Dark Halls, Stone Walls

Chapter Ten

I had another dream and though it wasn't as vivid as some of the others, I wanted to note it as fast as I could.

It was an evening funeral. That shining silver sphere called the "moon" wasn't out because all those "clouds" were blocking it and the "stars" away from view. Will, who I still could not see even in my dreams, was in it. He was crying over a grave.

For some reason, I was far away among a crowd of spectators. I could not move—it felt like I shouldn't. I don't know if he was planning to wed me or not at the point the dream took place, but it all felt so distant. Surely I should have been there with him, right?

"The prince is dead." I heard someone whisper behind me to a child. "Hush."

After that, it was all a blur.

I paused to stare at the flickering flame beside me. Noreen was the one that brought the candles this time, though she couldn't talk and immediately left the room after dropping them, fresh bread, a bit of fruit, and a pitcher of water off. She said something about the chef wanting to apologize for what had happened with the moldy bread. I showed her that I took it at face value. I figured that it wasn't worth the energy to argue otherwise.

That satisfied her enough at least.

I had invested myself into different books of all genres since, at least, the ones that were under the bed. I was sure there were more in the library, but both Laura and Noreen said that the library wasn't available. I wanted to call them on their bluff—after all, they were serving that difficult specimen of a man—but I had enough books to satiate my curiosity about... well, anything.

The year was at least past 1918 because that's when the Great War ended. There was nothing else more recent than that, but at least I could assume what the landscape of the world might look like, if only through the lense of a young officer.

One could only assume that the prince that died was the same author of that journal from yesterday, which made him the brother of Will, which in turn made Will a prince of the Old Fog's Kingdom—not the King. Not the "master of the castle." I, his bride, would have been the Princess alongside him, had I not gotten myself into the situation I did.

Which led me back to the question I asked at the start: "Why would do such a thing?"

I feel like if my was-going-to-be husband could just explain how to undo this mess, everyone would be happier, faster. I scribbled down. However, if the King himself is telling Prince William that I cannot be allowed to remember anything, then why not lock me in a dark, locked cell until my trial? I could leave earlier quite a few times. Unless the security is usually that lax, I don't know if the King himself ordered it, or if Prince William is doing this of his own volition and no one is following along for one reason or another.

Either way, I'm already a traitor according to them, so I don't mind breaking a few more rules. They can strike me down personally if they so feel like it. Until then, I'm going to try to remember everything so I can get out of this godforsaken place.

I signed off on my journal and left it to take a bath.

I donned my usual outfit as I wandered about the halls once again. I hummed the tune Laura sang when we first met with jubilance and carelessness. It was a small comfort in the face of almost complete darkness.

Despite my uneasiness, I roamed still, farther yet away from my stuffy abode. My feet pivoted left, carry me forward, left and then a right, right, up the stairs and so forth. I never once bumped into a wall.

Perhaps one can get used to this nonsense, I thought with chagrin. But I wouldn't have to if people around here were any semblance of normal.

My feet protested with throbs of pain as I took another step. Even if I didn't know what time it was, this was enough to tell me that I had been walking for much too long. The loafers I had on were already a bit too tight, but it only grew worse as my feet swelled throughout the day.

I looked around and sharply exhaled. I mean, this security is even worse than I thought! Even the lowest-ranking servant should've seen me by now, so why aren't there any guards? Every guard that hasn't even tried to report me should be fired, and every other bystander should be ashamed for allowing it to go this far.

And to not have a single torch in sight! No wonder they can't call me out if they can't see me—oh I've had it! I stopped humming and caught the heel of each shoe with my index finger. I yanked the leather torture devices off my feet in a rush and held them by the laces in my right hand.

My feet flattened against the stone floor. Through my thin socks, the floor's coldness massaged my tired muscles. The agony swiftly ceased for the most part and any remaining pain ebbed away as I moved forward.

Then I stubbed my toe on a wall's corner.
Damn you, I silently swore while I rubbed my foot. Damn you for being so much of a nothing!

Not wanting a repeat, I stuck to the walls and used my hands to guide me along it.
Can these people see in the dark or something?! I clenched my teeth. Not only can they see me while I can't see them, but they also have these advantage over me? God, if I didn't want this marriage to happen, I think this would be why! What a ridiculous power imbalance! Even if they were the kindest people in the world, I couldn't be comfortable knowing what they had over me.

The tips of my fingers grew numb to the bumps and edges, then soon after, the rest of my fingers were. I continued "looking" around with my hands, despite the oddity.

I had to find him—I had to find Prince William.
Could I hold him hostage and force him to tell me everything he knows? I frowned. Even if I could, that's not a good idea. What the hell am I thinking? Focus!

I wrung my hands and tried to listen to the hall. It was quiet. Too quiet. Like someone could be holding their breath so as to not make too much noise.

I stopped walking and breathed in and out as slowly as possible. My heart pounded in my ears and beat against my ribcage.
If there is someone there, I begged, please let it be Prince William. Please.

Someone's eyes cast upon me. The pressure of their gaze seared into the back of my neck.

Please... I don't know how much more I can take.

I forced my body to relax. I rehearsed all sorts of possibilities in my head as images flashed through my mind.

Please.

The unseen figure made a slight mistake—a small squeak on the floor somewhere beside me gave them away. I remained frozen.

Please.

Author's note:
Hey guys! I'm really sorry about the short chapter this time! I posted a small one in the middle of the week and didn't have time to flesh this one out properly. I actually had a decent-sized chapter for this one planned (alongside another half-chapter) and ready to go, but I realized last minute that it just wouldn't fit, so I changed things around. (I still have the chapter and the chapter and a half, but you all won't see it for another few more posts.)
I wanted to try something but I wanted to get YOUR input on this—do you prefer weekly, longer chapters or shorter, more frequent chapters? Please let me know in the comments! Thank you!