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Another step, another, another. . .
It didn’t take long before he towered over me. So, close I could feel the warmth that came from him, his breath on my skin as he looked down upon my face. With his free hand he grabbed mine and placed the apple he held into it. His touch sent a tingle through my fingers, down my arms, and into my spine. His eyes did not break from my face as I glanced down at the fruit I now held in my own hand. It called to me to take a bite.
My stomach grumbled again.
Bringing the apple to my lips, the skin breaking under my teeth as the juices hit my tongue. It tasted far worse than it should have. It was sour, acidic, and almost rotten. The texture was like mush, my eyes flew to his.
I’d fallen for his trick.
It fell from my hand as the world spun, whatever he had done to it, it had seized every nerve, every muscle. The trees faded as the Goblin King watched, his face twisted in a look of agony and sadness. I could not control my own body, not as it staggered trying to keep its balance. I felt strong arms catch me as I fell forward.
My head spun and whirled, feeling as if I was floating, like everything around me was dancing. I felt his arms around me as I fell. The edges of my vision faded, the pitch-black creeping in. His smell stayed with me, lingered as it caressed the darkness of my mind.
Citrus, smoke, and evergreen. . .
The air was thick and heavy as I struggled to regain consciousness, the taste of bile and sourness still lingering in my mouth. My eyes fluttered open, taking in the sight of the Goblin King's face, his features remained contorted with concern as he watched over me. My head throbbed, my body felt weak and heavy as I attempted to move. His arms held me up, keeping me from falling back down as he spoke softly to me.
“You're okay, just rest,” he said, his voice filled with a gentleness that I had not yet heard from him. I couldn't help but wonder if this was just another trick, another ploy to gain the upper hand in our game. But as I looked up into his eyes, I saw no trace of malice or deceit.
“What have you done?” I asked weakly, my voice barely above a whisper. He sighed heavily, his expression pained as he sat back on his heels, still holding me in his arms.
“I had to,” he explained, his eyes never leaving mine. “You were starting to understand too much, and you aren’t ready. Not yet.”
Understanding too much? What did he mean? My mind raced with questions, confusion and frustration warring within me. I tried to sit up, but the Goblin King's grip on me tightened, preventing me from moving.
“Just rest, please,” he pleaded, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. “I promise to explain everything soon, but for now, just rest.”
I couldn't fight against the exhaustion any longer, and as my eyes drooped shut once again, I couldn't help but wonder what other secrets this place held. What other tricks the Goblin King had up his sleeve, and just how far he was willing to go to win this game.
ChapterTwenty-Five
SERRA
The image swirled and circled before me; the sound of music echoed in my head. My eyes felt heavy, as if I had fallen into a deep slumber. The sound of laughter and talk smothered me. It took effort to force my eyes open, to awaken from the cradle of sleep, of darkness that lingered. But when I finally did, I’d awoken in a sea of people.
I could not recall how I had gotten here. Everything was hazy and covered in a fog. My hands ran down my front, catching on something. I glanced down, I was not in the green bodice and navy-blue skirt anymore. Instead I wore a gown of gossamer skirts in the deepest blue, almost midnight and a bodice made of lace and crystals. The skirts sparkled as if they had been touched by the stars. Glistening and twinkling as it moved. My hands and arms were covered in dark satin gloves, delicate and soft.
It was beautiful.
Peeking down at my feet, a pair of crystal slippers covered them. Not hard or uncomfortable as one would expect. They were soft and cushioned, like walking on clouds. I saw my reflection in a mirror at the edges of the room. The sea of masked people parting slightly. My hair was curled and styled, the length of it cascading down my back. A pair of pearl combs holding back the bits around my face. My eyes were bright, aware. One deep breath, another.
Another. . .
This was a dream.
Surely it was. The last thing I could remember was the sensation of fainting, and strong arms catching me. I had to still be in the orchard. But the smell of the apples was lost here. Instead, it smelled of bright winter snow and warm chestnuts. Gazing about the room, I realized then where I was.
I was in the very center of a ballroom.
The room around me was bright, shining crystal chandeliers and gossamer gauze cascaded down the walls. Pillars of solid marble in a circle around the hardwood parquet floor. Low tables and sofas piled high with cushions for lounging at the outer edges, dotted the room. Banquet tables filled with decadent sweets and candies. Cakes and cookies. Carved meats and platter after platter of fruits, cheeses, and breads.
A group of people surrounded a table, their laughter and jokes filling the air. Each person held a crystal goblet in their hands as they talked and enjoyed themselves. In the center of the table was a fountain, pouring out a dark purple liquid that flowed over the different layers, splashing and bubbling. The sound of the liquid echoed over the music, adding to the lively atmosphere.
Faerie Wine.
The waiters deftly navigated through the bustling crowd, defying collisions as they balanced trays brimming with goblets of the beverage. Sprites flitted and danced around the room, causing playful havoc and sowing mischief wherever they went. From a raised platform, an orchestra filled the air with a haunting melody that perfectly captured the event's dark and romantic atmosphere.
All of this was reminiscent of another masquerade ball, one I had run away from, one that started all of this, but this one was different. There were no Conwell’s, there were no humans, there were no gilded metal masks. This entire crowd was boisterous and loud. No easy-going business conversations, no hushed whispers or proper greetings. The conversation here was filled with taunts and mocking ridicule as it reached my ears, trying to push through them as they closed in. The pointed ears and sharp fangs of those around me told me I was still in Inirea.
