I don’t ask why. Instead, I wrap my hand around the doorknob and push the door open. The room inside is beyond opulent. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It is itself a whole fairy tale. The bed is gold, like the door, the four posters fashioned to be like tree branches. Winding and spiraling up toward the ceiling, and then arcing toward one another to meet and twine around each other in the middle. There is soft pink fabric draped over the gold. The blankets and pillows on the bed are sumptuous and lovely.
I have never even fantasized about luxury on this level. I dreamed of other things.
But I can’t deny that this is…
“Is it to your liking?”
“What’s not to like?”
“You like science, and I wasn’t expecting you. Had I known perhaps I would have made a room more to your taste.”
“Does me liking science mean I can’t also like pretty things?”
“Yes,” he says.
I laugh at him. I can’t help it. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say. Science is beautiful. My study focus is going to be biology. The study of life. Of the building blocks that make up everything around us. What’s more beautiful than that?”
I realize then that I have made assumptions. Because I spoke about my studies like they might still be possible. I don’t know if that’s true. I don’t know anything.
My life is no longer guaranteed, in any capacity.
“Interesting,” he says. “I suppose I’ve never seen it that way. It was simply a subject that used to put me to sleep in school. I would much rather read. The images that words paint are sometimes the only things strong enough to blot out ugly memories.”
It’s a profound statement. And one that makes me curious, but I can see that I’ve lost him.
“I believe you,” he says. “When you need food, simply pick up the phone and order. And it will be brought to you. Using the service elevator.”
“Can I use the service elevator?” I ask.
“You are going to be queen, sparrow. You can do whatever you like.”
But much in the same way that I am not a prisoner, but not quite free, I know that I cannot actually do whatever I like. It’s only that I do not know exactly what is forbidden to me.
He leaves, closing the door firmly behind him, and I am struck by the scene on that side of the door. A naked man and woman, standing together. It’s not the same woman with the snake.
I move closer, and begin to extend my hand, and then I drop it.
I shake my head.
Then I walk over to the bed and sit down. I replay the last hour in my mind. My hands begin to shake uncontrollably, and I look down at them, trying to regain control.
I can’t.
Then I burst into tears.
Chapter Three
I cry untilI fall asleep. The burst of emotion is unexpected. I’ve been powering through everything, every hardship, every thwarted and delayed dream for so many years, and it’s as if I’ve finally hit a breaking point.
I see his blue eyes in my mind. His great and terrible beauty.
He himself is a breaking point.
When I wake up, I look out the window and see stars. I rub my eyes, and my stomach growls. I’m sure that I’ve missed my window to get food.
I sit up in bed, and then, before I even realize what I’m reacting to, I startle and begin to prepare myself to run.
Because there’s someone in the corner of my room. Sitting.
