Sleep Is For The Weak, That Means I Need It

I couldn't get rid of the things Tifia had given me, but I was eager to put on a clean shirt. Meanwhile, the doctor Michael had sent over also stopped by. She said my ankle wasn't in terrible shape, but that since I'd been constantly on the move since I injured it, it didn't guarantee a full recovery. She muttered something under her breath when she learned that someone named Hans had previously tended to me, and I had the impression she'd used a bit more force than necessary. I didn't want to say anything, but I guess she didn't have the warmest memories of him.

The servant who was supposed to take me to the dining room for dinner with the king returned. Once again, I was led so intricately that I would have had to have lived here for years to move freely. I think everyone subconsciously felt I was an outsider, which is why they treated me with such reserve, especially since I clearly enjoyed some favor with the king for which they couldn't find a logical reason. The table was lavishly set, but I knew I was being watched, so I didn't even sit down, waiting for Michael. When he arrived, I bowed and only after his permission sat down.

"I've told them so many times not to overdo it," he muttered, looking around at the multitude of dishes. "We can't eat this, just the two of us. We're not alone, but Gregory never lets himself be persuaded to sit down."

"An excellent joke, Your Majesty." The aforementioned butler suddenly emerged from the shadows with a jug from which he poured wine into our glasses.

The king looked at me expressively, and I nodded, understanding what he was trying to convey. Despite everything, everyone was alert, and I should have listened to every word. I felt a little sorry for him, especially when I realized how pleased he was to be able to behave freely around me. Although I was hungry, I didn't feel like eating; I worried whether Renet had also received a decent meal. I knew he was technically a prisoner, and deep down, I really wanted to get him out, but I couldn't take action while the feeling of being cheated still dominated me. We had to talk it out… A heavy sigh, burdened with longing, escaped my chest. Michael looked at me, concerned.

"Is there something wrong with the food?"

"No, it's not delicious, it's just…" I paused for a moment. "I remembered someone I haven't seen in a while."

"I understand. I'm sure he's fine."

"How's your arm, Your Highness?" I changed the subject. It seemed to me that a conversation at the table would seem more natural than sitting in silence.

"It's nothing. It's not worth worrying about, and it won't stop me from participating in the battle anyway." He smiled at me, and I smiled back, but there was no positive feeling in the gesture.

After that statement, however, I had no desire to continue the conversation. I'd rather not continue this topic. I was afraid it would immediately become obvious that I wasn't as excited about the upcoming events as the others. After all, I was glad to return to my room and finally lie down. At first, I couldn't fall asleep and tossed and turned, but after a while, the comfort was so great that it easily merged with my exhaustion.

I felt myself relaxing at some point, but I could only owe it to a pleasant dream. I opened my eyes, and beside me lay a smiling, healthy Renet, who slipped his hand into mine. He did hide his appearance. I reached out my other hand to run my hand through his green hair, and although it gave me a false sense of happiness, I knew something was wrong. Even here, I had imagined him in human form, because I still couldn't accept the fact that he wasn't like me. My heart ached, and guilt attacked me. Renet became worried and asked me if everything was alright. I couldn't stand it. I wanted to pull away, but he held my hand so tightly it hurt. Suddenly, his expression changed; rage took over him, demanding to know why I'd abandoned him.

I felt like someone was calling my name somewhere far away, something began to shake me, and finally I woke up drenched in sweat. Michael was standing over me with a lamp and a worried expression on his face. I sat up and tried to regain my composure. I don't know why, but I looked at the bed, as if searching for confirmation that this wasn't just a dream, but of course I found nothing.

"Nightmare?"

"Yes," I confirmed and stood up. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking you on a trip to the vault." Michael seemed excited and started urging me to leave.

At first, I wanted to complain about whether he really had to take me somewhere in the middle of the night, but I realized he probably had no other choice. I followed him obediently down the stairs, betting he was leading me to some basement. My suspicions soon proved correct.

The lamp was handed over to me so that Michael could deal with a complex locking system protecting the entrance from unauthorized visitors. Of course, I was pleased to be granted this honor, but after a moment, fear gripped me. What if I trusted the king too soon? Maybe he'd kill me here and make it look like he'd caught me stealing so he could have an excuse to go to war sooner. Did he believe I was the princess's spy? But surely he hadn't killed Renet right away. Could he have lied or tried to exploit him later? My thoughts raced so wildly that I couldn't focus on any of them. The scenarios I'd quickly created jumbled in my mind, creating a story that made no logical sense, and this only intensified my fear.

I walked through the thick metal door, fearful and utterly stunned. It took a long time for my eyes to adjust to the new room and the light from the lamp. My heart pounded in my chest as if it were about to burst. I feared another panic attack in this world, simultaneously cursing myself again as I moved for my gullibility and stupidity. I jumped when Michael placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently.

"What do you think?"

Suddenly, the room lit up, torches dotted evenly on the walls and rows of columns. I took a deep breath, wondering if it was possible I was looking at objects so familiar. I no longer felt panic; I wanted to trust the king because I needed it, as well as knowing where I actually was and what it all meant.

"Ready for a quick history lesson?"