Curled up in the window sill of her spacious room, Keegan leans her head on the cold glass, allowing it to pull her from her thoughts momentarily. 

The moon, full and bright, shines down on her drawn face, her shoulder length raven black hair sticking to the trails of moisture on her cheeks. 

‘When will I get used to this?’ 

She laments, fixing her gaze on the luminous orb. Her silver blue eyes seem to glow with the light of the moon, becoming small stars on earth. 

“It still looks the same, even after all this time” 

She sighs, the low octave of her voice dry and weary, wavering with the effort to speak. 

Scoffing softly as anger rises in her throat, burning like bile, she glares at the moon with the embers of her grief. Lowering her head tiredly, she turns to face her room. Dark save for the silhouette of the window, its reach is dwarfed by the size of the room she occupies. Her gaze is out of focus, seeing something no longer there, seeking a familiar face she’ll never see again.

Her room, so spacious for just one person, is filled with comfort and luxury, as the Duchess of the Empire should have. 

Gold coated bed frames, the softest silks for her bedding, and glass crafted from the most talented hands all sparkle dimly from the depths of her room as they reflect the soft hues of the full moon. 

A small rustle of her hair is heard in the silent room, as she tilts her face back up to the moon. Her face softly illuminated, she closes her eyes, trying to sigh away the tightness in her chest to no avail. 

The book in her lap lets out a small thump as she drops her hand on it, holding it so tight the spine creaks. Her fingers dig into the strong leather cover, careful to avoid the corner of a photograph partially sticking out. 

“I want to see you” 

She whispers, but the words start burning in her throat, immediately sapping her strength. She gasps, hunching forward in surprise as the pain presses her throat closed. She coughs up something warm and metallic on her tongue, covering her mouth with her hand in surprise, her other grasping at her throat in pain.

THUD.

Her head whips around to the noise. Dizzy from the pain, her eyes go in and out of focus as she struggles to keep her senses. 

When her eyes have started to recognize her surroundings again, they widen. If she wasn’t still coughing, she would have held her breath in that moment. 

Lying just out of the moon’s rays, lays a person, breathing raggedly. The hand within view is shaking, as if in great pain. Small pauses in their breathing can be heard, as if they’re trying to be as quiet as possible in their suffering. 

Frozen in disbelief, she stares at the man, sprawled on the floor, blood dripping from between her fingers. A cold sweat begins to drip down her chin and her spine, sending involuntary shivers through her.

‘What have I done?’ 

Her thoughts sluggish, she pulls her other hand down to help her off the windowsill, dropping the book to the floor, forgotten. Sweat now coating her skin in a thin veil, she opens her mouth to call her attendants.

“Hah” 

Wheezing, her voice too hoarse to call for anyone. 

She grasps her throat in frustration, grimacing. Looking around, she remembers she has a bell tucked away that she never uses. 

Sparing a nervous glance at the person on the floor, she runs to her nightstand on shaky legs, pulling out a box with a black bell nestled in velvet. She swings it hard multiple times, the deep sound reverberating through her ears and the room. 

Moments later, a butler by the name of Marcus comes into the room, dressed in all black to match his mistress. His black hair is slicked back and neat, his aged face elegant and kind. Keegan often wonders if he sleeps, as she has never seen him out of sorts in all the time he’s worked in the manor. 

Upon entering, sweeping his blue eyes across the room, he swiftly takes in the scene. 

Calmly, he meets Keegan’s gaze.

“It is as you fear, Your Grace. Please rest, I will make sure everything is properly cared for.” 

Marcus bows, and then stoops to pick up the quivering person on the floor. 

Holding the person in a princess carry, Keegan can now see dark splotches mottling the skin of a man with long hair, swaying with each step Marcus takes towards the door. His arm goes limp as he appears to lose consciousness, drooping in Marcus’s hold. 

As Marcus leaves, two maids are rushing in to tend to Keegan, with cloths and warm water, as two others bring in lanterns to clean any messes on the floor. 

“Would you like to bath, Your Grace?" 

One of the maids asks, bringing out a handkerchief. 

Coughing fresh blood into it, she absentmindedly shakes her head. As another maid begins to wipe the sweat from her face, Keegan glances at the floor where the man had been. While she couldn’t take her eyes off the floor, only dots of blood and an overturned corner of a rug remained. 

The next morning, Keegan is escorted to the chambers which house the unexpected guest of House DeMasses. 

As she enters, she is greeted with the sight of a man sitting up, his long platinum hair messy and trailing over his face. His face is expectant and tired, meeting her gaze with eyes full of suspicion. 

Keegan’s heart began beating mercilessly in her chest as she recognized the planes of his face. Not to alert the people around her, or her guest, Keegan kept a straight face, and hid her shaking hands in the folds of her long black skirt. 

His sunset eyes discern her while holding a glass of water in his hands. 

Keegan extends her hand in a request for the paper and quill that was brought with them, to which Marcus hands her. As she scribbles, the room is silent, the only sound the scratching of the quill. 

Unable to handle the extended silence, the guest speaks, the bandage on his face rustling with the movement. 

“Have… have I been forgiven?” 

He says quietly, his beautiful face crumpling in a frown. 

Keegan flinches and thinks to herself with a pang of sorrow.

‘There was nothing to forgive’

Keegan turns her paper to Marcus, who then reads aloud:

“My name is Keegan DeMasses. Regrettably, I am unable to use my voice to address you, so please make do with my faithful servant Marcus relaying my words to you.”

“I will get straight to the reason you are here. You have been summoned from your world into mine with the magic that flows within my blood”

Keegan takes a book from under her arm and hands it to the man, it’s spine worn with years of love. 

“Magic?…”

The man looks at the book, a rendering of what looks to be himself on the front cover.

‘What am I doing on the cover of this book?’

“My magic allows me to bring people or items into my world from another. You are one such person.”

Keegan takes back the paper, seemingly done and waits for the man to comprehend what was being said to him. 

“Tell Lucian this was a good joke” After several moments, the deadpan response is heard. He is very obviously not believing the world around him at the moment. 

Keegan scribbles, hesitating before showing him the pad.

‘He doesn’t exist in this world’

“He doesn’t… exist?” 

The man with the sunset eyes looks from her to the book in his hands, falling silent.

‘I understand you’re confused. It’s a new world.’

More scribbling. 

‘As a guest of the DeMasses estate, a safe place with which you will be cared for, please take solace here as we determine how to send you back home’

‘What kind of horrid trick is this?’ 

The man thinks to himself.

“Where is Rhys?” 

Scribbling.

‘He doesn’t-

“He doesn’t exist here, right.”

The man interrupts himself while reading the response, his face now resting in his hands as he pushes away the paper in Keegan’s hand. 

“I’m so sorry” 

Keegan manages to whisper. 

“Your Grace!” 

Marcus exclaims, as Keegan bursts into a coughing fit. The other maids in the rooms agree with Marcus and fetch a cloth for her to cough into, but Keegan waves them away. 

‘She looks like she’s waving away bugs’ he thinks to himself, wondering who the lady in front of him is. 

After the coughing subsides, she scribbles on more paper.

‘We will now take our leave, but please let me know if you need anything.’

Turning to face him again, he spots blood on the corner of her mouth. Being a gentleman, he’d rather not call on the lady at all, let alone a sick one.

After a pause, he points to Marcus.

“I’ll let him know. Please leave me be”

Keegan’s face looks surprised not to be called upon, but she nods. 

As the door shuts behind them, Keegan is overwhelmed with her thoughts.

‘I’ve brought my favorite character into this world. I’ve brought Kai into my world.’ She is overcome with a need to pull her hair out, but resists, as she is still being escorted by Marcus. She sighs, wishing for a warm cup of tea for her throat. 

Kai, now laying down in the bed, is tossing and turning with the information he was just fed.

‘A story? Me?’

His gaze falls upon the book, now on the nightstand with the water he placed there. 

‘No no no’

He turns away from it. 

His cheek and body throbbing, his thoughts float to Rhys, his friend he’s left behind.

‘I hope you’re ok, Rhys.’

Keegan’s words come back to him in that moment. 

‘He doesn’t exist in this world’

Kai opens his eyes and looks at the ceiling of his bed. The gold leaves intertwining the surface are far above what he was used to not only 24 hours ago.

‘A story, huh?’ And turns to face the book again. 

‘Does that mean… I’m not real?’ 

His eyes start to sting with the overwhelming wave of emotions that surge at that statement. All the pain, suffering, joy, triumph… not real? Absurd. 

…Absurd.

After turning over yet again, he’s silent for several minutes, left alone with his thoughts and the extravagance that is his surroundings. 

“It hurts” 

His barely audible whisper escapes his lips before he drifts into a fitful sleep.