Bride of Adron | ✓

Chapter 2 - Awakening

Noelle found herself regaining consciousness to a bright light shining in her face, almost blinding her. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter in an attempt to block out the red obscuring her vision, and rolled over with a grunt. Only then, did she peel open her eyes.

The room she rested in was different from her own, she noticed. Instantly Noelle shot up in the bed, flinging the covers off of her only body only to be hit with a rush of cold air. The red room was alien to her, so much more expensive and decorated than her small yet cosy bedroom back in London. She was sitting in a king-sized bed, with a wooden bed stand next to it, a large yellow lamp placed on top of it. Upon closer inspection, Noelle saw it was carved out by hand. The whole place itself looked like a royal bedroom, with a tall ceiling, fancy wallpapers, and valuable furniture. The room was clean and tidy, fit for a queen.

However, Noelle ignored this, instead jumping from the bed and lunging for the door. She gripped the handle and tried to pull, but it would not budge. She tried to push, but it would not move either. The door was locked.

Her panic and despair steadily rising, Noelle fought to take great gulps of air and calm herself down.

Think!

"Right Ellie, calm down, just think." For some reason, her sister's affectionate nickname for her was a source of comfort. "Where... where am I?"

Looking around with a clear head, Noelle found she could suddenly see much more. There was a window to her right, which she made her way to. It was also locked, but she could get a view of her surroundings. She was in a castle tower, many metres off of the ground. Noelle gulped at the deep drop.

"Alright, so we are eliminating that plan," she joked, but there was no joy in her words.

She tried to shift her head to see more, and perhaps spot a person so she could call for rescue... but to no avail. There was not a soul in sight. Her heartbeat raising again, she tried to push out the intrusive, dreadful thoughts.

Behind her, the door opened. Noelle spun around faster than lightning, only to come face to face with two tall, dark guards. They eyed her with no mercy, before grabbing her arms and hauling her out of the room while she screamed.

"No! Help! Where are you taking me?" Noelle pleaded, desperately looking up at the men. They never met her eye, only taking her further down the hallway to her doom. Tears of fear filled her eyes, but Noelle refused to let them see her cry.

She was thrown into a grand dungeon - no, a throne room - and braced her hands and knees on a black carpet. Noelle looked along it until she reached the very end, where a golden throne with silver details was placed. On the throne was a cold man, no feature of emotion on his face, dressed in royal garments. A golden crown with rubies, diamonds, and emeralds sat snugly upon his head. He had a dark brown beard, resting on his light pecan brown face.

When the King spoke, his voice boomed across the room, assaulting any ears it reached.

"Are you sure this is her?" he asked, his stare piercing into poor Noelle.

"Name," commanded one of the guys behind her as he shoved his knee into her back.

"Noelle," she whispered, her terrified eyes refusing to meet the King's.

"She says her name is Noelle," the guard stated in a loud clear voice. There was a moment of silence.

"No...Elle," the King repeated, trying out the name for himself. "A peculiar name, where are you from?"

"L-London, sir," said Noelle, louder this time. Finally, she looked up to stare at the man who brought her. "Why am I here?"

The King laughed, the sound dark and menacing. The guards behind her joined in, and red heat burned in Noelle's face. She felt they were mocking her.