THE KING'S POSSESSION

Chapter 85

Chapter 85: Dawn





The day Isabel's eyes fluttered open turned out to only be a mere reflex rather than true consciousness. For a few days, her body remained in a state of suspended animation, her mind drifting between the veil of unconsciousness and the haze of awakening. And so she remained in the healer's hut.

Until the day finally came for her to awaken. Isabel's eyelids trembled and slowly opened.

At first, her vision was a swirl of blurred colors and shapes. But then the grandeur of her surroundings gradually came into focus: walls adorned with rich tapestries, golden accents gleaming in the light, and intricate designs that spoke of wealth and power. As Isabel's senses sharpened, a wave of panic swept over her. The realization of her unfamiliar surroundings hit her like a thunderclap.

In her frantic state, she attempted to move, only to be seized by a sharp, searing pain. Her breath caught in her throat, and she clenched her teeth against the discomfort as a low groan escaped her lips.

"You shouldn't have moved," a calm, composed voice floated from the corner of the room, carrying a tone of mild reproach. The voice was smooth and authoritative, cutting through Isabel's panic like a balm.

Isabel almost immediately tried to turn her head, eager to see who had spoken, but the pain reminded her of her limitations. The sound of heels clicking on the marbled floor grew louder. Isabel's heart raced, and she struggled to focus through the haze of pain and confusion.

As the footsteps drew nearer, Isabel's eyes finally locked onto the figure emerging from the far corner. Her breath hitched once more, but this time in shock and awe. The woman approaching her was a mirror image of herself—striking blue eyes, a complexion as fair as freshly fallen snow, and light golden hair cascading in waves, just as Isabel's own. The resemblance was uncanny, almost surreal.

Isabel's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. The sight of this woman—her doppelgänger, standing before her—was both mesmerizing and unsettling. The room's grandeur seemed to fade into the background as Isabel's focus remained locked on the person who seemed to embody her own reflection, yet held an air of authority and elegance that she couldn't ignore.

The woman's gaze was steady, and her presence commanded the room with a quiet dignity. Isabel's mind raced with questions and confusion as she lay there, grappling with the reality of her situation and the startling likeness of the woman before her.

"Wh-who are you?" Isabel stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper. The woman chuckled softly, a light, melodic sound that contrasted with the tension in the room. She reached out and gently placed a hand on Isabel's forehead, causing Isabel to flinch instinctively. Yet, the touch was unexpectedly soothing—gentle and warm, like a comforting touch of the breeze that eased some of the fear and confusion swirling in Isabel's mind.

"It seems your fever has gone down, my dear," the woman remarked with a tender smile. She withdrew her hand and gracefully settled into the chair beside Isabel's bed, her movements elegant and poised. Isabel could see a softness in the woman's eyes, a look of genuine concern that was almost disarming.

"How are you feeling?" the woman asked, her voice filled with sincere care. The question, simple yet loaded with compassion, made Isabel's heart ache with a strange familiarity. The warmth in the woman's demeanor felt like something Isabel had been longing for, a distant echo of a comfort she couldn't quite place.

Isabel blinked, as she took a moment to gather her thoughts, trying to make sense of her situation. "I... I'm feeling very sore," she replied, her voice tentative. "But mostly confused. Where am I? And who are you?"

The woman continued to smile warmly, her eyes never leaving Isabel's face. "You're in the Imperial Palace," she explained gently. "This is a safe place, where you can recover from your injuries." She paused, as if choosing her next words carefully. "As for who I am... My name is Ilyana. I'm the Empress of this land."

Isabel's eyes widened slightly in realization. "The Empress?" she echoed in fear, understanding she was in the presence of someone far more influential and powerful than Lucian. Panic set in, and out of instinct, she instantly bowed her head, hoping to humble herself before the ruler of the lands.

"I... I apologize for my insolence, Your Grace! I-I mean, Your... Excellency..." Isabel stuttered, unsure of the proper form of address as her voice trembled anxiously.

The Empress who noticed Isabel's fear and confusion, gently reached out to lift Isabel's chin, encouraging her to meet her eyes. "There's no need for such formality, dear," she said softly, her tone soothing and kind. "You are a guest here, and you are safe. Please, be at ease."

Isabel hesitated, still overwhelmed by the presence of the Empress, but she took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. "Thank you, Your... Excellency," she managed, still unsure but grateful for the Empress's kindness.

Isabel's hands fidgeted nervously on the bed as her gaze flitted around the room before settling on the Empress. Despite the woman's kind demeanor, Isabel's confusion and anxiety were obvious. The Empress, noticing her unease, offered a reassuring smile and a light-hearted chuckle. "Please, call me Ilyana. Titles can be such a burden sometimes, don't you think?"

Isabel's eyes widened at the informal suggestion, her lips parting slightly in surprise. "I-I don't know if I can... Your Majesty," she stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the familiarity.

Ilyana chuckled again, her laughter soft and melodic. "Well, we'll work on that," she said, her tone teasing but gentle. "For now, just breathe. You're safe here, and there's no need to worry about protocol."

Isabel nodded hesitantly, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. The Empress's easygoing nature was unexpectedly calming, like a warm breeze after a storm. But Isabel couldn't shake the question that had been gnawing at her since she woke up. She bit her lip, gathering her courage, before finally voicing her concern.

"But... Your Majesty... if the villagers found me... why am I here?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and curiosity. She looked at Ilyana, seeking answers to the puzzle of her circumstances.

The Empress's expression softened, and she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Ah, the villagers," she began, a wistful note in her voice. "They did find you, yes. You were quite the mystery to them, appearing out of nowhere, wounded and unconscious. They brought you to the healer, and that was when word reached me."

Isabel frowned slightly, still puzzled. "But how did they know how to reach you?"

Ilyana smiled as a knowing glint appeared in her blue eyes. "They did not. Let's just say that the empire has many ears and eyes, especially when something... or someone... of great interest is found," she explained, her tone light but with an underlying seriousness. "Your appearance caused quite a stir, and it wasn't long before the news reached my court."

Isabel blinked, still trying to piece everything together. "But why bring me here? I'm no one special," she murmured, more to herself than to the Empress.

The Empress leaned forward with an earnest expression on her face. "You may think that, but the circumstances of your arrival were... unusual, to say the least. And then, there is your resemblance to certain... family members," she hinted, her voice gentle but probing.

Isabel's heart skipped a beat. She had always been aware of her distinct appearance compared to the villagers she had grown up with, but hearing the Empress herself remark on it was unsettling. She had never questioned her mother about their differences, assuming she had inherited her looks from the father she had never known. The mention of family stirred emotions within her. She swallowed hard as her mouth suddenly felt dry before she whispered, "Family members? I knew my family."

"Hm. Might be," Ilyana replied, her voice curious but kind. "Can you tell me your mother's name?" she asked politely with her usual gentle tone.

"Her name is Teressa." Isabel answered.

At the mention of the name, Ilyana flinched. Her eyes widened with a shock that seemed almost knowing, as if she had expected the answer but needed to hear it from Isabel herself.