Instead, she was in a cell-like little room with a window the size of a piece of paper high on the wall. In what little light came in from the window, Prince started awake and looked around wildly to figure out what had woken him.

Was I… just in his dream?, Em wondered as she watched.

She caught onto what happened about three seconds before he did.

The servant who’d so rudely thrown a pile of clothes in Prince’s face, loomed over the boy with a sneer.

“The Mistress wants you in an hour,” he told the boy coldly. “Sit up and let me see your back.”

Slowly, Prince complied.

He kept his jaw tightly clenched as he gingerly turned on the bed and picked up the pile of clothes.

The servant grunted and began muttering under his breath as he pulled out a silver ointment container.

“This is stupid. First she whips the creature nearly to death, then she wants this. Is she trying to kill it? What a waste of money to kill your new pet right away.”

Em clenched her fists.

Him not it, she corrected furiously as the man opened the little container. Stop treating Prince like he’s a bug!

“Hold still,” the servant snapped.

It took only a second of rubbing in the ointment for Prince to gasp. His flesh flinched under the man’s touch and he instinctively tried to pull away.

“I said don’t move! Don’t make me pin you, you little brat!”

What the heck?!

Em moved to get a closer look.

It wasn’t as thorough or as quick as a mage’s infusion, but the ointment was making Prince’s scabby wounds close up sluggishly. Em looked at the ointment thoughtfully.

It must’ve been some sort of healing cream.

By the time the servant was satisfied that Prince’s wounds were closed up and out of danger of opening, Prince was hunched over and hugging the clothes.

Trembling involuntarily.

“Get up, rinse off, and get dressed.” The servant pocketed the ointment. “Don’t keep the Mistress waiting.”

The door slammed.

Em glared at it. Wishing she could throw something.

Then she heard the sniffles.

For an instant, all she could do was watch Prince sniffle and rock. Clutching the pile of clothes like it was a teddy bear.

At the end of the day, Prince was still just a boy. At fifteen, he was rapidly growing into a man. But, still…

If she’d just been Emmaline, she wouldn’t have been able to fully empathize with him. Up to this point, Emmaline had experienced nothing worse than neglect.

But Em was different.

Em sat on the edge of the bed and put out a hand she could feel but couldn’t see. Holding it over his head and frustrated she couldn’t actually touch him.

Em… was different.

And watching Prince’s quiet suffering brought back memories she’d rather forget. But if she could tell them to Prince, maybe it would have helped? Since this was a dream, maybe she was supposed to comfort herself by comforting him?

Yes, that sounds like a dream thing to do.

She told him, quietly, about her mother. And the woman’s boyfriends.

Mom had her moments. Sometimes she was sweet and loving. Other times Em hid under the bed while waiting for the storm to pass. 

But the boyfriends…

Most of them had ignored Em’s existence. Some… had not.

In fact, the day Maddie came to get her, Maddie walked in on the newest boyfriend knocking Em into a cupboard. Because Em wouldn’t cooperate with what he was doing.

She'd just gotten away with her shirt torn and then re-caught as Maddie barged in the back door.

Maddie flew into a rage.

If that man had dared called the police, Maddie might have ended up in jail while they sorted out if it was self defense or not. At the very least, he had gone to the hospital with a few broken ribs, a broken nose, and scratches wherever Maddie could dig her fingernails in.

Em also told Prince about the three years she'd been sick.

It wasn’t unusual for her to put on a brave face all day… only to cry herself to sleep.

As she talked, Em kept glancing at Prince’s back.

There were still some scabbing but most of the sores were finally gone.

His nerves must be seriously raw, she thought sympathetically as she took her hand off his head and put it on his back.

I wish I could…

Her thoughts paused.

Nothing else had worked. But everything she’d tried to do so far had been physical. She couldn’t touch, taste, smell, or even see her own hand.

Mana wasn’t physical.

It was like lightning and could affect whatever it touched. But until it touched, it was just energy in the air.

Why not? After all, she had tried everything else.

She closed her eyes and pictured a golden thread sinking into the boy’s back. Spreading out like a warm, comforting, blanket…

The boy moved so fast that he’d fallen off the bed and was scooting away on his butt before she got her eyes open.

What the heck just happened?! Did he really just fall off the bed?

Bewildered, she watched his face as his eyes whipped around the room.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!”

“Wait, you felt me?” she asked. Delighted. Then frowned as she watched his eyes continue to dart around. “Nope. Still can’t see or hear me.”

She bit her lip then hesitantly held out a hand.

She’d practiced nothing but the most basic magic. Infusion, where one pulled mana out of themselves and put it into something else. So when she attempted a flame, nothing happened.

Alright, that wasn’t going to work.

But, there was nothing in this room that could hold an infusion!

Except for his body, of course.

Cautiously, she approached. There was no sign he could see her, so she relaxed and knelt next to him.

With his back mostly healed, and pressed up to the door, she had to find something else. Something he could see. Though he seemed to sense her mana just fine, she was stubbornly convinced seeing would be important here.

There was a small scrape on his wrist. That’ll do.

She touched it, connecting the golden thread.

He snatched his hand away, and they both watched the scrape completely vanish. Without pain or fuss.

“Who are you?” he breathed. “Are you an angel?”

Me? An angel?

Em tilted her invisible head and patted his hair.

That was silly!

She blinked and was staring at the pulpit of the Temple’s common room. Where today’s priest was droning on and on about some virtue. No, not some virtue. Some vice.

Pride. And going to hell.

Em almost snorted aloud. What a difference from the speech the Princes had listened to! 

Then her half awake attention turned to Tracy as the maid gently shook her shoulder again.

“Miss, wake up.”

“I’m awake,” Em whispered. Then yawned.

Tracy nodded and went back to watching the priest.

Em blinked away the dream and didn’t pay attention to the sermon as she grinned up at the ceiling. Finally! A way to do something in the other dreams! What else can she do?!

Not much if she didn’t learn more magic manipulation…

The sermon seemed like it would go all day. Em was dozing again by the time the priest finally dismissed everyone and Tracy got up. Then Em held Tracy’s hand as they made their way across the room to the men’s side.

That was a weird difference between the two worlds. (Well, one of the weird differences, anyway.) When people went to ‘church’, men and women sat on different sides of the room.

If they sat in the same room.

Some gods forbade specific genders to enter their courts at all.

Because of Emmaline’s memories, none of what they’d done today surprised Em. Even Felix had gone to church once a month. Which was the minimum requirement before people started whispering that you might not be devout and become wary of you.

It was funny because Em had rarely gone to any kind of church in her awake life.

… Though when death became a certain thing, she’d gone more often…

It was also funny because like in real life, most of the people here were just hot air hypocrites about it.

The only differences between here and there is the gods here seem to be more active. At least you knew if someone had divine power or not. And you could tell when someone was possessed or if a demon attacked you.

Not that Emmaline had ever seen a demon, but she was sure Flint had fought many of them.

Flint was reading something when Em and Tracy joined him.

Tracy waited for him to look up before bowing, but otherwise didn’t interrupt him.

He grunted, folded the letter, and slid out of his pew. With only a wave for them to follow, he strode down the aisle and out the back door. Em watched with interest as people instinctively got out of his way and he didn’t spare them even a glance.

The Temple complex was vast.

There were twelve gods in total and each one had their own court within the complex. All but one of them allowed visitors and all of them had multiple buildings for different functions. Including dormitories and other residences for their priests, priestesses, and paladins.

And once you got past the front gate, all of them required you to walk to wherever you were going.

Em was huffing by the time they reached the front gate and Flint cast a grim look on her.

“Once we reach Silver Vale, you’ll need to start physical training.”