Page 130 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
I sat in my usual seat and stared blankly at my plate. Every inch of me felt displaced, like I no longer belonged here.
“Trey?”
Blinking, I looked up to find Father frowning at me in concern. “Huh?”
“Everything alright?”
“Yes, I just … have you ever had a really long dream that feels like it takes place overweeks, and when you wake up you’re like ‘wow, I will certainly remember every detail of that’, except you don’t? Like, two seconds after you wake up,poof”—I flicked my fingers to demonstrate the word—“it’s gone.”
My fathers exchanged worried looks. “No, can’t say that I have,” Dad replied.
“What do you remember?” Father asked as he sipped his coffee.
“There was someone … doing something … somewhere.”
“Very helpful,” Dad said.
I scowled at him. “I’mtryingto remember, but it’s like everything was erased. Like it never happened.”
“Dreams are always kind of chaotic.”
The word ‘chaotic’ echoed in my mind, like it was the answer to a question I didn’t know I needed to ask.
“By the way, Trey.” Father’s expression grew serious, and he set his coffee down, giving me his full attention. “We need to discuss something with you after breakfast.”
I nodded along. “Right, the quest.”
They exchanged another concerned look. “What quest?”
“The quest to …” For a second, I had a glimpse of an ugly, twisted forest. The image was hazy, growing fainter as I tried to focus on it. “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”
“Maybe this should wait.” Father leaned forward and pressed the back of his hand against my forehead. “Are you feverish?”
“I’m not feverish,” I said, but I leaned into his touch. It was nice in a way I couldn’t quite describe—like it’d been taken away from me and then unexpectedly given back. “Just groggy, I think.”
“If you’re sure.”
I nodded. “I’m sure. What did you want to talk about?”
“It’s a private state matter,” Father explained. “Not something to be discussed at the table.”
Since I didn’t want to stew in anticipation, I ate quickly, taking long gulps of coffee to help make the food go down faster. Then I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood up. “Ready?”
Dad, who was only halfway through his meal, blinked up at me in surprise. “Eager to get this over with?”
“Yeah, I …” My brow furrowed as I tried to identify the root of my anxiety. The mess was such a tangle, I couldn’t separate the beginning from the end. “I need to know what’s happening. I think it’s important.”
“It is important,” Father confirmed, setting his napkin over his plate. He pushed away from the table. “Let’s move to my office.”
As I sat in the visitor’s chair in front of my father’s desk, I had an odd sense that I’d been here before.Of course I have—I’ve literally sat in this chair hundreds of times.Yet this felt different … more, specific. Like I was still chasing that dream.
“Trey,” Father began. Then he softened his voice and said, “Treasure. Your dad and I, well, you know the reason for our marriage.”
I nodded along. “You had to marry as a condition of the Kingdom Defense Spell.”
They both stared at me, mouths slightly open. “You know about that?” Dad asked, then turned his confusion on Father. “Did you tell him?”
Father shook his head. “How did you learn that?”
