Chapter 2

I had no idea how long I had been here. Hours? A full day? The window showed only grey sky, unchanging, as though time itself had stalled in this kingdom.

A knock at the door startled me. I sat up, my heart hammering, as the lock clicked and the door swung open. A woman entered, her face lined with age, her hands clasped in front of her. She wore a simple grey dress, and a small leather satchel hung at her side.

"I am Mira," she said, her voice soft but firm. "The healer. Lord Valerius sent me to tend to you."

"I'm not injured," I said.

"He wishes to ensure you have no hidden hurts. May I?"

I hesitated, but there was no malice in her eyes. Only a quiet weariness, as though she had seen too much in this castle. I nodded.

She crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, taking my wrist gently. Her fingers were cool against my skin as she felt my pulse. She studied my face, my eyes, my hands. Her touch was methodical, professional.

"You have no fever," she said. "No wounds. Yet your mind seems troubled."

"I don't remember how I got here."

"So I was told." She paused. "Do you remember anything at all? Your home? Your family?"

I thought of my apartment. The small kitchen with the chipped tile. The stack of books on my nightstand. The photograph of my mother, gone three years now. But the images felt distant, like memories of a dream I was slowly losing.

"I remember a bridge," I said. "And water. A lot of water."

Mira's expression did not change. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a small pouch, from which she produced a dried leaf. "Chew this," she said. "It will help calm your nerves."

I took it reluctantly. The leaf was bitter, but I chewed, and a warmth spread through my chest. It did not calm me, but it sharpened my senses. The room seemed brighter, the sounds clearer.

"The prince," I said. "Kaelen. He found me."

"Yes." She packed her satchel. "He has spoken of you."

"What did he say?"

"Very little. He is a man of few words." She stood. "But he asked me to ensure you were comfortable. That is more than he does for most strangers."

A flicker of hope—then I crushed it. He did not know me. This was merely courtesy, or suspicion dressed as kindness.

"Rest," Mira said. "You will be summoned for the evening meal. The king wishes to see you."

She left, and the lock clicked again.

I sat in the silence, the dried leaf still working its effect. My thoughts were clearer now, but no less tangled. I replayed the moment on the bridge—the screech of tires, the weight of Kaelen's body as I pushed him, the shock of cold water. And then... nothing. A void where memory should have been.

How had I come to Aethoria? Was this a dream? A coma? Or something else entirely?

And why did Kaelen—the quiet boy from the lecture hall, the one who never spoke to anyone—exist here as a prince? The coincidence was impossible. And yet, here I was, locked in a tower, waiting for a king I had never met.

The hours passed. The grey sky darkened, and torches were lit in the corridor beyond my door. I heard footsteps, the murmur of conversation, the clatter of dishes from somewhere below. My stomach growled, but I ignored it.

Finally, the lock clicked again. A young man in servant's livery stood in the doorway. "The king requests your presence at dinner," he said. "Follow me."

I rose, smoothing my wrinkled clothes—the same clothes I had worn in my own world. Jeans, a simple blouse, now stained and damp. I must have looked like a vagabond. But the servant did not comment. He simply turned and led me through the labyrinth of corridors.

The castle was larger than I had imagined. We passed through halls lined with tapestries, past windows that looked out onto a darkening landscape. The air smelled of smoke and old stone. Servants bowed as we passed, their eyes flicking to me with curiosity.

We entered the great hall, and I stopped.

The table was long, stretching the length of the room. Candles flickered along its length, casting dancing shadows on the walls. At the far end sat a man I assumed was the king—older, with a crown of silver and gold, his face lined with years of rule. Beside him sat Kaelen, his expression unreadable. And at the king's right hand, Lord Valerius.

He smiled as I entered. That same smile that did not reach his eyes.

"Ah, our guest," the king said, his voice booming. "Come, sit. You must be hungry."

A servant pulled out a chair near the middle of the table, far from the king. I sat, acutely aware of the weight of their gazes. Plates of food were placed before me—roasted meat, bread, vegetables swimming in gravy. My stomach lurched with hunger, but I could not bring myself to eat.

"You have given us quite a mystery," the king said, leaning back. "A woman appearing on our hunting grounds, with no memory of how she arrived. My son tells me you spoke of a bridge and a river. Yet there is no such river for leagues."

"I can only tell you what I remember," I said.

"And what is that?"

I repeated my story, haltingly. The car, the push, the fall. The king listened, his fingers steepled. Kaelen stared at his plate. Lord Valerius watched me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

"Extraordinary," the king said when I finished. "And you say you knew my son? From your world?"

"Yes." I glanced at Kaelen. "He was... a student. Like me. We attended the same university."

"University?" The king frowned. "I am unfamiliar with the term."

"A place of learning," Lord Valerius interjected smoothly. "Perhaps in her land, they have different names for such institutions."

"Perhaps." The king's eyes narrowed. "And you say my son has no memory of this?"

"None," Kaelen said, his voice flat. "I do not know her."

Those words, spoken so plainly, cut deeper than I expected. I had watched him for months. I had dreamed of speaking to him. And now, he sat across from me, looking at me as though I were a stranger. Because I was.

"Fascinating," Lord Valerius murmured. "A woman who knows a man she has never met. Who claims to have saved his life in a world that does not exist." He smiled. "It sounds like the makings of a legend."

"Or a lie," Kaelen said.

I stiffened. "It is not a lie."

"Then explain how you came here," Kaelen said, his eyes meeting mine for the first time. "Explain how you fell into a river and woke up in a kingdom that does not exist on any map."

"I can't."

"Then you understand my skepticism."

The king raised a hand. "Enough. We will not solve this mystery tonight. Our guest is tired, and we have pressed her enough." He turned to me. "You will remain as our guest until we determine the truth of your story. You will have the run of the castle—within reason. Do not wander beyond the gates without an escort."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Lord Valerius rose, his chair scraping against the stone. "I will see that she is settled," he said. "If you will excuse us."

I did not want to go with him. But I had no choice.

He led me through the corridors, his steps measured, his hands clasped behind his back. The torches flickered, casting long shadows that seemed to reach for me.

"You must forgive the prince," he said. "He has endured much. Losses that have shaped him into the man you see."

"What losses?"

He glanced at me, a quick, assessing look. "His mother. His younger brother. Both taken by a fever years ago. He has not been the same since."

I said nothing. I had not known. In my world, Kaelen had been quiet, but I had never imagined such pain behind his silence.

"He is protective of this kingdom," Lord Valerius continued. "And of his father. Strangers are not welcomed lightly."

"I am not a threat."

"That remains to be seen."

We stopped at a door different from the one I had been given before. He pushed it open, revealing a larger chamber, with a proper bed, a hearth, and a window that looked out onto the courtyard.

"You will stay here," he said. "It is more fitting for a guest of the crown."

"Thank you."

He lingered in the doorway. "One piece of advice, Elara. Be careful what you remember. Some truths are better left buried."

Before I could ask what he meant, he was gone.

I stood in the center of the room, the silence pressing in around me. His words echoed in my mind. Be careful what you remember.

What did he know? What was he hiding?

I crossed to the window and looked out. The courtyard was empty, the torches burning low. Beyond the walls, the forest stretched into darkness, vast and unknowable.

And then I saw it.

A figure, standing at the edge of the treeline. Too far to make out details, but I felt its gaze on me. It did not move. It simply watched.

I stepped back from the window, my heart pounding.

When I looked again, the figure was gone.

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the rapid beat of my heart. I had saved Kaelen once. I had followed him into this world. But I was beginning to realize that I had not fallen into a story. I had fallen into a trap.

And somewhere in the shadows, someone was pulling the strings.

A soft knock came at my door. I opened it to find a servant girl, barely older than me, holding a folded piece of parchment.

"For you, my lady," she whispered, pressing it into my hand. "Read it in private."

She disappeared before I could thank her.

I closed the door and unfolded the parchment. The handwriting was sharp, hurried:

"Do not trust Valerius. He knows more than he says. Meet me at the old chapel at midnight if you want the truth. Come alone."

There was no signature.

I read the note three times, my mind racing. A trap? Or a lifeline?

The clock tower chimed, its bells echoing through the castle. Eleven. I had one hour.

I looked at the door. At the window. At the note in my hands.

I had come this far. I could not stop now.

I folded the parchment and tucked it into my pocket. Whatever waited in that chapel, I would face it.

Because somewhere in this world, the truth was hiding.

And I intended to find it.