Chapter 5 The Dream That wasn't Mine

Sofia’s presence was a calming foundation in the darkness of my lingering fear. She sat on the edge of my bed, her expression a mask of professional concern, while my parents stood watch like anxious eyes.

"So," she began, her voice gentle but firm, "can you tell me what made you scream, my lady?"

"I was scared," I whispered, the words feeling inadequate.

"Scared of what?"

"I had a dream…"

"A dream?" she prompted. "Would you be willing to tell us about it?"

"It started in a ballroom…" I recounted the entire, horrifying nightmare, my voice trembling as I described the faceless figures, the sudden betrayal, the red-haired woman, the claustrophobic terror of the sack, and the final, cold shock of drowning. My mother flinched at the description of the animals, her hand flying to her mouth, while my father’s expression grew darker with every word.

When I finished, the room was silent for a long moment. Sofia was the first to speak, her tone analytical. "That is a remarkably detailed dream, my lady. You said all the people were faceless?"

"Yes, all of them."

"And you felt a surge of anger towards the woman, for no reason you could identify?"

"Yes, it was sudden… overwhelming."

"The man left you in the middle of the dance?"

"He did."

"Hmm," she murmured, her brow furrowed in thought. "And did you feel the physical sensations in the dream? The pain?"

"I felt everything," I confirmed, a shiver running down my spine at the memory.

"Did you have a dream the night before last?"

"The night before?"

"Yes, after we first introduced ourselves."

"No, I don't think so. I don't remember any dreams from that night."

"And did anything of note happen yesterday?"

"No, nothing in particular."

Sofia leaned back, her expression deeply troubled. "My lady, dreams are a complex tapestry, constructed from the threads of our lives. They can spring from our memories. Our daily experiences. Our fears. Our hopes. But for you to have a dream of this nature… it is highly unusual."

"What do you mean?" my mother asked, her voice tight with anxiety.

"With all due respect, Madam," Sofia said, turning to my parents, "Lady Aurelia has, for all intents and purposes, only two days of memories. A dream of this complexity, filled with such specific and violent imagery, should be impossible. It contains a narrative, a sense of betrayal, and a history of conflict that simply does not exist in her conscious mind. The question we must ask is not what the dream means, but where it came from."

"So, it's impossible for me to have a dream?" I asked, a new wave of confusion washing over me.

"Not impossible, my lady, but a dream like this one is," Sofia clarified. "Let's consider a simple example. Can you tell me one thing that happened yesterday?"

"One thing… Aurelio was amazed by Lady Octavi's sword demonstration."

"Excellent. Your memory of the event is clear. Now, a typical dream might take that memory and twist it. Perhaps you would dream that Aurelio and Lady Octavi were duelling, or that Aurelio was accidentally hurt. The dream would be a reflection of your own emotions and your protectiveness of your brother, perhaps. But your nightmare… it has no connection to your current reality. It is a story from a life you have not lived."

"So, from your hypothesis, this dream is not from her own mind?" my father interjected, his voice grave.

"That is my conclusion, Your Grace. The dream is far too specific and too detailed to have been generated by her own limited experiences and psychological state."

"Then do you know why I had it?" I asked, a desperate edge to my voice.

"About that…" Sofia hesitated, her gaze flickering towards my parents. They exchanged a look, a silent communication that I was not privy to. I could feel it then, a wall of secrecy being erected around me. "For now, my lady," she said, turning back to me, her professional mask firmly in place, "the most important thing is for you to rest. Do not dwell on the dream. Overthinking it will only increase the chances of it recurring. Just rest." She stood, bowed, and left the room.

"It will be alright, Aurelia," my father said, though his voice lacked conviction.

My mother stroked my hair, her touch a gentle comfort. "Just take a rest, darling," she whispered, kissing my forehead. "Don't overthink it. Everything will be alright."

My father turned to Adel, who had been standing silently by the door. "You may sleep in the adjacent room. It has been prepared. That way, you will be close if anything happens."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Goodnight, Aurelia," they said in unison, and then they were gone, leaving me alone in the vast, silent room.

I tried to sleep, but Sofia's words replayed in my mind. A story from a life you have not lived. If the dream wasn't from my memories, then whose was it? Who were the blonde man and the red-haired woman? And why did I feel such a deep, burning grudge against them?

Suddenly, I heard a muffled shout from behind the door. It was my father's voice, laced with an anger I had not heard before. He was arguing with my mother and Sofia. Their words were indistinct, but the tone was one of fear and urgency. They were discussing my condition, and they were hiding something from me. I pulled the covers over my head, trying to block out the sound, and eventually, exhaustion claimed me.

The next thing I knew, my vision was filled with a bright, red light. Adel had drawn the curtains, and the morning sun was flooding the room.

"Good morning, my lady," she said as she helped me sit up.

"Good morning," I replied, my voice still thick with sleep.

"Did you have a good night's sleep?"

"I just closed my eyes, and then it was morning."

"So, the dream did not return?"

"No, it didn't."

"That is good news, my lady."

"Yes, it is," I said, a thought striking me. "Last night, after my parents left, I heard shouting outside my door. Were they arguing?"

Adel’s expression remained placid. "I do not recall His Grace and Madam speaking in the hallway, my lady."

"That's strange. I was sure I heard them."

"Perhaps it was your imagination, my lady. Now, shall we prepare for the day? Breakfast is waiting."

"Yes… you need to transform me again, don't you?"

"It is not a transformation, my lady," she said as she led me to the dressing table. "It is simply… enhancing your natural beauty."

"Right, right," I murmured, sinking into the chair.

After the lengthy process of being made up and dressed, I found myself staring at my reflection. "I still can't believe this is my life now," I said, more to myself than to Adel.

"It is your duty to be beautiful, my lady," she replied simply. "And it is my duty to maintain it."

We made our way to the dining room. My parents were already there, their faces etched with a subtle tension that hadn't been there the day before. The twins arrived shortly after, but their usual boisterous energy was gone, replaced by a quiet, watchful demeanor. They took their seats without their usual playful arguments, their eyes darting between me and our parents.

"How are you, Aurelia?" my father asked, his voice a little too loud in the quiet room.

"I am fine, Father."

"Did you sleep well?" my mother added, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"Yes, Mother. After I spoke with Sofia, the dream did not return."

"I am relieved to hear that," she said. "If you ever have a nightmare that feels so real again, you must tell us."

"I will, Mother."

The twins were unusually quiet, picking at their food. I saw Aurelio glance at me, a worried frown on his small face.

"Sister Aurelia," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Are you really alright?"

"I am, Aurelio," I said, offering him a reassuring smile.

"You screamed last night," Ophelia added, her voice equally soft. "We heard you."

The admission hung in the air, a stark reminder of the night's terror. My parents exchanged an uneasy look.

"Your sister just had a bad dream," my mother said, her tone gentle but firm. "She is fine now."

But the twins were not so easily placated. They left their seats and came to my side, their small hands resting on my arms.

"If you have another bad dream, you can call for us," Aurelio said, his blue eyes earnest.

"Yes," Ophelia agreed. "We will protect you."

Their simple, heartfelt offer was a stark contrast to the complex, hidden fears of the adults. I felt a warmth spread through my chest, a genuine connection to these two small children who claimed to be my siblings. "Thank you," I said, my voice thick with an emotion I couldn't name. "I will."

The rest of the breakfast passed in a quiet, subdued atmosphere, the usual lighthearted banter replaced by a shared, unspoken concern. It was a strange and unsettling start to a strange and unsettling new life.