A Dance in the Dark (Book 1)

Chapter 15

In your nightmares.

That phrase echoed in her brain for the last of the night until she woke up the next day with sunlight on her face again.

With her eyes still closed, she searched for her phone on the bedside table but found nothing. She tapped her hand around. Since when was the bed that big? And where's the fucking table? Rosé opened her eyes gradually, realising that she was almost at the edge of the bed and was not in her room on the university campus.

"Right," realisation hit her.

She sat up.

The room was huge, different from what she remembered in the dark. It was warm and cosy. It was modern, considering they built it inside a palace. The vast windows followed the old style, extending most of the wall at her right side. She could see the training camp from the thin curtains.

There was a heather honey scent in the air.

She closed her eyes, burying her face in her hands. Everything she had heard the day before—Ari, Aiden, Dandara, Gustav—was real. It wasn't a nightmare.

Where are you?

In your nightmares.

Was that a nightmare?

Rosé tried to get out of bed. Her muscles protested with each twitch. Even the gentlest touch sent ripples of agony through her body. Rosé moaned in pain but managed to get out of bed, touching the fluffy floor.

She was wearing a baby blue plaid pyjama, wondering if she was exhausted enough not to remember changing clothes. Rosé found her new phone on the bedside table. It was five-thirty, and a message saying her breakfast would be delivered at seven popped up on the screen.

Rosé threw her phone on the bed, trying to assimilate every information she received yesterday. Her mother was not Helena, and the idea of magic was the two pieces of information that kept shining in her head.

She grabbed her phone looking for Helena's number, but it was not there, but her father's number was.

Tom.

Her finger trembled over the green icon. Did her father know she was there? Was he there? Instead, she turned off the screen and threw her phone back on the bed.

In front of the windows was a large, white vanity desk. All her products, which were once in her old room, were now perfectly arranged on the dressing table, including her makeup and brushes.

All were separate and well organised on the drawers.

Heading to the immense wardrobe, leaning against the wall opposite the bed, Rosé opened the door. To her surprise, all her clothes were there, folded and separated by types and colours, even her panties. Rosé blush. Who had put their hands on my panties? Despite having many laces and acceptable panties, she still had panties from years ago that were comfortable with holes in some places.

She had never bothered to get rid of them before.

At that moment, she began to reconsider.

The bedroom had two doors. One was closed, which Rosé deduced was the door leading to the hallway, and the other was ajar next to the bed.

Upon entering the room, Rosé found a reasonably large bathroom. There was a bathtub with a shower, toilet, and a huge sink, where, once again, several of her products were tidy.

Rosé did not remember bathing or brushing her teeth the day before, which made her feel disgusted with herself, especially when she looked in the huge mirror on the wall.