Everyone gets nightmares. I was always told they came from being confused. Our minds are unable to comprehend something. So when processing it our minds put us through hours of paralyzing hallucinations.

I get four hours of sleep. 

What seems like every five minutes I am slapped awake by terror after terror. My mind is playing out scenarios of gruesome violent deaths. Each time becoming more and more bloody. 

I lose track of how many times I see my grandmother die. 

Each time I am able to force myself back into reality where nothing but cold sweat and desperate lungs await me. Tears dried on my cheeks from the horrors before receive a fresh layer of saltwater and my body quakes with stifled cries. 

But each time my eyes open and a trapped shriek piercing the air, I am met with a cool room and a servant by my side. 

Not just any servant, my servant. Kennedy has a seemingly endless supply of cold towels to press against my forehead, cheeks, and neck. A fresh one meets my feverish skin whilst I blubber drowsy nonsense through a thick layer of tears. 

The nightmares plague me for hours. Until I am finally released into a fitful sleep but an empty mind. 

In the early hours of dawn, the sun comes up over the layer of frost. It shines through the sheer curtain pulled over the windows. My eyelids fight the layer of crusty tears left behind and open a slit.

Blinking hard I force them to become wider. Hardened residue falling to my pillow. I run my dry tongue over my sour-tasting teeth. I'm unable to produce saliva to soothe my cracked throat. 

Looking around my room I see Kennedy slouched in a wooden chair. I sit at the foot of my bed. Kennedy's head is titled back and their uniform looks disheveled. A surge of gratitude rushes through me knowing they stayed the night and even feel asleep making sure I was going to be alright. 

As I move to sit up the skin on my face stretches and feels as if it is bleeding. I raise a dry hand and rub it over my tired skin. Then back to the tangled mess that is my hair. Twisted into brittle knots from tossing and turning. 

Giving up on the futile attempts to smooth my hair out I swing my feet to floor the freezing marble making my toes curls and hissing breath come from between my teeth. 

Kennedy jolts awake, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor. They look around wildly inhaling sharply. 

"Emmalyne," they begin, their voice sounding strained. "What's happened? Do you need anything?"

Leaping to their feet Kenedy makes a weak attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in their shirt. 

Squeezing my eyes shut I shake my head to clear the fog. My thoughts are all jumbled and I need to think. 

"Shower," I murmur. "I need a shower."

"Right away," Kennedy nods rushing off to my bath chamber.

Pushing myself to my feet I pull on one of the silk robes.  The heel of my hand harbors the pieces of dead skin pulled off because of my fall that catch on the fibers of the robe. Making my hand sting and effectively tarnishing the sleeves. 

A list. I need a list. 

"Shower," I repeat creating my mental list. "Brush teeth, eat some food- wait, I need to get dressed after I brush my teeth. Brush my teeth, get dressed, get some food, then I'll probably have to go visit-"

"What was that?" Kennedys's head pokes out from the bathroom doorway.

"Nothing," I mutter waving my hand. "I was just talking to myself."

Nodding Kennedy disappears back behind the wall. 

As I tie the black cincture at my waist my fingers fumble with the knot in my fingers and it falls flat. 

The simple incovinence cause my throat to knot and a sob to well up inside of my chest. Sniffling I dab at the corners of my eyes with the tips of my fingers to keep tears from further damaging my already dangerously dehydrated skin. 

I hear the spattering of water from my bath chamber. I said I needed and shower but Kennedy overruled that notion and started a bath for me. 

Sometimes I swear Kennedy knows me better than I know myself. 

My limbs ache with every movement. My back twinges with each breath. Uncontrollable sobbing has control over the human body that I could have never previously fathomed. 

When I reach the bathroom the tub is already full, privy to the multiple taps spewing hot water. Kennedy has already added bubbles that smell strongly of mint and lavender. 

As I step closer to the bathtub Kennedy points at the floor near the foot of the tub. "Carful, some water spilled."

Nodding I step over the puddle and shed my robe. Turing my back to Kennedy I slip the straps of the sea-green slip I don't remember donning the night before off my shoulders. The satin of the slip easily falls off my body and drifts to the floor much as a feather would. 

I place on foot in the water before the sound of a frightened gasp and cracking glass echoes around me.

Spinning around I turn to see Kennedy laying facedown in the puddle of water. Springing into action I snath my robe from the floor and hastily drape it around myself. 

"Are you all right?" I cry falling to my knees and helping Kennedy to a sitting position. 

Kennedy nods and bringers their hand up to their mask. Where a large crack runs thought it. The white line running down the middle is cut off halfway up Kennedy's mask, leaving the bottom half black.

"I think it's broken," I whisper.

"You're right," Kennedy replies. Jumping out of my skin I scramble back. The voice adapter inside of the mask must be distorted because Kennedy's voice is deep and scratchy. 

"Do you need anything?" I as placing a hand on their shoulder. "That was a nasty fall."

"I should be-" Kennedy's voice is cut off and the sound of rushing liquid sounds from the mask.

"What's happening?' I question my eyes growing wide. "Kennedy, what's going on."

Kennedy says nothing. They bring their fingertips beneath their chin, swiping at the inner edge of the mask. The tips of their white gloves come away red.

My eyes bug out of their sockets. "You're hurt!" I take me out hand and place where Kennedy did, my palm comes away smeared with blood.

"I'm fine," Kennedy pushes me off. 

"You're bleeding!" I cry, my voice edging on hysterics. "You need to take your mask off, I need to help you."

"No!" Kennedy shouts. "I can't do that. That is the number one rule. I am not allowed to take off my mask."

"Please Kennedy!" I plead. "Let me help you." 

The blood has seeped down into Kennedy's shit. staining the white collar. 

"No!" Kennedy shouts. "I can't lose this job. This is all I have!"

"I'll protect you! Please! Take it off."

"I can't" Kennedy shakes their head. "I just can't-"

"TAKE IT OFF!" I screech. My entire body trembles as I stare at Kennedy. "Now."

Kennedy freezes and slowly nods. They place fingers beneath their chin and behind their left ear. There is a small synchronized click and Kennedy peels the thick mask off. 

Blood is dripping from both of Kennedy's nostrils and their right eyebrow is split open. I immediately grab a handful of grey towels. Pressing one to their eyebrow, Kennedy takes the other and holds it beneath their nose. 

Dabbing the cloth in the water from the tub I gently wipe away from blood from the right side of Kennedy's face. They pull down the black hood attached to the back of their head, revealing a head of flaming red hair, pulled into a tight braid at the back of Kennedy's head. 

My brow furrows with this new development. I continue to sop up the blood and Kennedy gets their nose to stop bleeding. As they clear the crimson liquid notice something striking. 

Kennedy is beautiful.

Then I notice another thing. 

Kennedy is a girl. 

I'm well aware of the fact that I shouldn't know these things. I shouldn't even be seeing her face.

Then, looking down at Kenney's discarded mask I see something I know I should never have laid eyes on. 

Across the top of the mask, word shines up in white blinking lights. A name. Kennedy's name. 

SASHA

My servant is a twenty-year-old woman named Sasha Kennedy, and she's beautiful.

Gasping I tear my eyes away from the mask and turn my attention back to Ken- Sasha's eyebrow. 

"What?" She askes her eyes flicking to me panicked. "What is it?"

"This-" My voice has grown hoarse and my mouth is dry all of the sudden. Clearing my throat. I check to see if the gash is still bleeding. "This is probably going to need stitches."

"Oh." Sasha nods. "Okay."

"I'll call for the physician," I say handing off the cloth to her and going to stand.

"No!" Sasha yells gripping my arm. "You can't."

"You're hurt," I say firmly. "As your future queen, it would be irresponsible of me to not provide you with the care you need."

"Don't get political with me," Sasha says. "There's a first aid kit in that cabinet."

She goes to stand but I push her shoulders down. "You've lost blood. Trying to stand is stupid. I'll get it."

I stand in the middle of the bathroom looking around at the plethora of cabinets that I know hold all of my products. I don't know which cabinet she was talking about. 

"Where would that be?" I ask looking back at Sasha.

Scoffing Sasha smiles at her lap. Lifting her arm she points to the bottom cabinet against my wall. "It's in the drawer on the far left pushed in the back. It's a white box."

Finding the first aid kit I hold it above my head triumphantly. "Found it."

Sasha nods and pulls the cloth away from her face, blood proceeds to fall into her eye. 

Sasha grimaces and mouths a swear word. 

"Does it hurt?' I ask sitting back on the floor. 

"Eyebrow cuts usually don't hurt," Sasha replies taking the box from me. "They just bleed like crazy."

"You look like your in pain," I say. 

"Blood and eyeballs don't usually mix." Sasha opened the box with one hand as the other is still applying pressure to her face. 

She rifles through the many bandages until she finds two slim white ones. Sahsa struggles to open the paper wrapping and when she begins to bring them to her teeth I stop her.

Taking the bandages from her I peel them open myself. "Let me help you."

Sahsa nods and dabs at her wound some more. "We have to wait for the bleeding to stop."

As she takes away the cloth once again I notice that the cut is no longer gushing red but merely dripping. 

Wiping away the excess blood Sasha looks at me. "Do it."

As I peel open the paper to the bandage labeled 'butterfly' Sasha stares at me. "You know how to apply a bandage right?"

"Yes, I know how to apply a bandage," I reply mimicking her tone. "It would do me a great service for you to shut up and let me help you." 

"I'm only saying I don't know exactly how much I trust your abilities as a healer," Sasha says defensively. As an afterthought, she adds, "All due respect."

"Haha," I laugh dryly, finally getting the release liner off of the bandage.

Taking the bloody cloth from her I dab at the wound with a clean corner. The split skin is white and dried blood clings to her eyebrow hairs. Swallowing my gag I examine the wound hoping that it's clean. 

Sasha's breathing slows as she watches me apprehensively. We are face to face, my eyes just above hers. She exhales a shaky breath and I look down at her lips. 

They're full and pink. Her entire face is littered with freckles and her eyes are green. Her teeth rake the bottom left corner as she waits for me to apply the bandage. 

"Are you going to fix it or what?" Sasha asks.

"Right! Sorry," I say snapping out of my trance.

Holding up to Shahs's cut she closes her right eyes, watching her with her left. "Pinch the skin together. Try and make it so it's touching." She instructs. "And do try to avoid my eyebrows, I'm rather attached to them and I would hate to see them go."

"You spend too much time with me," I mutter placing the first bandage and undoing the second one to secure the flaps of skin below her eyebrow. Once I finish I smile and say, "Done."

Standing Sasha walks to the mirror uneasy on her feet. Examining my handiwork her mouth turns to a line. "It'll have to do for now. Thank you, Emmalyne, but you should stick to being a princess." 

"Not like I'm preparing to run a kingdom or anything," I murmur. 

Smiling Sasha picks up her mask and frowns. "I'll have to get this fixed. Do you think you'll be okay on your own for the morning?"

Nodding I motion to my awaiting bath. "I'll be just fine."

Pulling her hood back over her head Shasha slowly walks backward from the room. Her eyes scanning the ceiling as she tries to think of something. 

"Oh," She says her eyes snapping down to me. "It's Monday. So you have breakfast with your family, will you be able to get ready on your own?"

"Of course," I nod. "I'll be just fine, you go."

"Okay," Sasha nods seeming almost anxious about leaving me alone. "I'll see you later."

"Wait!" I call after her. Stopping in her tracks Sasha looks back at me. "Aren't you going to be seen?"

"No," Sasha shakes her head. "I'll take the tunnels."

"Right," I say. "Good luck. I guess."

"Yeah," Sahsa replies breathlessly before walking out into my parlor.

Did she say tunnels?"

As I turn back around to face my bath I look down at my reflection in the water. The bubbles have disappeared from resting in the still water for too long.

My hair is sticking out at angles and my eyes remain puffy. I have no interest in seeing my family. I will no doubt be reprimanded for my ungraceful departure yesterday. 

Scoffing I swipe at my face in the water sending the surface into a flurry of chaotic ripples. Draining the tub I take a shower instead. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking through the palace feels strange without Kennedy. Or Sasha. I'm unsure of what to call her. 

I decided on a plum velvet dress. The dress is drawn in at the waist with a silver cord and the puffed sleeves are cinched at my wrists making me feel secure and protected inside of my clothing. The skirt is long and full. The T-cross heels on my feet are sturdy and good for running if I might need to. 

I wear three sliver chains around my neck, bracelets decorate my wrists, and my ears glitter with diamonds. I was able to braid my hair into a crown around my head and sweep warm-colored makeup across my face. 

Breakfast is in the dining hall this week. None of the elders have arrived, an extra chair has been added to the table. Presumably for Genie. The space belonging to my Grandmother is not set, leaving an empty space of wood. 

Every reminder of her is a punch in the gut. 

My siblings stand to the side conversing quietly. Bobby and Genie stand apart, having a conversation of their own. 

As I reach them Marcus pulls me into a tight hug. Accepting it gladly I'm able to focus solely on my brother in my arms. I've never needed and hug more. 

No amount of finery can hide our grief. Puffy eyes and permanent frowns shine off us all. Juliet has started crying. I embrace her tightly and do my best to not start crying myself. 

"I'm sorry," David whispers when we embrace. "I know how close you are to her."

That brings me the closest to breaking. I ruffle his hair in thanks. Biting my lip to keep the tears away. 

A pair of servants open the doors and my parents walk in. "Go sit down," I whisper dusting off David and Juliet's shoulders. 

Sloan squeezes my hand before we peel off to take our seats.

Tucking myself into my chair my father takes his place at the head of the table. I sit to his right. Not soon after my grandfather sits across from me. An eerie silence fills the chamber as servants apper with trays of food and pitchers of drink. 

Picking up the glass mug to my left I hold it out by my shoulder and the servant quickly grabs it and supplies me with my normal coffee order. Milk and six sugars with ice. When a different servant goes to serve me toast I hold my hand up, a singnal to leave my plate empty. 

"How is she?" My mother finally asks. 

"A doctor came by last night. The sickness is in her lungs. He said she has six months." My grandfather answers.

"There isn't a cure," I say. "Is there?"

My grandfather shakes his. "No. It's fatal."

"We'll see about that," I mutter. "I want the best doctors from every region brought over to examine her."

"No," my grandfather says. "I've already tried, they came up with nothing. Kelly decided long ago that she would not spend her final days being poked and prodded with a needle. That is not how she wants to go."

"She's not even going to fight?" I demand. 

"She's tired of fighting!" My grandfather slams his fist on the table. "We both are. Born into a war we gave everything to end. We had to fight for every law, every piece of land, for the peace. Your grandmother has fought for everything you have. She's done. So am I."

"You're a coward." I hiss. "You may have given up on your wife but I'm not about to give up on my grandmother. I love her! I'm not going to lose her!"

"You forget your place." My grandfather spits. "Who are you to speak to me in such a way?"

"A fighter." I sneer. 

Pushing out from the table I begin to walk from the room. 

"Emmalyne!" My father shouts after me. "You have not been excused."

"I excused myself!" I reply not even stopping to look back.

Resisting the urge to flip off my grandfather as the door slams behind me is more difficult than all of my work combined.

I take walk around the palace to cool off. I'm not quite ready to confine myself to my room. I run my fingers along the walls and stop to admire the vases of flowers that someone's sole purpose is arranging. 

Things I've never even considered doing before.

By the time I reach my own room I have blown off enough steam and anger at my family that the knowledge of Kennedy's identity rushes back to me. 

Like hitting a wall the breath is knocked out of me. Kennedy is a Sasha. Sasha is a girl. Sasha is a girl who is my servant. A girl's whos lips I couldn't stop staring at. A girl who's been there for me when no one else was. 

"Have mercy on me," I whisper before opening my door.

My chambers seem empty. Walking to the windows I throw open the curtains and look out at the frozen estate. Seizing the balcony doorknobs I throw and doors oven and let a wave of freezing air wash over me. 

My skin prickles and my ears go cold but for the first time all morning, I feel awake. As I exhale my breath comes out in a cloud. Icy air fills up my lungs giving me a sense of cleansing.

My serene moment is interrupted by the sound of clattering plastic and the word, "FUCK!" being shrieked. 

Abandoning my balcony I hurry to the bathroom. Opening the door I find Sasha in a white tank top standing at the sink with the first aid kit and it's contents littered around her feet. In her hand, she holds a silver needle and a piece of black thread holds her eyebrow cut together. 

"Are you insane?" I yell.

Sasha jolts where she stands and states at me her eyes wide. "Why aren't you at breakfast?"

"I got mad and stormed out," I say quickly. "Why are you sewing your face?"

"I went to the servant's physician, but he was really backed up, so I took the stuff I needed and I came up here. Stitches aren't that hard." She explains while cutting the excess thread away. "I'll be fine. I just didn't have any numbing so it hurt like a bitch- I mean it hurts bad."

"Are you not allowed to cuss in front of us?" I ask crossing my arms. 

Sasha shakes her head. 

Stepping closer I take a moment to peer at her handiwork. "It won't get infected will it?"

"You know, Princess," Sasha smirks as she sweeps up the spilled contents of the first aid kit. "you seem to care an awful lot about me."

My stomach twists. "Do I?" My voice comes out high and squeaky, my hands begin to clam. 

After dumping the bandages back into the plastic container Sasha looks up at me, her mouth twists into something unreadable and her eyebrows come together. A blush creeps up on my cheeks and I turn away. 

I hear her put away the first aid kit slowly. I can't bear to look at her.

How could I have let this happen?

Sasha remains silent as she pulls on the shirt to her uniform. My stomach churns and the threat of vomit looms.

"I can file for a new servant," I say finally. 

"But I don't-"

"I'll make sure you have a good job. A better one!" I say keeping my back turned. I walk out and into my study to find the right papers. 

I hear Sasha run after me. My vision blurs as tears gather at the bottom of my eyes. I can't see the papers I'm grabbing as I flick through my multiple piles. 

"Emmalyne, it doesn't-"

Cutting her off again sob forces its way through my lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for all this. I can have you transferred in the morning. It will be easy. I won't tell anyone. This never happened."

"Emmalyne, stop!"

Sasha's hand grips my forearm. I look up at her. Pieces of her hair are falling out of her braid the curls frame her face just as much as concern litters it. 

"Stop," she whispers.

A single tear falls from each of my eyes rolling down the sides of my face. My shoulders shake as I swallow a sob, Sasha still holds my arm forcing us to maintain eye contact.

"I don't want to leave." She says firmly. "I want to stay with you."

Before I know what I'm doing I smash my lips to hers. Startling her enough to drop my arm. My eyes are squeezed shut and I don't move as I feel Sasha tense beneath me. But she doesn't pull away. 

She grabs my cheek and kisses me. Everything inside of me goes hot and runny. Each place my skin touches hers is like an entry point inside of me sending a furry of hot shivers straight to my spine. 

All I can feel is her hand on my cheek, her chest against mine, her arm snaking around my back. My hand in her hair, my nose against hers, my toes straining to keep me at the same height as her. 

Every part of me is consumed by Sasha. Colors flash across my eyelids when I feel her breathe into my mouth. 

Kissing Sasha is like feeling everything and nothing at the same time. 

But in a startling slice Sahsa pulls away from me. Cutting me off. 

"Wait," Sasha says breathlessly. "If we're going to do, whatever this is I need you to promise me something."

"What?" I reply. I do my best to listen but I'm still looking at her lips and the pigment that has rubbed from mine to hers.

"I can't be arrested." She whispers. "If anyone finds out about us they can't take me to the Exile."

She asks the impossible. Looking up at her eyes my chest throbs. My lungs are still robbed of air each word I speak comes out in a breathless whisper. "I can't promise you that."

Her voice matches mine when she whispers. "Then lie to me."

So I lie. 

END OF BOOK ONE