7 The Haunting Reflections

Alyssane hated her dreams.

Half her life was devoid of them, and when they did arrive, they always left her feeling weary.

That night she was plunged into the heart of Pleasure City, in a place she had never been before. Her gaze was unmoving from the distance shadow of a familiar tower, while the air was bathed in the sinister haze of a violet smoke.

The urgent tolls of the city bell echoed, their sound a haunting lullaby lulling her into deeper, distant darkness.

She closed her eyes, trying to regain control over consciousness, she had to see what was happening, she had to know, but the drowsiness was far too strong. Her vision slipped in and out of her grasp as she staggered, catching a glimpse of ghostly empty streets.

And him.

There was only malice in his gaze, one that dug into her flesh like a poisonous knife. When he whispered, his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

"Did you think you could escape?" 

The dream vanished.

With a sudden start, Alyssane's eyes snapped open. Her nerves were bound in a frozen knot, the lingering sensation from the dream burrowing deep in her bones.

She wondered why she dreamed of him, and her mind drifted off to that night in the woods. Forgotten fears and worries flooded her heart once again.

And her breaths grew heavy. 'Such a vile man!'

Weren't the knights supposed to save damsels in distress? But he was so cruel, and through the haze of memories, he was so... strangely soothing when he carried her in his arms.

Her heart died a little recalling the shadow of his warmth.

Alyssane slowly curled her fingers, glancing around the unfamiliar place.

It was a lavish room, bathed in the golden glow of numerous lamps and candles. Her bed was veiled by velvety curtains. Everything she could see was gilded, ornate, and uncomfortably expensive.

"What the hell is this…?" Alyssane wondered, getting down from the bed.

She was distracted once again, now by how soft the sheets and mattress felt. Her clothes were also different, silk with elaborate laces no slave would have ever worn.

'He decided to keep me as his mistress?'

Not only was everything around her so comfortable, but she also felt refreshed and immensely light. Alyssane slowly reached out and touched her stomach.

The heaviness of her wounds seemed to be long gone, and she felt none of the burning effects of poison either. Her gaze lingered over the wrapped bandages around her wrist. She remembered the pain when had first grabbed her.

'Was it this worse?'

She felt the dull ache of something broken inside.

Right then, the door gently opened, and an old man in a simple gown and a wide hat walked in. He glanced at Alyssane once and spoke in the nonchalance of a child being forced to recite a book.

"You were poisoned and you had severe anemia, lady. It would be best to take timely medicines, be watchful of your meals, and do ensure adequate sleep and rest."

The doctor gestured at a knight standing in the shadow of the room's corner. "I have informed him about the diet you must follow."

Alyssane followed his eyes, startled.

The knight in question was a stranger, unfairly tall, and looked back at her with a sour expression that made her debate whether he would be sharing the doctor's advice at all.

But how was he able to stay so silent all this time?

"Are you having any trouble with sleep?" The doctor asked curtly.

"No." Alyssane shook her head.

"Any sort of discomfort or unease?"

Alyssane shook her head again.

"You're no longer falling apart then," he mumbled, and glanced at the knight with the same curtness, "My job here is done."

He fixed his hat and walked off.

Alyssane looked at the knight, he was already silently looking at her. But since he didn't bother saying anything, she decided not to care for a conversation either.

She stepped down from the bed and walked out of the room. 

"Oh, this is a tavern." Alyssane realized, "Are these supposed to be this quiet?"

She could not hear anything even when she tried to, and the large hallway was empty.

"No." The knight curtly said and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, "And you're not allowed to wander."

Alyssane slowly nodded and let him take her back inside the room.

She was feeling somewhat uneasy to be in a place that beautiful. It looked deceptive, contradictory to who she was and the crimes she had done.

Alyssane had so many questions, she was not sure where to start and what to say, or whether the brooding man following her would even care to answer.

"Where is the other knight?" She finally asked, her thoughts returning to her dream and the way he stared straight into her soul.

'With such pure hate…'

Her heart sank, as she wondered if it would be him who decided she was deserving of some care and tending. That seemed unlikely, considering how he couldn't even hold her hand without hurting it. But if that was the case, she was even more confused.

Even more nervous.

'Is this all some test?'

"...Lord Kazmun," The knight responded after a pause. "He is busy."

"When will he come?"

"He may not," came the reply.

"When will you leave?" 

"I won't," the knight responded coldly, his eyes narrowing. "You'd do well to remember your place and remain silent."

Alyssane stopped when she caught her reflection in the mirror. 

Her eyes had always been a light, nearly unsettling, shadow of silver. But now they were a shade darker, almost grey like the skies of a storm.

'Everything is becoming so confusing…' she thought, a crease appearing between her brows.

'You are the madwoman after all, aren't you?' asked another voice.

"But," Alyssane tried not to think too much about her eyes, and ignored the reflection, "Why am I even here?" 

"I wonder," The knight responded, he saw Alyssane fitter for a dungeon, and she thought that too, "But your trial is on hold for now."

Alyssane paused and looked at him with puzzlement.

"You were poisoned. That changes things." He replied, "But you are still a convict."

She was having a hard time believing it. 

Are the knights second-guessing the crimes of a slave? Some knights had nearly killed Alyssane for stealing a rose when she was eleven.

'Or perhaps, when it came to aristocratic deaths, they truly cared about unearthing the truth.' She thought.

But still, a lavish tavern was no place for someone accused of murder and treason.

"Well," Alyssane sighed, feeling more lost than ever, "How am I a convict if you found poison in me?"

The knight now coldly stared at her, "I told you. Stop talking."

"Just one question-'

"No." He sternly stated.

She stopped talking but looked at him as if he had lost his mind. At first, the knight only stared back, but after a moment of feeling uneasy under her unmoving gaze, he added in an irritated tone.

"We are investigating everything. You will know things when you deserve to know. Understood?"

Alyssane rolled her eyes and dropped the subject. 

She was more bothered by something else now… there seemed no end to her puzzles. But ever since Alyssane had woken up, a small voice was questioning her about the silence all around.

The tavern appeared empty… but what about the city? 

It was supposed to be bustling with all sorts of people and pleasantries. She had heard people talk about how the Pleasure City was never asleep, never dull―instead, it was alive with a heavenly festive air.

Alyssane pushed open the windows and peered outside, but no sooner had her gaze fallen than her blood turned to frost. 

It was a haunting reflection of her dream.

The streets were empty and abandoned.