The next morning I awoke to sunlight pouring through the drapes I’d forgotten to close. I watched the rays streak through the window, particles of dust getting trapped inside, spinning in slow circles like eddies in a creek. Pulling puffy blankets up to my face, I snuggled into the mass of pillows and linens further, perfectly content to spend a while watching the light show.
As I lay there, I came to a few conclusions about my memory loss. It didn’t seem to affect my baser knowledge, I could still walk and talk and I had a fairly extensive vocabulary. I knew what horses and dresses and mountains and trees were. I knew everything I’d ever known except for things that were specific to where I’d come from, like people and objects and experiences. I didn’t know what exactly those things were and that was a little disconcerting when I thought about it, but for the most part, I didn’t…think about it that is. I may not have thought about where I’d come from again at all if Nikolas hadn’t mentioned it to me a few days before. But now, these missing memories hung around on the outskirts of my consciousness, floating about like apparitions that you could feel but not see. I didn’t care for the sensation, so I tried to push it all away, deeper inside my mind.
Rapping at my door drug me from my spot on the bed. This was the morning of the ball and that made me even more nervous than usual at the thought of who could be the hand responsible for the knock. Running to gilded mirror in my washroom, I checked my reflection quickly after throwing on the pale blue robe I’d grown quite fond of. It was the perfect thing if I needed to look presentable…or at least presentablish in a limited space of time.
The knock came again, this time a little more urgent, so I tossed my hair over my shoulders and scurried to the door. Cracking it open, I found a footman standing expectantly in the hallway with a raised silver platter containing a piece of folded parchment. Nodding formally, he spoke. “A letter for you, Princess.” It was all so official.
I couldn’t be sure, but this felt like a new experience to me. I eyed the letter suspiciously, probably looking like I though it may bite me, for a few moments before snatching it up. “Thank you.” I blurted as the footman began nodding formally again, but I was already closing the door.
I held my breath…literally…hoping while trying to convince myself that I wasn’t, that maybe this was a communication from Nikolas. Once I was seated safely on my bed, I unfolded the parchment carefully.
Elegant script flowed across the paper in deep black ink. My eyes immediately found the place where the writer had signed their name.
It was Liam.
I let out the breath I’d been holding. Inhaling slowly, I flopped back onto the billowy mess that sat on my bed and held the letter above my face in my outstretched arms as I read.
Dani,
Please forgive my cruelty, for I am foolish man. I cannot imagine you should want to be seen with me, but if by chance you can forgive me, I shall make you proud, I shall make myself worthy. I swear it.
Your Knight,
Liam
I starred at the words on the page. I thought of Nikolas and quickly pushed the thought aside. He didn’t matter, he didn’t figure into this equation…or at the very least, that’s what I would tell myself.
Pulling myself up, I crossed to the writing desk. Dipping the quill in the black ink pot, I scribbled out my own reply on the thick yellowed paper sitting empty on the desk.