After a night like that, Elara lay in her bed, eyes wide open, long after the sound of raindrops had ceased, and silence settled in with the dawn. Eventually, she succumbed to the embrace of sleep, her troubled mind finding momentary solace.

  A voice interrupted the silence, breaking through the remnants of her troubled dreams.

  “Lady Whitmore?”

  A gentle knock followed.

  “May I come in?”

  Recognizing the voice of her personal maid, Amelia. Elara responded, “Yes, you may, Amelia.”

  The door creaked open, and the soft shuffle of footsteps followed. “My goodness, Elara, you’re still in bed.”

  Elara, unwilling to engage in conversation, burrowed her head deeper into the pillow, shielding herself from the intruding sunlight that sneaked in through the balcony curtains.

  Amelia's steps approached the bedside. “Is everything alright?” She felt a warm, gentle touch on her head. Elara hesitated, reluctant to reveal the true reason behind her restless night.

  “Yes, just savoring the comfort of my soft bed, that's all.”

  Amelia chuckled lightly as she continued to pat Elara’s head. The usual distance maintained by maids was effortlessly bridged by years of friendship. Amelia had been Elara’s maid since birth, a constant presence in her life.

  "Duke and Duchess Whitmore are waiting at the dining hall for you. You must get ready.”

  Elara let out a sigh, stirring in her bed. Taking it as a cue, Amelia walked back to the end of the bed. Pushing the duvet off, Elara felt the slight chill of her room greeting her.

  She took a moment to survey her surroundings. The walls, adorned with intricate damask wallpaper, exuded warmth in hues of gold and cream.

  Turning to her left, an ornate vanity adorned with polished silver held an array of finely crafted brushes and cosmetic containers. A full-length mirror, framed in intricately carved mahogany, reflected the room's grandeur.

  To the far right corner beside the heavy drapes of rich burgundy framing the entrance of her balcony, are her personal mementos adorned the shelves, and a writing desk boasted with unique quills of feathers, and a book she had read before bed.

  Nothing was out of place. “Okay, I’ll get ready.” She looked at Amelia and smiled. Hoping she wouldn’t notice her tired eyes.

  The weight of the night's unsettling experience lingered, a question mark suspended between reality and dream. However, with her maid's insistence, Elara pushed those thoughts aside for the moment.

  ***

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  The dining hall exuded an air of timeless elegance, its walls adorned with rich wood paneling that gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. A long, polished mahogany table at the center, set impeccably with fine ceramics, gleaming silverware, and crystal glassware that caught the morning light streaming through the tall windows.

  Elara joined her parents for breakfast. Both Duke and Duchess Whitmore turned toward her arrival.

  “Good morning,” she curtsied, “Mother and Father.” Her parents smiled and nodded in her direction; Duke Whitmore gestured for his daughter to sit.

  Once Elara was settled, silence fell as they began eating their breakfast. The fragrance of freshly brewed coffee and the delicate aroma of pastries filled the air. The room echoed with the gentle clink of utensils against plates in the heart of the grand dining hall.

  Duke Whitmore broke the silent meal with a reminder about the upcoming tea party with the Queen held this afternoon.

  “My dear, Elara—” he wiped the crumbs at the corner of his lips—“You’re expected at the Queen’s tea party today at three. Be on your best behavior.”

  Elara halted as she felt her father’s gaze on her. “Yes, Father. I remember.”

  Holding his gaze, he added, “I expect you to be on your best behavior, Elara.”

  She couldn’t hold back furrowing her eyebrows as she look at him. “I will.” Her father nodded and resumed his meal.

  Elara took this opportunity to quickly finish her meal before her mother could say anything and excused herself, declaring her intent to prepare for the event.

  ***

  Submerged in her bathtub, Elara relaxed as she felt Amelia gently combing her hair while humming a soothing tune. The bathroom, adorned with soft glow of scented candles illuminated the space, casting a warm ambiance. The fragrance of lavender and vanilla infused the air, creating a tranquil haven.

  Elara hadn't slept well at all last night, and the soothing atmosphere of her bathroom provided only a momentary escape from the restless night.

  “Lady?” Amelia’s voice reverberated, snapping Elara out of her dazed state.

  “Hmm?” Elara laid her head at the edge of the tub, lending an ear to Amelia.

  “What do you want to wear today?”

  “I’m thinking of wearing something comfortable under the heat of the afternoon sun,” Elara offered a vague response, not delving into details, knowing Amelia loved dressing her up.

  “As you wish.” A smile crept on Elara's face, knowing well, Amelia is delighted.

  However, Elara's smile didn’t linger for long. Her mind drifted to the events of the previous night, vividly recalling the details of her unsettling dream—people screaming, a kingdom engulfed in flames. She awoke surrounded by the sudden glow of lights from her lamps and fireplace.

  ‘Does the dream mean something?’ she wondered, her thoughts echoing the memory of the sword descending to strike her down.

  ‘And why did the lamps and the fireplace glow?’ The questions lingered, shrouded in the mysterious aftermath of her haunting nightmares.

  Determined to unravel the mysteries that had haunted her night, Elara made a mental note to delve into the peculiar occurrences at the library once the tea party is over. The sudden glowing lights of lamps and fireplaces were unfamiliar territory, and her curiosity led her to consider the possibility of Pyro magic being at play. In the depths of dusty books and ancient scrolls, she hoped to find clues that might shed light on the meaning behind her unsettling dream.

  Redirecting her thoughts for the moment, Elara shifted her focus to the imminent monotony of the tea party. Despite the anticipated boredom, a glimmer of excitement flickered within her. The idea of eating the royal confections held the promise of a delightful diversion, providing a small spark of joy amidst the enigmatic mysteries that surrounded her.