Chapter Text
A silver snake. Amethyst eyes. Scarlet hair. Blood. Lips mouthing your name. An altar. White roses. A manicured hand. A brilliant owl. Blood dripping from sharp white teeth. Screaming. Intense pain. A sharp ringing growing louder, and louder, and louder. Deafening. And at last, fire, consuming all.
You woke with a start. Sweat covered your forehead, hair sticking to your neck. Your satin sheets clinging to wet skin. You'd been having this dream for a while now. You can't remember when it began. You can barely remember anything.
You’d been having premonitions in the form of dreams for a long time. It's why you were invited to the palace in the first place. But you can't remember any time before the palace. Just a vague memory of cinnamon and honey. Love. Warmth. Home.
Did those memories even exist in the first place? Or were those just your own mind trying to fill in the gaps for you?
You pulled a white chiffon over dress atop your usual sleeping garments. The count’s wife had made sure you had all the clothing you would need to be comfortable here. The night’s clothes consisted of soft cloth shorts and a tank like top. Them being kept under the sheer robe kept an air of modesty to you. You simply looked like an ethereal ghost of purity.
Not wishing to return to sleep, fearing the dream again, you pulled on some light slippers and began to walk through the garden. Your mind always cleared while you were surrounded by the greenery and the earth. The flowers. The light tinkling of the fountain in the middle.
The garden liked to play tricks on you sometimes, though.
Sometimes out of the corner of your eye you could see figures. One in particular. You couldn't fully see him, but he was light. Tan. Fluffy hair. He calmed you. You yearned to see his gaze. Tonight was no different.
You sat at the edge of the fountain, dragging your fingers lightly through the water. It was perfectly clear, reflecting the stars in the night sky, the swirling, deep blues that held them in their place. Your own reflection seemed calmed, if not a bit melancholy. Your hair cascaded over your shoulder, undone, slightly disheveled. Your face was still a bit flushed from the dream.
You tore your gaze away, stepping away from the fountain. Lying in the grass, you allowed your eyes to close. It seemed only dozing here granted your mind peace. A deterrent of sorts. You were exposed and vulnerable here, yes, though you felt like the garden itself would protect you. And somehow, the palace seemed more threatening. In that dark room.
You drifted to sleep.
****
Lucio had seen you leave from his own window. What's the damned apprentice doing at this hour? You were a white vision, glowing, against the dark night. So pure. He knew you'd taken a vow of chastity ever since you'd vowed to serve in the chapel for the palace. You were a priestess of sorts, a servant of the divine gift you had of foresight. That made you all the more intriguing. Something you cannot have.
Or should not have.
You couldn't evade him forever. Your protector no longer could protect you. Not in the palace, at least. Though instinctually, you always seemed to enter the garden. As if in your heart you knew Lucio couldn't reach you there, but he could. You can't have remembered. It was impossible. But the heart of someone in love can be magical.
****
You were asleep. Soft breaths escaped your mouth. You were quite the sight. A slumbering angel in the grass. Your hair swirling around you, cradling you. Asra knelt beside you, caressing your face.
This was a sort of nightly occurrence for him. You didn't see him. But he would protect you in the night. As you slept, he would redo protective charms on you. It was all he could do for you.
He had allowed you into the belly of the beast. He had no choice, of course. Lucio had threatened your life. Asra couldn't watch you die if he could stop it. But, your memories were erased, locked away. A prison of your own design which only you could break. Your own counter measure to protect him in return.
And like every night, he would kiss your forehead, breathing sweet dreams into your mind. It was painful, only being able to see you as you slumbered, unable to remember him. He was terrified for you to even see him. He knew your spells were powerful. Who knows what could happen?
Through the brush a branch broke. Instantly alert, Asra sat up. Footsteps approaching.
Through the brush a young serving maiden came, suspicious. Her scarlet hair was tied in a ribbon, a comfortable white shirt sitting on her shoulders. She sighed as she looked at your slumbering body. Only you, again.
“You really need to stop falling asleep out here,” she muttered to herself. She felt your forehead to make sure you weren't feverish, and carefully nudged you. Fast asleep, like usual. You looked peaceful, though.
She shook you gently, as your eyes slowly opened, a yawn escaping your mouth. “Portia...?” you questioned.
“You fell asleep out here again. I know you have trouble sleeping in the palace, but you honestly need to stop doing this!” She sighed. “You should talk to the Doctor in the morning. He's bound to have something that will help your dreams.”
“Would you mind allowing me to sleep in your cottage again? Just this last time,” you pleaded. The cottage almost felt warm and protecting to you, too.
“Fine. Just this last time. But tomorrow I'm taking you straight to the doctor. Clear?”
“As rain,” you replied. Unbeknownst to the both of you, a beautiful owl was watching you both through the trees. It soared again, back to its owner at the palace.
“Ah, sleeping in the garden again, was she?” the countess spoke to her bird. “I suppose it's alright, if just one more time. It's not like it's dangerous there, anyway. Maybe I can convince my husband to build her a quarters there.”
Nadia returned to her bed, attempting to remove the constant headache she seemed to have. She never slept side by side with her husband. They'd consummated the marriage of course, but only once. They could barely stand each other. It was strictly political on Lucio’s part.
As you slumbered yourself on Portia’s small window seat, you dreamt of a beautiful man with soft white hair. You could never quite remember his features entirely. Only his vibrant purple eyes.