It took merely a few seconds for them to arrive where their brother was, but each of those seconds made Rocío’s stomach churn in dread and her heart sink. She hated this.

“Santi!” Elena called just as they arrived before the two young men.

Rocío avoided her brother’s gaze as he turned towards them. She wanted to turn around and run back to the solitude of the balcony she had been in less than five minutes prior. Maybe she should’ve gone to bed in the first place and her sister wouldn’t have bothered her. Maybe she could’ve been tossing and turning on her bed instead.

“Elena, Rocío,” Santiago’s smile was heard through his voice. “Oh I should probably introduce you!” 

Rocío took a deep breath and mentally encouraged herself before she looked up at her brother, plastering a smile on her face, but avoided so much as glancing at the man next to him at all costs.

“I would like you to meet Marquis Félix de Valentina, fifth son of the Duke of Zorro,” Santiago introduced as he turned towards the man. “Sir Félix, these are my sisters; Rocío and Elena.”

Both Elena and Rocío gave a small curtsy. As they stood straight, the man reached out to Elena first, taking her lace-gloved hand and raising it slightly in a greeting. “Congratulations, Lady Elena.”

Elena’s smile was as wide as it could be, her eyes had become like the crescent moon that lit the night. “Thank you, Marquis Valentina,” she giggled bashfully, causing Rocío to roll her eyes.

“Please, I prefer if you'd call me Félix.”

Once he let go of Elena’s hand, Rocío knew it was her turn to greet him. She closed her eyes briefly and opened them as he reached out to her. She turned to him and let him take her hand. As he raised it, she forced herself to look up at him.

Her heart caught in her throat and she froze.

“It is lovely to meet you, Lady Rocío, your brother speaks highly of you.” There was a soft smile on his face, brightening his already handsome features.

But Rocío couldn’t look away from him.

His eyes. His eyes. 

Those soulless, lifeless, cruel emeralds she saw in her dreams. They stared down at her. They might not have looked as they did when they haunted her at night, they might have been full of kindness and light, but she knew. It was him.

She couldn’t speak as she drew a shaky breath. Her hand dropped with the weight of a war horse once he let go, falling limp by her side. A sensation that felt like burning flames travelled from where their fingers had met, up her arm, and into her chest, igniting her heart like a steam engine, causing it to beat wildly. She couldn’t look away from those dreaded eyes of his but she knew she had to. 

“Rocío, are you alright? You look awfully pale…” The voice of her brother finally pried her eyes from the man before her.

“I–” she was breathless. “I–I should excuse my-myself.” Her hands tightened into fists as a wave of dread and anxiety crashed on her.

Concern knitted Santiago’s eyebrows and he tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

Rocío glanced at her sister, noticing her equally worried expression. “I…”

She heard Marquis Félix say something but she couldn’t dare look at him or hear him past the ringing that began in her ears. 

“I’m not feeling well…I should…I should go.” The room was starting to spin around her and she did her best to keep her breathing in check.

“Should I escort you?” Her brother asked, taking a step towards her.

Rocío shook her head. “I can manage,” she breathed.

“I’ll inform Leticia to see to you,” Elena offered, and after Rocío nodded, they let her go.

She somehow managed to make it to the hallway while keeping her composure, but as soon as she was far enough from the ballroom, she couldn’t contain herself. She began to breathe erratically, her quick hoarse breaths were not enough to make her lungs feel satiated and instead she needed more and more air. The room was waltzing around her and she leaned on the wall, slipping to the floor once her knees could no longer support her weight and that of her dress. She brought her hands to her collarbone as if they somehow would keep her composed. Her vision blurred and within seconds the sobs escaped from her mouth, the tears streamed down her cheeks and there was nothing that could control her.

The hallway was filled with her cries and she wanted to get up and move, but her body had lost all its energy. She rocked herself forward and backwards, hitting her back against the wall rhythmically so as to ground herself. Between the sobs and her erratic breathing her throat had become hoarse and she could hardly breathe, making it worse.

It was him. He was real. It wasn’t just a dream. He would kill them. He would kill her.

The dream flashed through her mind. The tall flames, the ashes and embers around her, the fearful look in Leticia’s eyes, and the horrible knowledge of the death of her family.

Most importantly, however, she remembered his eyes.

Those soulless emerald eyes.

She started to see light and dark spots in her vision and before she knew it, her vision went black.