battle was not speaking out as they all discussed my future without me.
"What year is it there, Theodore?" Father asked his neighbor.
"I believe it's 1924 now," he answered and unrolled some parchment I couldn't get a view of because they had it propped up against a tilted board.
Father studied it while he scratched at his beard.
"I found someone in North America, a young lad perfect for you," Theodore stated, and he scribbled notes down.
"Professor, please take these coordinates to Captain Stephen when you go pick up the boy," he grumbled and handed Professor Genius a slip of paper.
"Wait!" I gasped.
"Not yet!" Father growled.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Clearly, you have already decided! Why do I say anything at all? Why should I even be here?!"
Father boiled under his robes, but Prince Galof raised a hand, his cheek leaning onto a curled fist with an elbow to the table with boredom.
"Yes, Morphy, let her speak," he sang.
"I told you not to call me that!" Father grumbled, then sat back in his chair with a loud slam. The room trembled. The stars above finally tinked into a quiet song.
He sighed, "Does everyone agree to let Camille speak?"
They all raised their hands, and Father gestured for me to go right ahead. I thought I was ready, but no words came out at that moment. I thought hard about what I should begin with.
"You would pick some stranger from Middle Land over me?" I challenged.
"After what you did recently, yes!" Father bellowed.
"You clearly aren't responsible enough to run Slumberland on your own, and therefore, we had to find you someone suitable to take charge when I'm gone!"
"But my coronation-"
Father rose out of his chair and shouted over my tiny voice, "You won't be having a coronation!" Then his voice dropped to a sharp whisper, "Not anymore."
"No scepter! No authority! You must be a good queen and do exactly as your future king and husband will order you!"
My future husband.
I let those words sink in until I thought I was in another nightmare. I looked around, half expecting the dark, slimy shadows to sneak in and cover the walls and turn everyone into dark demons. My breathing quickened while my eyes steamed, blurring the room.
"So, I've made a mistake, and now you are taking away my coronation?" I whispered with a crack. A few tears hit the marble.
"Morphy- I mean, Morpheus, may I?" Prince Galof chimed in. When he was allowed to speak, the prince clasped his hands together and eyed me gently.
"If my scouts were correct, your mistake created the catastrophe that one of my generals took advantage of. You were present on that raid, and out of his own accord against my father's wishes, he tried to take you for himself. Which, unfortunately, meant your father had to come in and put a stop to all of that mess."
He looked at father from the corner of his eye and smirked.
"Good thing your daddy came in to save you in time."
"And there's been so much argument about who stepped where in terms of boundaries among the two lands. Who started it, and what happened? It was terrible," he added, smiling at me sweetly like it was anything but terrible. He continued and used hand gestures smoothly as he spoke.
"We now know for sure that if you were ever put in charge as Queen, it would be an all-out war between your land and mine. You would be such a gruesome threat to our already tiny land that we have left, and we don't want that, you see? So, that's why we decided to make it an unbiased rule, someone from Middle Land who is neutral to both Nightmare Land and Slumberland. My father agreed if we were to find someone else as king of Slumberland, someone from Middle Land, he will not counterattack Morpheus's rescue."
With Father's powerful voice like an opera singer, Galof's tone was like a soft violin. He explained with patience, which may relieve father's tense shoulders when the situation was presented gentler than what he may have done.
I looked up at Father desperately and asked, "Is there no other way?"
Father dropped his eyes with his shoulders slouched beneath his white hair.
"I'm sorry, my daughter. But this is what we both want", and he eyed Prince Galof until they exchanged a look of understanding.
"Nightmare Land will not attack, and we may keep the peace as long as I find a new King from Middle Land."
"No!" I screamed, unable to contain myself.
"Isn't this what YOU wanted?!" Father challenged, a finger at me. I flinched away at the sharpness of his words and the jab of his finger, an invisible sword jabbed in my chest.
He had a point, but…
"But not like this," I wheezed, my lungs stiffening again.
"What does it matter?" Father boomed.
I clammed shut.
Prince Galof kept smiling, obviously entertained by the drama before him, which may have been a nice change from their past meetings. I could only imagine they were dull.
Theodor appeared uncomfortable with how he fiddled with his quill, eyes not looking up.
"Remember, Camille, I saved your life!" Father reminded me.
I froze, and the trace of a powerful Camille inside me dispersed. I was little Camille once more. A helpless child relaying on Father. I had nothing more to say. Father had said those magic words, which meant I had to respect him. He did save me, and I felt it would be better not to cast that as nothing. I sank my head down, ashamed, and finally admitted defeat.
I was in his debt.
An unsettling silence filled the air, and Father turned to the other two men at the table.
"Gentlemen, please let me have a word with my daughter. You too, Professor."
No one objected as the sounds of chairs screeched across the floor, pushed back, and footsteps maneuvered quickly until the doors opened and closed behind me.
"Camille," father trembled, and he sat in his chair. I looked up at him to see how lonely he appeared at that table. He watched his thick fingers bounce up and down, tapping lightly.
"I wanted you to know…." His fingers calmed, their rhythm slower. "I've been thinking about this for a while," he admitted deeply.
Anxiety wrapped around my heart like the dark sludge in my nightmares. It pounded hard to push the sludge back, but it wasn't strong enough. The sludge retaliated by tightening until I couldn't breathe. Father inhaled and glanced at the scattered parchment atop the table, anything to distract him.
"Of course, your actions brought to my attention the severity of the situation, and I brought the idea to this council. But for months, I've been pondering if you were really suitable for the throne," he said quietly. "So it wasn't the Nightmare King's idea. When the topic of your coronation came up, I threw down the proposal before any threats were to fire."
I was so furious I couldn't speak. My own father didn't even want me to take his place. All that talk days ago. The garden walk and my future responsibilities. It all felt like a lie.
My cheeks were soaked with tears, but I glared at him, refusing to break like a child. I was jumping in between, an adult one minute and a child the next.
How dare Father deny looking at me to see the damage he's causing? He'd rather look at the parchment or his busy fingers.
"I know you hate me for this, but please try to understand; you're my only child. You will be safe this way and not have to worry any longer," he reasoned. I twirled around, ready to leave silently.
"By the way," father's voice stretched, halting my step before I reached the doors. "Our future king is arranged to be here tomorrow. I do hope you will be on your..," he paused, and I pictured his white eyebrows scrunched.
"…Best behavior?"
I flashed my teeth at nothing and pulled the doors open violently without a word. I ran, determined to get away. Professor Genius was waiting, and he tried to stop me with his stuttering, "P-Princess, w-wait! I need to talk to you!" But I ignored him and left the ballroom. I needed to get away, to be anywhere but here.
"Where are you going?!" The professor exclaimed. He tried to keep up, his long legs giving him the advantage of long strides over my short sprints, but I knew all the shortcuts and took a sharp left between two large vases into a servants' corridor.
"Away from here!" I snapped and disappeared into the tunnel. It was a nice little corridor through the palace. I looked over my shoulder and was glad to get rid of the professor, and then continued on towards a stone door. I pushed it open and stumbled out into the courtyard, the bright day blinding when one stumbles out of a dark hall. Carefully, I settled the stone back in place against a pillar like it never budged, and I was about to run. Instead, I skidded to a halt when someone caught my eye.
I found the Nightmare King's son nursing a cigar while sitting along the steps of the palace entrance. He took note of me and perked up before he blew a ring of smoke up into the blue sky.
"Well, well, miss me already?" He joked. I watched him sit back, relaxed like he was waiting for something or maybe just taking a long cigar break. His long, black cape opened up more, revealing more of his large tattoo upon his strapping chest. Again, I analyzed it, and I knew that was the same dragon on the door in my dreams. It had to be.
"What is that on your chest?" I challenged, my eyes squinting at it.
"Oh, this?" He ducked his narrow chin to gaze upon his chest and abs with a smile, almost startled to see it like it wasn't there before.
"My six-pack," he teased and inhaled his cigar with a grin.
"No! I meant the tattoo, dummy!"
"I know…" he exhaled, more smoke falling off his tongue until I coughed, waving a hand to disperse the horrible stench.
Galof licked his lips. When he smiled, there were those fangs again.
"It's my family's sigil," he replied, pointing to the tattoo. His nails were long, black, and sharp.
"All the sons of the king are stamped with it. Of course, I'm the oldest, so I get the biggest tattoo. Not very flattering to you, but in my world, it's a symbol of masculinity."
He rose and stretched his bulky arms out, purposely showing it off now, his loose cape fluttering to the winds of a spring day. As though to heighten the experience, petals caught in the wind brushed over him like pink rain. There may as well be an orchestra playing and fireworks exploding behind him.
I rolled my eyes.
Galof was amused by my response, and he tapped the end of his cigar on a marble step to end its life.
"It pains me that you don't even know about my family, considering we are always at war. So, why curious now?"
I hesitated, not trusting this stranger yet to mention my dreams. Instead, I said, "I have to say, I'm quite surprised that you're from Nightmare Land. I thought there were only…" I swallowed, afraid to sound rash.
"Monsters and goblins?" He guessed for me.
"Well, yes," I said sheepishly.
Galof laughed almost mockingly, and my cheeks burned. He rose to his feet to stand tall. Suddenly, black wings unfurled behind him, stretching out, and he sighed with relief.
"Oh good grief, no, dear. That would just be too easy for your father, wouldn't it? You poor thing. Sheltered in the perfect palace for too long and thought your little goblin hunts opened your eyes enough?" He rolled his eyes with a sigh, thick arms crossed and legs long under black pants. Barefoot. How odd.
"We Nightmare Land folk have a lovely tier system. Yes, there are those dreadful bunch that behaves more like animals, and they belong where their tiny brains put themselves in, at the bottom. But we hybrids are just as capable as you are of running a kingdom. You should visit sometime," and his voice thickened into a monstrous growl when he added, "You'll love it." I could've sworn his yellow eyes glowed.
I watched as Galof's wings expanded all the way, a twelve-foot wing expansion of black bat-like wings with thick skin.
My mouth opened. "Ohhh," captivated by such a reveal.
Galof smirked at me and stretched out his hand.
"Want a ride?"
"Absolutely not!" I shrieked, recoiling.
This made him laugh up at the sky, hands on his hips.
"I thought so."
He flapped his wings, ready for take off.
"Well, I better tell Father the good news. Maybe we will see each other again very soon," Galof cheered. He was ready to step forward, his wings pounding down.
Unexpectedly, I reconsidered my decision, afraid I may never get the chance to speak to anyone from Nightmare Land ever again. At least not anyone as civil as Galof.
"Wait!"
Galof was about to take off, but he looked over his shoulder at me, and stopped himself with half a step. His wings settled, and his yellow eyes stunned. There was something attractive about his startled expression.
I ran up to him.
"Wait, I did have something I wanted to ask you, er, I mean….," I tried, struggling to have a clear head. It felt unsettling talking to someone from Nightmare Land.
Galof smiled as he crossed his arms. His wavy hair overlapped one eye.
"Wanted to give me a goodbye kiss?"
"No, of course not!" I spat, clenched fists at my sides.
Galof chuckled at my sour expression and tapped his bare foot as he waited.
I glanced from his eyes to his tattoo, struggling to speak while my knuckles rubbed my chest.
"Well, um, you see, it's about your-"
"Why do you do that?" He blurted.
I blinked at him.
"Do what?" I was clueless at his interruption.
Galof curled a hand and rubbed across his tattoo to mimic my behavior.
"This. You rub up and down like that. Why?"
I shot my hand down, cheeks red. No one has asked me that before. Did Vince even notice?
"Uh, I have anxiety," I admitted nervously, like it was some sort of disease in Slumberland. Everyone else just pretended not to notice. It was odd manners for someone to point it out, but perhaps that was just part of Galof's culture, pointing out the negative behaviors instead of pretending they aren't there.
After all, no one has anxiety in Slumberland.
Galof's eyes hardened.
"Do I make you anxious?"
"No, that's not it!" I don't know why I worried about his thoughts, and I simmered.
"That's not the point! Look, your tattoo!" And I pointed to it to help line his attention.
"I've seen a door with that symbol," I revealed. It took a significant load off my chest, and my heart stopped pounding.
Galof raised a dark, thick eyebrow.
"A door with my family crest? Here?" He couldn't help but smile as though this was some kind of joke.
I marched across the stone and glared up at his stupid grin.
"Yes. I'm not lying," I growled.
Galof shook his head, blinking at my quick temper with his hands up.
"I never said you were. I think you misread others sometimes."
"I read people just fine!" I blurted.
Galof smiled at me with his eyebrows up as though to say sarcastically, "Suuuure."
We were quiet after that, birds chirping in the background, the fountain splashing in the distance. Like Vince, Galof seemed improper, his tattoo so dark and contrasting against the soft pastel colors from the palace courtyard.
"So…" he leaned in, and his yellow eyes bore cautiously into mine.
"This door. Where have you seen this?"
I swallowed.
"I haven't actually seen it. I've dreamt it."
Galof ran a finger under his chin, but he didn't seem to be thinking too hard. Answers were already in his eyes when they flashed a spark of lightning.
"I see."
He stayed quiet after that, probably to give me frustration. Inpatient, I stomped my slipper down.
"Do you know anything or not?!"
Galof kept smiling, even when he turned his wings to me.
"I think you should ask King Morpheus," he replied seriously, his cheery side suddenly gone.
"But-"
He opened his wings again, and they flapped, his feet floating.
"See you soon," he sang, his serious side gone as quickly as it came, and he waved, his face hidden. He left me dumbstruck in the middle of the courtyard, watching him fly away.
Free as a bird.
The Prince of Nightmare Land flew up into the blue sky, heading West. His wings flapped mightily to give him altitude before he could glide. Eventually, he was nothing but a dark dot in the baby blue sky.
What did he mean by that? Ask Father? Would he actually know anything? I didn't even notice I was doing it again, rubbing my sternum with my knuckles, and I stopped myself, wondering if I looked ridiculous.
Of all the things that juggled in my mind, only one, in particular, stayed put as I watched the dark prince disappear over the city.
I wish I had a place to fly away to.
1