Page 10 of Song of the Shadow Prince
Speaking of clothes, I looked down and noticed I’d been changed from my costume into… a dress. Like something out of a period drama, it was made of fine silk with intricate lace at the collar and cuffs. The fabric felt alien against my skin, soft and delicate, like something my great-great-great-grandmother might have worn. I mean, if she was rich, that is.
“What the hell?” I pulled the silk fabric away from me, the cool touch making me shiver. “Where are my clothes?”
She grimaced. “That ghastly black suit you had on? I burned it.”
“Youwhat?” I shouted. “It might have been ridiculous, but it cost hundreds to make! Shit, Trish is going to kill me,” I groaned and covered my face with my hands.
“Oh!” Maeve gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. “I… I noticed the markings on your arm.”
I chuckled, a dry, humorless sound as I uncovered my face. “Shouldn’t that be your first clue that I’m not your Lady Arya?” I raised an eyebrow at her.
She frowned and looked genuinely perplexed. “No, you’re definitely my mistress. You even have the same mole at the bottom of your right foot. As for the markings, I cannot explain that, but magic runs through these lands and it would be quite easy to—”
“I’m sorry, what?” I choked out, my heart skipping a beat. “Did you just say magic?” My eyes widened to the size of golf balls.
Maeve nodded innocently. “Of course.”
“Like witches and shit?” I asked, incredulous.
“Yes, witches, warlocks, werewolves, and vampires. And of course, we cannot forget the dragons.”
My mouth fell open slowly as my heart began to beat like a thousand wild horses. I laughed awkwardly. “You’re joking.” I waved her off. “Dragons? Girl, please. If there are dragons, you might as well call me Daenerys Targaryen.”
“Who?” Maeve scrunched her nose in confusion.
I eyed her carefully, wondering if she was joking or not. She had a really good poker face if she was. Who the hell didn’t watchGame of Thrones? Even if they hadn’t seen it, they at least knew the pop culture references. The series was far too popular.
“Okay, fine, so you say we’re living in a magical land. On what continent is this magical land? Are we still in North America?” I smirked, raising an eyebrow.
Maeve’s frown deepened as a look of utter cluelessness stole across her features. “North America? My lady, I’ve never heard of this place! Are you unwell? Maybe I should get the healer to come take a look at you.”
When she turned to leave, I grabbed her wrist. Her skin was soft and warm, the pulse steady under my fingers. Her expression remained stoic. “You’re not joking, are you?” I whispered, searching her face for any hint of deception.
She shook her head, her eyes earnest and filled with concern.
I released her as if she’d burned me. Nervously, Maeve left the bedroom, casting a worried look over her shoulder. I sat up on the bed, dumbfounded, wondering where the hell I was. I pinched myself again and counted my fingers, even my toes, to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, but I was wide awake… unless this was an incredibly vivid dream or I was in a coma. I smacked my cheek and winced as I rubbed away the sting.
“Fuck, that hurt,” I groaned. “I… I think I made a wrong turn at Albuquerque,” I muttered, my voice sounding bizarrely steady as I imitated one of the key lines from my favorite Looney Tunes character.
I attempted to remember everything before I was pulled up onto the boat. I was on set, preparing for the lake scene. I jumped into the water and… something grabbed my ankle and pulled me underwater. I scratched my head as I recalled my final memories.
“There was a mirror underwater,” I murmured. “I saw myself!” I quickly climbed off the bed and started to pace. “But was that me? In the reflection, I wasn’t wearing my costume… Was it possible I saw therealArya?”
I nervously nibbled my lower lip as I tried to piece everything together. It sounded absurd! Did I fall through some magical portal or worm hole?
Nah… that’s too freaking weird.
But did I?
A cool breeze wafted across the room and teased my cheeks. I turned to face the expansive French doors framed in thick, burgundy drapes and noticed they were slightly ajar. The light wind carried the scent of fresh rain. Before I could second-guess my decision, I hurried out of the room, eager to get a sense of my surroundings.
I pushed open the heavy wooden doors and was immediately hit by the fresh, earthy scent of the outdoors as I stepped into a pristine courtyard. The space was an open-air sanctuary with pathways of smooth, weathered stones that branched out, leading to other living spaces. I'd never seen a living area designed this way, with nature seamlessly integrated into the architecture.
I rushed down one of the walkways, the cool stone under my bare feet contrasting sharply with the warmth of the sun filtering through the canopy of trees above. Birds merrily chirped, their songs blending with rustling leaves and the distant trickle of a burbling fountain. The air was fresh and filled with a heady mix of roses and jasmine.
As I rounded a corner, I collided with something solid and unyielding. “The fuck?” I shrieked as my forehead bounced off a rock-hard chest. Rubbing my forehead, a calloused hand gripped my wrist and pulled me upright before I could stumble.
“What are you doing out of bed?” he barked, his voice deep and guttural, the sound reverberating through me.
