Chapter 2-This Must be a Dream

When I opened my eyes again, I almost cried in relief.

Almost.

For one stupid, blissful second, I thought I’d woken up back in my dorm room. That all of it—the crying women, the silk sheets, the psycho lady in black—had been some vivid stress-dream my brain cooked up after one too many energy drinks.

But then I saw them.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Just breathe, I told myself. Just wake up. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Any second now, I’d open my eyes and see my dorm ceiling—the cheap plaster cracks, the glow of my laptop still sitting on my desk, my roommate snoring like a dying engine.

I held my breath, counted to five, and opened my eyes.

Still here.

The same room. The same silken sheets. The same cluster of women staring at me like I was made of glass.

“Oh, come on,” I whispered, running a shaky hand through my hair. “This has got to be the worst nightmare of my life.”

“My Queen?” one of them said softly.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, climbing off the bed.

The moment my bare feet hit the polished floor, the women gasped like I’d just set myself on fire.

“Your Majesty, please!” one cried, rushing forward with her hands out as if I might shatter. “You shouldn’t move so suddenly!”

“I shouldn’t—” I stared at her, incredulous. “What am I, a porcelain doll?”

They exchanged glances, their faces pale and trembling.

"Your Majesty, we're just worried about you...you tried...you tried to kill yourself...by jumping off the cliff into the ocean..." One of the women said, eyes closing like she was recalling a terrible memory.

I looked at her in confusion.

“I need answers,” I muttered, pacing across the room. The silk nightdress brushed my legs as I moved, the hem whispering against my skin. I ignored it, running both hands through my hair and turning on them.

“So,” I said slowly, my voice rising, “what you’re trying to tell me is that… I—the queen—tried to kill herself by jumping into the ocean?”

The maids froze.

Their silence was answer enough.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“My Queen,” the oldest woman said, stepping forward carefully, “are you feeling unwell? You’ve been through so much—perhaps you shouldn’t speak—”

“I’m not your queen!” I shouted, the words ripping out before I could stop them. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here or if this is some messed-up movie set I’ve been kidnapped into, but I want out!”

The women looked horrified. One clutched her chest. Another whispered something under her breath that sounded like a prayer.

“Kidnapped?” one of them echoed, her voice trembling. “My Queen, no—you almost died. If the King hadn’t given you his blood to drink, you would have been gone forever.”

I blinked. “His what?”

“His blood,” she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “To save you.”

“Ew—blood?!” I recoiled, my stomach turning. “What the hell are you talking about? What is this place?”

They stared at me, confused and terrified, as if my reaction was more shocking than the words coming out of their mouths.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to steady myself. “Nope. Nope. I’m done. I’m leaving. I’m not going to put up with whatever is going on here—I’m out of here.”

I turned toward the massive double doors, but before I could take two steps, two of them rushed to block my path.

“Please, Your Majesty, wait!” one cried. “You must calm down!”

“Calm down?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “I wake up in a stranger’s bed, in this strange room and you’re telling me to calm down?”

They flinched. One of them looked like she might faint.

“Your Majesty,” whispered the youngest one, her hands twisting nervously in her apron. “Please, you might have hit your head. Maybe… maybe if we remind you what’s at stake, you’ll remember.”

“What’s at stake?” I repeated, letting out a sharp, humorless laugh. “The only thing at stake is my sanity.”

The girl’s eyes filled with tears. “Please, just listen.”

“I don’t want—”

“Your Majesty,” another interrupted, her voice cracking. “Please don’t leave. You have to get back your honor in this palace.”

That made me pause.

I turned to face her slowly. “My… what?”

“Your honor,” she said firmly, her chin trembling but her eyes steady. “I don’t know what happened to you, but I know you’ve been hurt—by the King and by his mistress. But please, don’t give them more reason to insult you.”

The air in the room shifted.

For the first time, I heard something new in their voices—not just fear. Pity.

I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

The oldest maid swallowed hard. “The King’s mistress always finds even the smallest excuse to humiliate you, my Queen. She mocks you for your weakness, for the King’s hatred, for everything. And the King… he does nothing to stop her.”

My stomach twisted. “Wait—so the King hates me?”

The women looked at each other.

“He reminds you often,” one said quietly. “That you were forced upon him.”

I stared at her, disbelief slamming into me like a physical blow. “Forced upon him? What does that even mean? Why would anyone force a man to marry someone he—” I stopped myself, pressing a hand to my mouth. “Oh my God.”

The pieces clicked together in my mind like shards of glass.

The mistress. The fear. The bruises on my wrists. The word Queen.

Whoever’s life I was in—it wasn’t a fairy tale.

It was a fucking cage.

The oldest woman stepped closer, her voice trembling but resolute. “Tonight, my Queen,” she said softly, “you’ll have to be strong. For the first time in three years, you’ve been summoned by His Majesty.”

“Summoned?” I repeated, my voice barely a whisper. “What for?”

They hesitated.

The silence stretched long enough to make my skin crawl.

“What?” I demanded. “Say it.”

The youngest one’s lips trembled. “To regain your honor,” she said finally. “Tonight, you will face him. You’ll prove you’re still worthy to stand as his Queen.”

My heart pounded so hard I could feel it echo in my ears. “What the hell does that mean?”

The oldest maid took a step forward, lowering her voice to a near whisper. “He has finally agreed,” she said. “After three years of marriage, His Majesty has agreed to consummate your union.”

The room went silent.

The words hit me like a thunderclap.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I just stood there, staring at them, my pulse roaring in my head.

“Consummate?” I repeated, my voice flat. “As in—sex?”

None of them answered. They didn’t need to. Their silence said everything.

My knees felt weak. I stumbled back, gripping the bedpost like it could anchor me to reality.

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real.

I was a college student, for God’s sake. I had a quiz, a life, friends—a normal existence that didn’t involve kings, mistresses, or royal blood-drinking rituals.

And now I was being told that tonight—tonight—I was supposed to… sleep with a stranger? A king who supposedly hated me?

No. No way in hell.

“This is insane,” I whispered. “You’re insane. All of you.”

One of the maids burst into tears. “Please, Your Majesty,” she sobbed. “Don’t speak like that. If the King hears, he’ll punish you again—”

“Again?” My voice cracked. “He’s punished me before?”

The room went dead quiet.

No one moved. No one spoke.

And that silence—that awful, knowing silence—was worse than any answer they could’ve given me.

Something inside me twisted hard.

I didn’t know who this queen was or what kind of life I’d fallen into, but one thing was clear: she had been living a nightmare long before I ever woke up in her place.

And now, that nightmare was mine.

I forced myself to stand tall, even though my hands were shaking.

“Okay,” I said slowly, my voice shaking but steady enough to make them look up. “Let’s pretend this isn’t a complete fever dream for a second. You’re saying that tonight—after three years—this king finally wants to… sleep with me?”

The oldest maid nodded hesitantly.

“And I’m supposed to just… what? Smile? Pretend everything’s fine? Pretend I’m not terrified?”

“My Queen,” she whispered, “you have no choice.”

A bitter laugh tore from my throat. “Oh, I always have a choice.”

But even as I said it, a cold dread pooled in my stomach.

Because deep down, I wasn’t sure I did.

The women bowed their heads, murmuring prayers or blessings I couldn’t understand. Their voices faded to a dull hum in my ears.

All I could hear was my own heartbeat, fast and wild, like a trapped bird slamming against a cage.

I took a shaky breath and looked at them.

“Tell me one thing,” I said quietly. “This king—what kind of man is he?”

They hesitated again, and that hesitation was answer enough.

The oldest maid finally whispered, “Cruel.”

The word hung in the air like a curse.

Cruel.

My throat went dry.

“Right,” I said, forcing out a shaky laugh that didn’t sound like me. “Cruel. Great. Perfect.”

My gaze drifted to the window. Outside, the sky was gray, heavy with clouds. Somewhere beyond those walls was freedom. My freedom.

I didn’t know how I’d gotten here, or why I was trapped in another woman’s life—but one thing I knew for sure: I wasn’t about to be anyone’s victim.

I wasn’t going to let some monster king touch me.

He might have broken her. But he hadn’t met me.

I clenched my fists, my pulse hammering with new resolve.

“Fine,” I said, meeting their wide, tearful eyes. “If I’m supposed to meet this king tonight…”

I took a slow breath, my voice dropping to a whisper.

“…then he’s about to meet a queen he’s never seen before.”