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[Cezanne Abella]

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Too much. This is far too much. Cezanne stared out the window at the path leading to her theatre. No sign of him yet. She lowered her gaze again, trying to concentrate on the textbook in her lap.

Her vision had brought with it a terror that lurked in every shadow. The eyes that watched her when she could not see. And now Kay’s promise to bring knights to guard her. Not the theatre. Not its patrons. But her. She winced as she remembered the terror of the vision. Of being devoured by the darkness. Arahim had himself told her it sounded like more than a dream. What if it was?

They don’t deserve this. They have wives and families and homes. They don’t deserve to be brought here to guard someone they don’t even know. And what if I’m right? What if there’s danger? They don’t deserve that either. She would have to find a way to refuse. But how? She knew Kaylor’s determination. She knew his far-reaching power. He would not accept her protests any more than he’d accept her protection from whatever danger may lurk in her dreams. Without warning, the bottom fell out of her heart. She had to protect him, no matter the cost. But he’d never allow it.

Or would he? Only if he had no other choice.

Hooves clattered up the cobblestones to the stable. Kaylor appeared in the doorway, smiling warmly, a sharp contrast to the icy stabbing pain in her gut. But she knew what she had to do. She had to make him safe, the only way she knew how.

“Kaylor.”

“Hello Angel.” He crossed the room quickly and kissed her forehead.

“Please…please sit down for a moment.”

Kay looked at her, somewhat concerned, but did as she asked. “Is everything all right?”

Cezanne shook her head, trying not to let her emotions overcome her. “Nothing’s all right, Kay. But hear me out, please.” She held out a hand to stop him as he tried to rise.

“Kaylor, we can’t be together. It’s not right. Your vows, your faith, it’s all so foreign to me. And a king…” she laughed, but it turned to a sob and caught in her throat, as she allowed all her misgivings and self-doubts take over. “How could I ever belong to a king? How could I begin to measure up to what you deserve?”

Kaylor’s expression was one of pure shock. “Cezanne…”

Cezanne shook her head, wiping away a tear, her hands trembling. “My mind is made up Kaylor. My heart is my own. I’m so sorry.”

She felt the oncoming torrent. Without another word, she pressed a kiss to Kaylor’s forehead and dashed up the stairs to her chamber, leaving him sitting alone before an empty stage.

Upstairs, Cezanne unabashedly lay face down upon her bed and wept.