Chapter Text
The royal castle rose upon the hill like a warning of her sealed future.
From a distance, countless moons and suns ago, Vickie Dunne had thought it looked beautiful.
She had even believed it celestial the day her father announced her engagement,
but now, standing before the iron gates and towering walls, she understood that beauty could be deeply subjective.
The carriage pulled away completely, leaving her before the palace’s aged stone, which over time had lost its characteristic gray color. The banners, tall, red, and heavy, hung from the highest towers, motionless, as if the wind itself obeyed strict rules there.
Her hand carried the only bag her mother had allowed her to bring, holding what was supposed to be her entire life.
At her side stood her now betrothed. The heir, Daniel, did not say a single word; his eyes reflected nothing but restraint and genuine silence.
A splendid contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts spinning uncontrollably inside Vickie’s mind.
They walked through the long corridor, Daniel’s arm the only physical anchor keeping her from running away and disappearing completely.
Her entire world sank as she brushed past those ancient walls, pillars and stones that seemed to beg to be read, yet were ignored by everyone and herself, by only force.
Each step felt like erasing her own history.
They finally reached a great door leading to what appeared to be the tallest and brighter tower.
Two maids waited on either side, their smiles sweet, practiced, almost tattooed onto their faces.
“These shall be your chambers. The maids will guide you to your room so you may arrange your belongings,” Daniel declared, looking at her with the heavy solemnity that defined him.
with eyes full of nothing,he watched her, waiting for a verbal response that never came.
and Vickie merely nodded, releasing his arm.
“I will see you at dinner,” he added, as if expecting something more from the woman he was meant to love, before disappearing among walls filled with memories, but not his owns.
She watched him until he became nothing more than a shadow.
then, Vickie approached the door with caution.
One of the maids took the bag from her hand, while the other opened the door, revealing an endless staircase of dirt-colored stone.
The maids chatted behind her as they climbed the circular stairs, both completely ignoring the heaviness of the place, as if they had long ago accepted how small they were within it.
At the top, they placed her belongings inside the room and, before leaving, the shorter one announced with an almost genuine light on her face:
“I will come fetch you later for dinner, miss.”
And then, she was alone all over again.
There was nothing and no one she hated more than solitude.
The room was pink and unfamiliar, built of cold stone and fine fur rugs.
Silk and thread everywhere, white bows decorating the mirror and the furniture.
Light barely entered through a small circular window set into one of the walls.
Vickie sat upon the large white bed, far softer than anything she had ever known, and lay back, closing her eyes.
She imagined a world where this was not happening.
Where her father had not lost his earnings. Where it had not been necessary to bargain her future with the recent widow of the king. Where she was still in her home, surrounded by the maids who had raised her, her mother’s laughter filling every corner.
Countless hours passed as she watched the sky, completely alone, imprisoned in that delicately decorated cage meant for a princess.
She arranged her dresses, brushed her hair, and hid her books, while silent tears, like falling leaves of a tree, slid down her flushed cheeks.
At some point between dusk and the moon’s awakening, the soft voice of the maid called at her door, announcing that it was time for dinner.
They descended the spiral stairs and walked through shadows and flames until they reached a great hall illuminated by silver candelabras.
At the center lay a long table. Along its sides stretched endless rows of maids and butlers holding infinite plates of food, and at its far end waited four figures:
Daniel, dressed in a gray and white suit with golden edges and red patterns emblematic of the kingdom; the queen, her gray hair carefully arranged, framing her face in a haunting manner, wrapped in a gown of the same deep red; and in front of them, two small blond heads.
The twins watched her approach. They wore identical golden suits, freckles scattered across their faces, so similar to her own that the sight tightened something in her chest.
With almost shame, Vickie took her seat beside Daniel. Before her, an empty plate waited.
“It is a great honor to finally meet you in person, lady Dunne. I have heard nothing but praise of you from your father,” the queen said, her voice raspy and dark, making Vickie wish she could disappear on the spot.
“Have you settled in well?” Daniel asked, as maids and servants moved around the table serving the feast.
“I have. The tower is… captivating to my eyes,” Vickie replied. Her voice, usually soft, sounded deeper after an entire day without using or recognizing it.
“I am glad to hear it. My own mother crafted it with the help of my brothers.”
Vickie’s gaze returned to the children, who devoured the feast with enthusiasm, as if it were a royal mission. Greasy fingers, expensive cutlery clashing against porcelain.
After that brief exchange, the conversation dissolved. No one addressed her again. Silence settled over the table like another guest.
A world full of mutes. So unlike her home, where every meal overflowed with stories and shared laughter.
Vickie had always loved colliding with words, wandering for hours through the most mundane thoughts of life.
It struck her as strange that the children did not laugh or sing, and she wondered if, within those castle walls, every soul was victim to a shared emotional fatigue.
She heard no other voice until Daniel politely placed his cutlery down and took her arm.
“We shall retire now, Mother. Have a pleasant evening.”
Though everything in her wished to stay there, even at that table devoid of affection, never to return to that room, she followed her betrothed out of the hall.
“I hope you enjoyed dinner. Our chefs are most exquisite, are they not?” he asked, offering a smile that was forced, yet warm.
“Very lovely….” she replied.
Daniel helped her up the stairs to her tower. At the door, he released her arm once more, as if they were both destined to repeat the same motions day after day, like small insignificant puppets.
but this time, he cleared his throat and addressed someone else.
“She is your official guard. A knight of my own army. Any movement you ever make must be in her company.”
Daniel brushed Vickie’s arm with a gesture meant to be protective, though it convinced her of nothing.
“Rest well. I will see you in the morning for prayers.”
He kissed her cheek and walked away.
She wished she could wipe that foul feeling from her skin.
Vickie, trembling from the cold that seeped through the walls and wrapped around her with malice, turned toward the knight.
Her gaze seemed lost somewhere between the unseen horizon and the stone ceiling. She held her helmet beneath her left arm. Her dark but warm blond hair fell behind her ears and with firm, distant posture, she inclined her head subtly.
“My Lady Dunne” she said. Her raspy voice. entirely unlike the queen’s, echoed against the walls.
“Are you the one meant to accompany me, the one to whom I must entrust my safety?” Vickie asked, meeting her sea eyes impossible to ignore.
“That is correct. Buckley. It is my duty to ensure your calm. I will be here all night, should you require anything.”
She opened the door and stepped aside.
“It is good to know, thank you…Have a good night,” Vickie said, offering a small smile before stepping inside, leaving her in the other side.
Back in the room, she noticed a silk dress laid upon the bed and a letter bearing her father’s name written on the envelope.
She took it, pressed it to her chest after changing, and without daring to open it, was claimed by sleep.
sleep haunted by the castle’s emotional emptiness,
and by the constant, impossible-to-ignore breathing of the nameless knight beyond the heavy door that separated her completely from the rest of the world.