Crossing Paths

17

*Above is Celaena's gown for the day's events.*

Dorian's POV
Smelling thick, scorching fire I shot straight up. Throwing the blankets off of me, I looked down.
Specks of jagged ice lay by my feet, on the mattress of my bed. My legs and half of my torso look to be as if dusted with snow.
It was a dream. Looking to my numb feet, I scrambled out of bed. I fell to the floor with a thud, screaming as I did so, having my servant start to unlock the door frantically.
In a second, my hand shot out and a gust of wind made my blanket flap back correctly onto my bed, over the evidence I try desperately to hide.
"Your Highness!" Dimitri came stumbling in."Is everything alright?"

I breathed in heavily, my heart racing. I waited for the look of shock, the look of complete disgust, before he ran to tell The King that his son is a magic wielder.
"Sir?" He walked over to me, concerned.
"You are sweating." He looks alarmed. "Have you run a fever?" His young eyes prodded me, offering a hand for me to stand.
Sweating? How am I- finally glancing down, my stomach is devoured by sweat. Was I panicking enough to melt the ice clean off me? Being confused to say the least, I gripped his hand as he helped me onto my feet.
Dimitri is about a year younger than me, give or take, his soft features giving the hint. With his shaggy brown hair and dimpled smile anyone with eyes can tell he is is worth looking at.
Even if I'm fond of his presence, why did he come? Not that his company isn't welcome, but where are the guards? Dimitri is a rather inexperienced servant, and I've only gotten him recently because Celaena told me to. Or suggested, rather. She said even if I didn't need anyone, to have someone at hand. You'll never know what kind of danger you'll encounter. She is right, of course, and I am grateful.
And for this reason exactly. I do not think I would have been able to stand on my own at the moment.

"They're patrolling the halls. As it is the Royal Ceremony today." He read the question in my eyes.
"All of them?"
He nodded, ushering me toward the bathing room.
"They just left. Miss Lillian is already up, and you don't want to arrive after your fiancé, would you?" He smiled, and closed the door after I entered. Chuckling to myself, I began getting ready for my...my engagement.

Now a bit too nervous to move, I swallow. Staring at my reflection, healthy and...damn perfect, I feel overwhelmed. I do not think I look perfect, let alone am, but with being the prince since birth, I know that's what everybody sees: A boy who barely at nineteen has the world at his fingertips, has the power of prosperity. And yet, that is all I hope for my life. For it to prosper. How is that possible when I am going to marry an assassin who I now consider a friend, in love with a boy who is also of royalty, and has to do whatever possible to keep anyone else from finding out about my ability?
Taking a deep breath to steady my heightened nerves, "I am Dorian Havilliard, and I am responsible for my future."
The words have to be spoken. If not, I know, all this nonsense in my head will fade away. I will not be able to think for myself. If I say it-to hear with my own ears the determination in my tone-it will seem as if it can become a reality once thought impossible.
"I control my life." I spoke louder, meeting my own gaze that stared back at me. I appear tired but with a faint glow surrounding my irises, I can pass for alive. For actually being present.
When I'd much rather grasp Maven's hand and run. Just run. But I cannot do that, can I?
"My future is not destined." I bit out, suddenly feeling anger for everything all at once.
Ripping away my gaze, I began undressing. Taking everything off so I'd get into the bath that much quicker. So I won't feel dirty with every step I take. Hopefully.
After I am through, who knows what will happen?

Because even if you plan your future, who's to say it won't come crumbling down?