Chapter 6

Naomi tried to take stock of her situation. She was in the middle of some uber-renaissance festival. That was the only rational explanation, except it didn’t explain the two moons floating in the sky. And it didn’t explain the man in the mask demanding to know whether she would marry him or die.

What in the world had she gotten herself into? What world indeed, her thoughts repeated with an unhinged twitter. She paced away from the window as her mind tried to push away the idea, but when she turned to pace back, she saw the window sitting before her and the ugly ruddy moon visible. Naomi quietly began to freak out.

The very idea was impossible, improbable, impracticable, impermissible, and any other words that began with ‘im’ that meant this COULD NOT BE HAPPENING. She could not have somehow gone to another planet. Maybe her apartment had imploded, she was in a coma, and her imagination was creating all of this. Naomi pinched herself to test her theory. She felt the pinch, but she refused to accept the tactile evidence. She looked back up into the sky and placed her fingers around the view of the ruddy moon and closed her fingers, pinching the image, but when she moved her hand, the lopsided moon still hung in the sky. This couldn’t be real, she kept repeating to herself. None of this could be real.

There was a soft tap at the door. Naomi wrenched her eyes from the sky and looked at it. It was gently pushed open, and a stout middle-aged woman wearing an apron looked around its edge at her. She gave Naomi an unsure smile. Naomi blinked back at her. Seeming to take Naomi’s blank expression as welcome, the woman pushed the door open and carried in a large platter. The woman went to a small table, and Naomi followed her. She took a seat and stared at the unknown woman. Her eyes imploring the silent woman to turn and fix all her problems. This was just a big joke, right? She was about to be told she was on hidden camera. The woman didn’t look at her. She set a plate before Naomi.

Naomi swallowed and hunched forward. “Please, help me."

The woman's eyes flicked for a second to her but returned to the tray. The glance was the tension around the eyes showed pity was there. Maybe she could help Naomi. Maybe not solve all her problems, but help her in some small way...

"I'm not Lady Alyssa. My name's Naomi Taylor, and I shouldn't be here. I don't know what happened, but I'm here by accident. Please help me.”

The old woman continued to putter with tray. “You can weave whatever tales you want. You will not be freed.”

Naomi's frustration made her spring up. “But I’m not her!” Tears began to run down her cheeks. “I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how I got here, and I just want to go home!”

The serving woman turned away.

Naomi grabbed her arm. “There has to be someone here who knew this Lady Alyssa! Find them and bring them. They’ll tell you I’m not her!”

“Any servant still in the castle will, of course, agree with you and claim you aren’t Lady Alyssa to assist you in an escape. It’s not going to happen, girl.” She removed Naomi's hand and walked over to the wardrobe.

Naomi flopped back into the chair. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to hold back her sobs. Her brain was a maelstrom of confusion and anxiety. Questions flashed in her mind like lightning, but there was no answering thunder.

“Milady, you should eat. You’ll need all the strength you can muster for the upcoming events.”

Naomi blinked dumbly at her. The woman indicated the food and drink before her. Naomi glanced at the plate: Cut fruit, little bites of meat, and a slice of bread. The thought of eating made her stomach churn. Naomi turned her eyes away and found her head unconsciously turning to the window, seeking out the two moons again. They weren't helping her. Every time she looked at them, they gave her a nasty start and her heart stuttered in her chest. Naomi turned to the woman.

“What’s your name?”

The woman turned from the wardrobe. “My name is Yula. I am a cook for Lord Tavik.” She gave a slight curtsy.

“Where am I?” Naomi asked.

Yula’s looked puzzled and glanced around the room. “Isn’t this your chamber?”

Naomi flicked her eyes around the room and turned them back to Yula. “No, this isn’t my room.”

“Would you like to be moved to your room?”

Naomi slumped in her chair. “I don’t live in this castle. I’m not who you think I am. I’m a US citizen.”

Yula’s eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. “You can lie all you want. It won’t change anything, but it would make Lord Tavik angry, and he isn’t someone to make angry.”

“Who--The scary guy in the mask?”

Yula nodded. “Yes, the ‘scary guy in the mask’. He holds your fate in his hands. I suggest you be careful around him.”

“I need to get out of here.”

“Impossible. The castle is full of Lord Tavik’s men. They will capture you and take you back to him if you try to flee and that will make Lord Tavik mad.” Naomi turned away. Impossible. She was beginning to really hate 'im' words.

Continue to Chapter 7