I awoke sometime later, lying on a single-sized mattress, on the bottom bunk of a small cabin. I’m naked underneath a warm blanket. There’s a short, lilac-skinned woman my age, sitting near me, reading a book. She brushes a strand of her short yellow hair out of her auburn eyes.

  As I prop myself up with a pillow, she lowers her book to look at me, her cheeks growing a deeper shade of purple as she does. Noticing where her gaze is fixed, I quickly cover my exposed chest with the blanket.

  “M’lady,” her voice halting, gentle, and musical.

  “Please, call me JayMay,” I assure her in a kind voice. Dad never went for subservience in his workers, but I’ve been to enough five-star hotels to know what it’s like. “What’s your name?”

  “You can call me Miss Portia, or,” more shyly, “Gl-Gloria.” She’s cute, and her interest would be flattering if it weren’t for the circumstances.

  “Gloria, nice to meet you. Could you get me some clothes, please?”

  “Oh, certainly, M’lady,” she hurries out of the room, and I lean back against the pillow, trying to relax.

  My heart leaps up into my throat when I realize the last time I’d been in bed, Rich had…

  I jump out of bed and start to restlessly pace the room, hoping that the movement will help exorcise the lingering sensation of hands around my neck.

  Gloria walks in and squeals. Yeah, I suppose if she’d blushed over a pair of tits, my walking around bare-ass naked would be way too much.

  Strangely, her embarrassment was a nice distraction.

  “Gloria, how on Earth have you made it this far as a lady’s maid if you’re so freaked out by nudity?” I ask without covering myself.

  “I’m used to nudity, M’lady. It’s just your skin… I-it’s so pale, pink and…” Her eyes dart every which way to avoid looking at me.

  Another time, another place, I might have made a move, but the distraction isn’t working. I cast a glance towards my clothes in her hands.

  “I’m so sorry, I meant to give them to you. Freshly laundered! Shall I help you dress, M’lady?” she asks, eyes sparkling a little too hopefully.

  “No need. But, Gloria, how’d they have time to clean these? Have I been asleep that long?” It didn’t feel like I’d slept more than half an hour.

  “It’s been two days. You’re still on the yacht because Her Highness didn’t want to risk waking you in the move.”

  Two days? If I’d been here this long and hadn’t snapped back to the real world, then I must really be dead.

  Dead, the word rings hollowly in my heart.

  “Is there anything else I can get you?” Gloria asks, not quite knowing where to look.

  “Could you let the princess know that I’m awake? I’d like to see her,” I say as I pull up my panties and grab my shorts.

  “Oh, yes, M’lady - certainly, my lady!” It’s strange how she can curtsy, blush, and retreat all at the same time.

  Her cute puppy energy was out of place and annoying, given my circumstances, but I miss it as soon as I’m alone with my thoughts again. I finish dressing in a sullen silence.

  An hour later, and I’m being guided by Gloria off the yacht to the royal dining hall.

  Sitting at the head of a large dining hall is a medium-height, heavyset, balding man in his 40s rocking a long, well-trimmed mustache. He’s got skin so dark purple that it’s almost black. He’s wearing golden breeches, a shirt unbuttoned to his navel, a silver crown, and a warm smile.

  And this was the guy who would’ve been shocked by my swearing?! A side character from Night at the Roxbury?

  On his right sits a tall, thin, lighter-skinned woman, also wearing a crown, with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her navy clothes are far more modest, and her face far less readable.

  On his left, it’s Tanza, dressed in an elegant yet revealing crushed velvet gown, with several artfully cut holes that show off her body. Seems she gets her poise from her mom and her style from her dad.

  All three rise to their feet as I enter.

  I’d joined Dad in various business talks, so I know how to be on my best behavior around important people. Also, I’ve had practice keeping my personal life outside the boardroom, so I swallow once, bury my trauma, and smile and bow to Tanza and her royal ‘rents.

  “Your majesties, it is my honor,” I say.

  “I’ve never been bowed to by a dragon before!” He laughs heartily. “Please, sit,” he beckons to an open chair next to his daughter’s.

  “First off, the Queen and I must thank you for saving dear Tanza’s life! When I heard what the Baron tried,” his red eyes temporarily darken. “But, he didn’t get away with it, thanks to you!”

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  “Indeed, we are ever in your debt,” the Queen adds, speaking for the first time, in a voice so similar to her daughter’s I could have mistaken them for each other on the phone.

  “Please, I’m just happy I could help. So, Gloria mentioned something about a dinner?” I asked, more as a way of redirecting the conversation away from praise than any real desire for food.

  “Yes, of course!” The King clapped twice, and a parade of servants arrived with platters heaped high with food.

  The cheese had been amazing, so I’m sure the food was delicious, but as the plate of grey braised meat and neon-colored vegetables was placed in front of me, my stomach sank at the thought of having to eat it all. I’m the opposite of those people who eat when they’re sad.

  I bite into the meat, and it tastes as bland as white bread. I chew and chew, while the King starts to talk about the security he’s added to the yacht. I nod when I’m supposed to, but the words blend, becoming little more than a dull roar of sound.

  The food’s tasteless textures, and the words were meaningless sounds. Every time I swallow a bite, the sensation in my throat reminds me of Rich’s hands.

  I’m mashing a piece of vegetable with my fork when the Queen’s voice pulls me from my reverie. “You’re not from this world, are you, JayMay?”

  Huh? How did the conversation turn to this? Was the Queen doing a wild steer, or had I really zoned out?

  “Me? No, no I’m not. My world is… Well, I’m not going back there anytime soon, if ever,” I keep my voice light, but suspect some of the heaviness has crept into it. If it has, the King doesn’t notice.

  “Well, then, you should stay here!” The King bellows happily, in between bites of meat. “Tanza’s taken a liking to you, and we have plenty of lovely rooms. Yes, I think it will do quite well!”

  There’s something about the eagerness of his response that makes me realize that the whole point of this dinner was to get to this question. I’m not sure if it’s because they want me as a dragon protector for their daughter, to take out this Baron guy, or something else, but I don’t really care. It’s not like I’m overflowing with options.

  “That sounds nice, thank you, your highness,” I dab my mouth with a silk napkin, place it beside my plate, and bow my head.

  “Your highness, phah! It was cute at first, but enough with all this formality - we’re friends now, practically family! Call me Jett, and my wife’s Gemma. Of course, in public, there’s social etiquette to follow, but when it’s just us,” he says, seemingly unaware of the dozen servers that fill the room.

  “That’s very kind of you, Jett,” I say, keeping my voice bland yet kind.

  “Mom? Dad? JayMay’s had a trying day, perhaps I could show her to her room, now?” Tanza, who has kept silent most of the evening, cuts in.

  “Of course! Of course!” King Jett assures.

  In my heart, I’m jumping for joy at the prospect of alone time, but outwardly, I’m all apologies and regret.

  ***

  “I apologize for my dad, I’m afraid that he’s a bit of a character,” Tanza’s voice sounds genuinely concerned as she guides me through the castle’s maze of corridors.

  “No, he’s nice,” I assure her, but my tone is listless. She seems to take the hint that I don’t want to talk because we walk the rest of the way to my room in silence.

  “Here it is,” Tanza presses a button, and the metal door slides open, like something in a sci-fi show. There’s so much medieval flair in the castle, it’s easy to forget that this astral world is a blend of technologies.

  The room I walk into? It’s palatial in size. Tall ceilings, the classic canopied bed, luxurious chairs, a couch, my own dining table, a full-length mirror, a desk, and another makeup mirror; it’s fully equipped. An attached bathroom, closet, and study. It’s got more square footage than most of my friends’ houses back in Clear Water.

  I try to be impressed by the size and scope of the room, but my awe is all surface-level. My heart’s not in it.

  Tanza looks expectantly at me, squeezing her hands together nervously as she waits for a response.

  “This is nice, thank you,” I say, and I mean it, but there’s a hollowness in my answer.

  “JayMay, I’m sorry to ask, but… You’re acting differently than before. I know, we didn’t talk for long, and we don’t really know each other, but… You were so playful when I first met you. Now you seem,” she takes a deep breath, screwing up the courage to say it. “You seem sad now. Are you okay?” She closes the distance between us and places a comforting hand on my right shoulder. The casual intimacy of the act, it reminds me of Tiff’s hand, trying to calm me in the car the night of the crash.

  I can’t help it, the next thing I know, I’m cradled in her arms, crying my eyes out as she gently strokes my hair. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze tight. Holding her as if she’s the last lifeboat on a sinking ship.

  I stare at her through the tears. I reach up and caress her cheek softly. The purple skin, so firm but soft. Her red eyes, an explosion of conflicting metaphor; burning yet soothing, alien yet intimate, humble yet regal…

  I pull her face close. My lips latch onto hers, and we’re locked together in a kiss. Her hands no longer passively embrace me, but now caress my back. The fire between us blazes into an open fire.

  She places one hand on my cheek and the other on my neck, kissing harder and harder as if trying to consume my pain.

  I want this. Oh God, how I want this! But, as her hands brush against my neck, it all comes crashing down.

  Rich’s iron grip.

  It’s all I can see.

  I push her away with a frightening yelp. I throw myself down, face-first on the bed, my body heaving with sobs, and my eyes burning from the tears.

  Eventually, the wave of pain and loss crests, the sobs subside, and I turn back towards the princess, who is now sitting silently, helplessly, next to me on the bed

  “Tanza, I’m so sorry, it’s not you,” I pray she’ll forgive me.

  “I understand, JayMay, I really do,” she sighs. “It may have been your playful spirit that first drew me to you, but...”

  “But?” I ask in a child’s voice, timid and small.

  “But… Whatever you’re going through, whatever has hurt you, that pain is another facet of you. And it,” she pauses, unsure if she should say it. I nod encouragingly, leaning close to her. “It makes you even more beautiful,” she whispers. We just shared a passionate embrace, but her tone of voice is as shy as an untouched maiden’s.

  Embarrassed, she quickly stands and kisses me on the top of my head. The warmth of her lips lingers.

  She cradles my head against her belly. We stay that way, motionless and raw, for a while. Eventually, she kisses me a final time and releases my head. I stare up at her. She takes a sharp intake of breath, her face tightens, and I can see vulnerability replaced by strength and resolve. The frightened girl has put back on the mask of a wise princess.

  “If you need time, take it. You’ve been strong. Don’t worry about Kings or Barons, or even princesses. Cry when you need to cry, laugh when you’re ready to laugh, let yourself be and feel it all, holding nothing back. When you need me, I’ll come, but until you call… I’ll keep my distance.”

  “Th-thank you…” I whisper, burying my face in my hands, trying fruitlessly to hold myself back from another round of tears.

  I hear the click of the door closing behind her, and I’m alone. I climb, fully dressed, under the covers, hug the pillow with my whole body, and pray for sleep to take me. Maybe in sleep, I’ll find some peace.