She stared at her quzically, almost like she could see her. Although Belladonna was sure she couldn't. She had been in this nightmare long enough to know that the Bride Thief was making a deliberare effort to make this illusion different in order to fool her into believing what she had just witnessed was some form of past.
As if.
He wouldn't let such a thing as an illusion seeing her, slip pass him. That would make his whole efforts go to waste. Besides, he was the one controlling them.
"Who are you?"
Belladonna looked behind her, the door was only a few steps away from where she was standing and she wondered who had come in.
But where had expected to see a figure, there was an empty space. The door didn't even seem like one that had been touched.
When she turned back again, the fake Kestra was still staring at her, now with anger in her eyes.
Like she could see-- oh goodness, she could see her!
"Bride Thief?" She whispered. "What is going on?"
"I-- it's a minor issue."
"What?"
"A clash. I guess. It's not supposed to happen. I'll fix it. I'll fix it."
The swing of the dagger that moved quickly through the air, and dug itself right above her shoulder, with only thin air and the robe she had on, saving her skin, made her jump.
With a trembling voice, words poured out of her mouth. "You said..."
"Just shut up so I can think."
"You shut up. You're not the one hanging on the wall by a dagger." It was even more difficult to half snap, half whisper when her body seemed to be locked in one position, when she could feel the coldness of the wall behind her.
The coldness she wasn't supposed to feel!
Fake Kestra pushed out of the embrace of fake Eli who was now looking at her, with a face.
The face she knew him with, red and silver scales trailing along his cheek.
"Quit taking to yourself and tell me who you are." The red thing on her head started glowing, even now that she was paying attention to it, she couldn't see what it entailed.
"Or else..." Fake Eli added, his voice devoid of the care and love she had always heard from it.
There was no farmilarity or kindness from their demeanour.
These people didn't know her.
Without even attempting to pull on her nighrobe, or rip it out from the dagger that had dug it into the wall, Belladonna ran, rushing through the door in her underwear.
Never had she ran faster in her whole life, with so much little clothing. A shame, she had only worn that robe once.
The steps that rushed behind were gaining up on her quickly, taking her mind from the robe, while reminding her of the extent of trouble she might have just found herself in. As she sprinted, her fingers clutched around her necklace that was once again burning slightly against her chest.
She was passing by too many doors, running up the stairs, believing that running downstairs, and running into any more people would only make things worse.
"Get me out of here, Alaris!"
The voice that spoke beside her seemed to be moving at the same pace, but there was a particular ease to it that didn't feel like he wasn't struggling as she was.
"I'm trying."
It only enraged her even more, her legs threatening to give way as she ran up the nearest stairs.
I'm trying? What does that even mean? He shouldn't be trying, he should be in control!
She took a turn, hearing the echos that followed right after.
They weren't hers.
"Something might have gone off."
"I don't care, just get me out of here."
"I can't, Nightshade. It's not working."
She didn't hide or filter her rage this time.
"What is this?! Some twisted plan you have? Do you get high on letting your illusions kill someone? Does it give you more power? Is that how.you survive?" Her lips trembled as she forced herself not to cry, the tears welling up in her eyes sting nevertheless.
"Get me out of here, you bastard!"
I can't, okay!" The voice boomed and she caught the fear that laced it. "I'm just as trapped as you are."
___
After a couple of knocks, Raquel pushed her key in the door lock and pushed the door open.
Her Mistress was probably too engrossed in the work that she was doing, being bent over the machine, working tiredlessly, that she hadn't heard the knock.
But when Raquel got into, it was quiet.
The almost silent sound of the machine she had come to associate with her early morning visits to her Mistress wasn't present, neither was the dim flicking light from the lantern along with the morning sun peeking in from the raised curtains.
In fact, her Mistress wasn't by the table at all. Her Mistress was in bed, sleeping soundly with the sheets drawn to her stomach. A small piece of green cloth was wrapped around her chest.
It was surprising that she wasn't in a robe. It was a cold morning and she might catch a cold.
Putting the basket to one side, Raquel walked closer to the bed, her face creased into a little frown as she watched small beads of sweat form on her face, while contemplating on what to do.
Raquel had half the mind to wake her up, she knew her Lady wouldn't like to still be in bed by this time, but she stopped herself midway.
Her Lady needed rest.
She needed all the rest she could get today. As for the market, they would still sell. She would go to the King and collect back all the sweaters he had bought when they first started this business.
Without the logo of her Mistress on the sweaters, it had not made much sales at the market. In fact, on the first day, it had made no sales. The King had come across her on the hallway struggling with the basket, and had asked what it was all about. She had told him everything, concerning the sweaters of course, nothing about her daughter and the reason she suspected her mistress was putting herself through stress. The King would not like it. Then he had bought everything and ordered for it to be taken to his chambers.
Raquel didn't like going to the King. He terrified her, made feel uneasy. She would tell Colin to do it. Colin was just as afraid of the King, but he somehow always found his way around things.
With a gentle click, she shut the door and left.