Separate Crowns of One Heart

Ėıghtėėn

"Cyrah!" I sit bolt up in bed at the sound of my name being screamed. I glance around in the dark, my heart racing a mile a minute. I'm about to lay my head back down, ready to write off what I heard as a figment of my imagination when I hear a groan coming from the floor. "Cyrah."

Slowly, I lean over the edge of the bed to see what is going and I'm shocked to find the Prince lying on the floor until I realize this is his chambers and I never left after all the films we watched. "Your Highness?" He's panting in his sleep now as if he's been running.

"No." His voice is weak and injured and I don't know what is wrong but suddenly the marking on my wrist begins glowing and I'm overcome with an overwhelming amount of fear and... something else. Something that hurts almost as much as my heart did the moon Micah walked away from me.

I almost stubble to the floor in my hurry to get off the bed and switch on the light. When I do, I see the Prince is all tangled up in the sheets and blanket he was using as if he's been tossing and turn the whole moon. I move the sheets away from his body and attempt to shake him awake. "Your Highness?"

"No. No..." he clings to my arms with desperation. "Cyrah..."

"Your Highness, you're dreaming," I tell him, shaking him more vigorously now, wanting more than to make whatever is happening stop. "Wake up."

His eyes fly open, the gold of his irises glowing the same why my bonding tattoo had just a moment ago. His chest rises and falls as he pants, his sweaty body causing his clothes to stick to him. His eyes bounce around the room as he comes back to reality and finally they land on me.

"Cy...Cyrah."

"I'm here. I am right here." Wrapping him in my arms, I cradle his head against my body. He clutches my nightgown in his fists, his breathing still jagged but gradually easing, along with my own. "It was just a dream."

I hold him for some time until he seems calm and i do not feel any more terror from him or myself. Once he's regained control of himself, he pushes away from me and pulls the elastic on his wrist to secure his locs into a knot. I sit there, waiting for him to speak-- to explain what just happened.

I wait and he just sits there, staring ahead. More time passes by with the two of sitting in absolute silence. He does not seem to have any intention of speaking so I decide that I will be the one to break the silence.

"Y-your Highness--"

"Please don't." His voice is hoarse, void of his usual confidence. The fragility of his tone is almost scarier than the sound of his screams.

I stand up and walk to the bedside table where a pitcher of water and a glass sit. I fill the glass with water and walk it back to him. He does not take it when I offer it to him so I place it on the floor beside him.

"Would you please talk to me?" I ask after some time of him staring off into a void that only he can see. It's unsettling seeing him so... unsettled. "I felt your fear. I know how scared you were and—"

"You know nothing," he scoffs, callously.

So this is how he wants to do it? "Fine. But at least explain to me why you are waking up in the middle of the moon screaming my name." The muscles in his jaw visibly tense up and his eyebrows lower further over his eyes, but he did not speak. "What happened? What were you dreaming about?"

At last, he turns his gaze onto me. "Just as you wish to keep certain information to yourself, I wish to do the same." Calmly now, he takes the glass and downs the water. "I apologize for waking you. It won't happen again."

That's it? "Your Highness—"

"Cyrah, please." Our eyes meet and his normally bright eyes of fresh honey are muddled with a storm, making them appear darker in color.