157: Esmeray, Come To Me!

Esmeray, Come To Me!

"Orian, it's Damien," the voice from the other side of the door said. "Are you up?"2

Her body sat upright in bed, her hand hurrying to check whether her headwrap was in place. "I'm awake! I'm awake! Do you need anything—"

"No. Just go downstairs and have a meal first. We are done eating but you didn't join us so Neil thought you probably fell asleep."

Oriana had a hearty meal before heading to Arlan's room, exchanging shifts with the other two attendants.

The prince was clad in his night robes, and she saw him putting away the stack of paper from the table. Out of habit, she moved towards the nightstand, intending to put out the flames from the lamps when Arlan stopped her.

"I am working and I need no disturbances."

As if to prove his point, he took out a new stack of papers.

'Is it the time for work? That means he won't sleep and I won't either.' She felt like screaming her heart out in frustration. 'Sleep. All I want is decent sleep. Not half-hour naps, nor me nodding off on the side.

'I already took a step back and adjusted my mentality to accept sleeping on a chair, and now you're saying you won't even let me sleep tonight? Do I have to burn the midnight oil along with you? I will go crazy at this rate and might end up killing you.'

Just then, Arlan looked at her with a serious gaze.

"Retire for now. I will summon you when I need you."

Oriana was surprised but she obeyed him and went back to her room.

'What is he reading? He looked serious. Is it something related to what that giant knight told him before the morning ceremony? He looked serious at that time as well. Nevermind, it's good for me. I can at least lie on my bed instead of standing in his room to attend to him.'

She went straight to her bed, her heaven at the moment. She happily buried herself in the warm blanket, hugging one of the pillows as a bolster.

"Till that brat calls for me, I will just lay in my bed." She was visibly purring in contentment. "Bed at last! This pillow is so soft and fluffy…"

The prince working next door heard her words and smiled lightly. 'Isn't that why I sent you back to your room? Be gracious that your master is kind.' He leaned back in his chair. 'Though, she keeps calling me a brat again and again. I shall show her how bratty I can be for real.'

He continued to read the proposals and counter-proposals meant for the alliance summit on the table, revising a number of clauses which he found loopholes in. As the head of the delegation, he had to review the issues that would be possibly raised during the continent-wide conference.

An hour passed by and there was no sound from the room next door.

'Seems like she fell asleep.'

Arlan finally put down the pen and parchment in his hands and stood up to leisurely stretch. He went towards the window to relax himself with the view of the starry sky. For a moment, he wondered if he should have Neil bring him a fresh pot of tea as sleep didn't seem to be an option for him tonight.

Just as he had that thought, his ears caught something, making his brows furrowed and his form instantly disappeared from the room.

—--

While waiting to be called by the prince, Oriana didn't realize she fell asleep.

Exhaustion took over her and her body gave into it. Not having any intentions of sleeping in the first place, she didn't get her talisman knife under her pillow. As she was not permitted to carry any weapon on her as a royal servant, she would generally hide it in her luggage.

The consequence was obvious. Without protection, once she fell into deep slumber, she found herself surrounded by suffocating darkness.

Oriana started to grow restless in her sleep. Inside her dream, not a tinge of light could be seen. An unparalleled terror occupied her soul, as if it was being sucked in the depths of hell.

A familiar deep yet hollow voice began calling out for her, and this time, there was a sense of urgency in that voice.

'Esmeray…

'Come back to us…

'You have to come to me…you belong to me…'

In reflex, Oriana covered her ears with her both hands. Her expression was twisted in fear, her shivering body curled into a ball.

'Come back to our world, Esmeray…Our people are waiting for you…I am waiting for you…'

It was as if her soul was shackled by the darkness, and if she did not resist, it would drag her down to the depths of that frightening darkness. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she was powerless.

Tears rolled down her eyes, but she could not even cry out or scream for help.

Not a nightmare, but reality—that was what her intuition was telling her.

And if the voice successfully dragged her down…

'You have to avenge our people…to rule us once more…I need you…

'Come back…Esmeray…'

It ought to be impossible, but a black shadow darker than the eternal darkness surrounding her leaped into her vision, its size impossibly large. It was as if the essence of darkness materialized into a giant.

Its figure loomed menacingly behind what ought to be ghostly curtains that stretched and twisted around the darkness, making her unable to see the shadow's face. Towering over her, eclipsing everything around her, the mere sight of it instilled a primal fear into her soul.

'Esmeray,' the voice, eerie and sinister, echoed through her very existence, 'do not run away this time…Do not worry, I will take you with me… Come…Come with me…'

Leave me alone! No! Don't. No, no, no— these words of despair echoed in her heart, but not a single word could make out of her throat, making her unable to speak.

Oriana was trapped. Her body, her soul, even her thoughts, none of them were in her control. She didn't want to go. She wanted to beg to be released, but not a single word escaped her lips.

Only a suppressed cry left her mouth, one so soft that she herself wasn't able to hear her plea.

But there was someone nearby whose senses were inhumanly sharp, heightened when it came to Oriana's matters. Even if she hid a yawn, he would notice it, what more a frightened sob.

A tall figure appeared in her room the very next second, kneeling at her bedside at the sight of her pale face. He grabbed her hand, its knuckles strained and white from the intensity of her grip.

"Orian?"

"Orian."

Arlan's displeased and worried voice echoed as as he pried those fingers open.

"Oriana, wake up!"

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