1001

The Wrong Side of the Bed

Dochia closed the door to her chamber and locked it with the bolt.

"Tonight is the night" she thought, as her smile revealed no small excitement.

She did everything right.

She had bathed in the first dew gathered by Baba Voica from untouched sanziene. Voica knew the twisted paths through the forest that guaranteed no soul would see her carrying the enchanted water. Should anyone see her, the magic would lose its power.

Dochia stopped for a moment. Magic or holly? The church turned a blind eye over the widespread yellow flowers as it celebrated the birth of Saint John, the one who would reveal Christ. She had taken part in the mass that morning and prayed God to bless the coming night.

She untied the leather straps holding the mail coif, pulled it from her head and arranged it on the armor rack. She avoided the mirror since she hated the sight of the black mask on her face.

She took off the rest of the mail armor, the padded gambeson and shook her hair until it fell down, long on her shoulders.

Only then she turned around and watched the mirror.

She touched her lips with her hands, and her mouth curved up remembering Niklaus' kiss. "Beautiful" he said as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

She had watched the celebrations of "Sancta Diana" from the excellent vantage point offered by the battlements. The sight was good indeed as it made her long to change her armors for the white dress and the yellow "Lady's Bedstraw" circlets.

Knights didn't shed their armors to frolic on yellow covered fields of Sanziene while weaving them in circlets for their loved ones.

Tonight, under the guarding light of the moon, she would lay down in the hidden glade, by the spring, and dream of her intended. A dream involving a certain raven-haired knight whose kiss stole her senses.

She drew her arms through the sleeves of the airy dress woven in white silk and tightened the wire of the circlet holding the magic of the yellow flowers. She slithered through the secret door of her chamber, floating through the dark corridors to the horse waiting for her outside.

And if anyone took notice of the white shadow flying in the night, dark curls floating in the wind, it would only be better for him to turn his head to ward off the ire of the Sanziene.

She found the wide boulder in the glade and smoothed the thick cloak over it.

"It would keep the wild animals away." Baba Voica said.

She stretched on the boulder and watched the moon eager to see her dreams blessed. The gentle breeze caressed her with the touch of a mother while the spring sang her to sleep.

As the night flew on its dark winds, sweat trickled on Dochia's face while she tossed and turned.

Red fire surrounded her. However it wasn't searing but warm and inviting as it lingered on her neck. It then trembled and took the form of a man. It wasn't Niklaus.

"Niklaus, come and save me." she wailed.

Niklaus stood in the distance, and extended his hand. She struggled to reach it against the strong but comforting hold the red mist had on her. Her resolve was dwindling, and she turned as wonder and frustration warred within her.

Then Niklaus withdrew his hand, shook his head and said as he left.

"The wrong side of the bed, such a pity."

She flailed her hands and struggled again to no avail.

"I am the White Knight's bastard and his blood honors me." she yelled after him as he shrunk and disappeared into the dark.

"Easy, lass." she heard and her eyes flicked open.

She let a piercing cry as she looked in horror at the burly man with scraggly red beard and equally crimson hair holding down her shoulders.

She had seen him before, and she recoiled as she asked herself how much had he heard.

The nightmare was real.