Chapter 4 The Drowning Dream

The warm glow of candlelight danced across the polished dark wood of the dining table, casting long, flickering shadows on the walls. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been since my awakening, a fragile peace settling over the family as we gathered for dinner.

"How was your day, Aurelia?" My father asked, his voice carrying a note of genuine warmth. "How did you find Lady Octavi?"

"It was a good day, Father," I replied, finding a small, genuine smile. "Lady Octavi is an amazing person. She told me so much about our family and the peerage, and she even showed me some of her sword stances."

My father raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Did she? Showed off her sword moves already, has she?"

"She did," I confirmed, my gaze shifting to Aurelio. He was practically vibrating with an energy he was trying desperately to contain. "And speaking of swords, Father, there is something I wished to ask you."

"Oh? What is it, Aurelia?"

"It seems Aurelio has taken a keen interest in swordsmanship. He was incredibly impressed by Lady Octavi's demonstration and asked her to teach him. She graciously accepted but said she would need your permission first. May he have your permission to learn from her?"

My father’s gaze shifted from me to Aurelio, whose eyes were now wide with hopeful anticipation, and then to my mother.

My mother, Cordelia, simply smiled. "My dear, I leave our children's education in your capable hands. I trust your judgement."

Marcus turned his attention back to his son, a thoughtful expression on his face. "But is he not too young? He is only seven, my dear."

"Other noble families begin training their sons at seven," she countered gently. "I think it is the perfect age for him to begin."

"Very well," my father conceded, a smile finally breaking through. He looked at Aurelio, his eyes twinkling. "Aurelio, you may learn the sword. But you will learn it from me."

"From you, Father?" I asked, surprised. "Are you familiar with the sword?"

My mother let out a soft, melodious laugh. "Oh, my dear Aurelia, it seems you are unaware of your father's capabilities."

"I wouldn't say 'familiar'," my father said with a dismissive wave of his hand, though I could see a hint of pride in his eyes. "But I am more than capable of holding a sword. Perhaps even more so than Lady Octavi."

"Well, that's wonderful news for you, isn't it, Aurelio?" I said, turning to my brother.

"YES!" he exclaimed, his face alight with pure joy. "Thank you, Sister Aurelia, for asking Father!"

"My, my," my mother said, her gaze now on me. "If Aurelio is so interested, is my Aurelia interested as well?"

"Lady Octavi did ask, Mother. She said she could teach me if I wished."

"Well, it would be fine for you to learn as well," my father suggested.

"NO!" Ophelia's voice, sharp and indignant, cut through the conversation. "Sister Aurelia is a lady! Why would she need to hold a sword?"

"It seems Ophelia is quite against the idea," my mother observed, her expression unreadable. "Why is that, my dear?"

"Because she is a lady!" Ophelia insisted, her cheeks flushed. "Her beauty would be wasted if she focused on swords instead of proper ladylike pursuits!"

"Your mother has held a sword," my father said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And she is great with it."

Ophelia's jaw dropped. "Is that true, Mother?"

"Yes, it is," Cordelia confirmed with a serene smile. "I began learning around your age."

"But why?"

"Hmm, how to put it..." my mother mused, her eyes darting towards my father. "Perhaps... to impress your father."

My father's face suddenly became very tense.

"To impress Father?" I asked, intrigued.

"Yes," she said, her smile widening. "To impress him. Isn't that right, dear?"

"Y-yes... that's right," he stammered, his usual composure completely gone.

My mother clapped her hands together lightly. "In fact, how about you start learning as well, Ophelia? You can learn from me. We can have a friendly competition to see who becomes the better swordswoman. What do you think, dear?" She turned to my father, her smile now laced with a cynical edge that made him nervous.

"Y-yes, a great idea, my dear," he stuttered. "But only if Ophelia agrees, of course."

"I will think about it, Father," Ophelia said, her expression thoughtful.

"Don't worry about being a proper lady, Ophelia," my mother reassured her. "I will teach you how to be both a lady and a warrior."

"Well, you two are certainly lucky," I said to the twins. "To be taught by your own mother and father."

Aurelio nodded enthusiastically, but Ophelia remained silent, lost in thought.

The rest of the dinner passed in a pleasant haze. When it was over, I was about to excuse myself when my mother caught my eye and beckoned me to follow her. She led me, with Adel trailing behind, to a warm lounge room furnished with soft sofas and a chaise lounge. A tea set and a plate of delicate cookies were already waiting on a small table.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about, Mother?" I asked as we sat down.

"Must a mother have a reason to have tea with her daughter?" she replied, though her eyes told a different story.

"If you say so," I said, taking a sip of the fragrant tea.

She watched me for a moment before sighing. "Honestly, Aurelia... I want to tell you about your fiancé."

I choked on my tea, sputtering. "WHAT?"

Adel was instantly at my side, rubbing at my face and dress with a handkerchief.

"Thank you, Adel. I'm sorry about that," I managed, my heart pounding.

"It's quite alright, Aurelia," my mother said calmly.

"So... what is this about a fiancé?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Well, since you have lost your memory, I thought it best to tell you now, so you are not caught off guard when you eventually meet him."

"So, I have a fiancé?" The words felt unreal.

"Yes, you do. It is quite normal for a girl of your background and age."

"Okay... who is he?"

"His name is Fabian Julius. He is two years older than you; he is sixteen this year."

"Have I... met him before?"

"Yes, many times. But it's alright that you don't remember."

"Do you want me to meet him? Perhaps it would help me remember something."

"No, no," she said quickly. "There is no intention of arranging a meeting just yet. I simply wanted you to be aware."

"Well... thank you for telling me, Mother."

"Of course. Now, tell me about your day."

I recounted my afternoon with Lady Octavi, telling her about the sword demonstration and the twins' amusing interruption. My mother listened with a happy, engaged expression, laughing at the parts she found particularly entertaining. When our tea time was over, Adel led me back to my room.

On the way, I asked her, "Adel, are you familiar with a sword?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Really? That's amazing. What do you think of me learning?"

"I think it would be a fine pursuit, my lady. Lady Octavi is an excellent swordswoman; she would be a great tutor."

"Perhaps I will ask her... And Adel, have you met my fiancé?"

"Yes, my lady."

"Can you tell me about him?"

"He is very handsome, my lady, and a fine match for you."

"Is that all?"

"I believe so, my lady."

Her answers were polite, but frustratingly vague. We reached my room, and Adel helped me change into my pyjamas. After she had drawn the curtains and bid me goodnight, I was left alone with my thoughts.

"A fiancé, huh?" I murmured to myself, turning onto my side. "How can I be engaged to someone I don't remember? I don't even remember my own mother." The thought was a dizzying spiral of confusion. "When will I remember anything? Or will I just have to live this life as a stranger, learning everything anew?" I closed my eyes, and eventually, sleep claimed me.

And with sleep, came the dream.

It began in a grand ballroom. I was wearing a beautiful white gown, and a man with blonde hair was by my side. I couldn't see his face; it was a blur, a featureless mask. We were dancing, twirling in the centre of the room under a massive crystal chandelier.

Then, he left me. Just like that, in the middle of the dance, he let go of my hand and walked away, chasing after a woman with fiery red hair. The music stopped. Everyone turned to stare at me, their faceless heads tilted in what felt like ridicule and scorn. I was alone, a spectacle of abandonment.

He and the red-haired woman approached me, their hands intertwined. A hot, unfamiliar anger surged through me. The woman held up their joined hands, a triumphant, cynical smile on her featureless face. They turned to leave, and for some reason, I chased after her, my hand outstretched to grab her hair.

But the floor vanished from beneath my feet. I was falling, endlessly, through a black, echoing void, the sound of laughter raining down on me from above.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I was on the ground, blood dripping from my forehead. My hands and feet were bound. The red-haired woman stood over me. She raised her right hand, her fingers spread, and then clenched them into a fist, a gesture of cruel, final victory. Two men appeared, and they forced me into a rough burlap sack. Before the darkness enveloped me, I saw the blonde-haired man and the red-haired woman, holding hands, watching.

Inside the sack, I was not alone. There was a serpent, a cock, a monkey, and a dog, all thrashing and fighting in the confined space. Their claws scratched me. Their teeth bit me. Their beaks pecked at me. The pain was excruciating. Then, I felt a lurch as the sack was lifted into the air, followed by a sudden, shocking plunge. Water flooded in, cold and suffocating. I was drowning.

I woke up screaming.

Adel was the first to arrive, her face a mask of alarm. I was sitting up in bed, wrapped in my blanket, my body trembling uncontrollably, my teeth chattering. She rushed to my side, trying to comfort me, but I couldn't hear her words over the roaring in my ears.

"What happened, my lady?"

I just shook my head, unable to speak.

"I will inform His Grace and Madam," she said, and then she was gone.

I sat there, lost in the lingering horror of the dream, until my mother's face appeared before me, her eyes wide with worry. I lifted my head and saw that my father and Sofia, the physician, were with her.

"My Aurelia! What is it? What made you scream so?" my mother cried, her voice filled with panic. "You're crying, darling," she said, her own voice thick with unshed tears. "Are you not aware?"

"Crying?" I touched my cheek and felt the wetness of tears. "It's true, I am crying." I looked at my mother and saw the glint of tears in her own eyes. "But you are crying too, Mother."

"Yes, we are," she said with a watery, sad giggle. "What a strange situation, is it not?"

My father placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Dear, let Sofia examine her first."

"Yes, of course," she said, wiping her eyes.

Sofia sat on the edge of the bed. "Hello, my lady. We meet again. Can you tell me what frightened you so?"

"I had a dream..." I began, my voice hoarse, and I recounted the entire, horrifying nightmare, from the ballroom to the drowning to the three worried faces gathered around my bed.