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“You don’t ask the questions, you obey,” the voice told her, a harsh edge to its tone. A male or a female, Neera couldn’t tell. It was an echo, as if the voice didn’t belong to an earthly being.

“What do you want from me? I am a powerful demon now. Reveal yourself if you are no coward.” Neera dared the voice.

There was a ringing of a cackle, loud and piercing, and instantly, the headache that bludgeoned Neera for weeks on end came with a force. She held her head in a hand and took everything in her not to hiss from the pain of it.

“Arrogance looks good on you,” the voice said. “But there is a time and place for it, not here.”

“I ask again, what do you want?”

“Patience, my dear,” the voice was in front of her. Involuntary goosebumps crawled up Neera’s arms. “I only have to check up on my piece.”

“Your piece?”

“The one that makes all this possible,” the voice said. “I have to make sure you are put in check. But you are not only powerful but smart, smart enough to find me yourself.”

.....

“I didn’t find you. You came barging into my chambers. Again.” the headache amplified, but Neera ignored it, training her ears to focus on the voice.

“I didn’t come,” the voice was behind her now. “You wanted me here, and I am not in your room.”

Neera looked around, but it was still the same pitch black of the night.

“Stop playing games with me, and for the last time, what do you…”

“…want? Stop asking the questions, like I said. Be patient,” the voice hummed a little. “And you might want to wake up. The King is on his way to you. I will be back again soon.”

“What?” Neera was dumbfounded.

The voice cackled in that sinister manner, and the headache grew stronger, falling Neera to her knees as she clutched on her banging head. The laughs screeched like thousands of bells in her ears, and as she fell to the ground from the pain, her eyes opened.

She sat up in her bed, it was still daytime, and thankfully, there was no Penelope to continue the nightmare in reality.

The door shifted open. Only one person had the audacity to open the door on her, and it was the King himself. Neera’s headache subsided into a dull ache. Whoever it was in that darkness, the person had been “kind” enough to not let the headache be one of her worsts.

The King stopped and looked at her. She must be such a sight, the unruly cutting of her short hair already sprouting some growth at different lengths jutting at different sides of her head, the gown she wore cut at the sleeves to reveal her arms (because most of the gowns were of terrible, terrible tastes), and a frown to welcome the King.

“Pen’s been out there a while,” Zavian said. He resumed walking to her and sat at her side of the bed. “She just wants to talk.”

“Then you should entertain her,” Neera said.

Zavian, as always, brushed off the comments like they were missed arrows shooting past him. When Neera attempted to stand and leave the room, he pulled her to him, until her face was mere inches away from his.

“Neera,” his eyes bored into hers, and there were searching again, but again, he didn’t find the warmth he was looking for. But he still craved her touch, he wanted her, still, remembering the nights they shared together.

And so, he pulled her face to his and kissed her.

Neera didn’t push him away, nor did she reciprocate. He guided her with his body to lay back on the bed, and even as he deepened the kiss, just like the way he had done before, just like the way he had memorized everything about her body and the way it responded to his, he got nothing from her.

He broke the kiss and stared down at her face. There was no breathlessness, no dilated pupils, nothing. Just blank eyes staring back at him, stoned with annoyance rather than pleasure.

“Would you allow me to have my way with you and do nothing about it?” Zavian had to ask.

“Well, I still will uphold my duties as a concubine, won’t I?”

The comment slashed through him like a knife. “You are not for warming my bed, Neera. You are the love of my life, and someone I want to spend eternity with. I would wait because I know behind all this that you are doing now. I know you are in there, Neera. I know, just like Pen knows, and with time, you will be okay again.”

Neera blinked up at him, but said nothing. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, or if she was even thinking at all.

“I want you by my side,” Zavian said. “I used to want Lilah, then I fell in love with you. And now that you are back again, I won’t change anything about you anymore. If there are a thousand different versions of you, Neera, I would love every one of them. Because you are you, and that would never change.”

He touched at the uneven hair, trailed the calluses of his hands down her cheek, her nose, her lips, touching her like braille, reading the features that he had grown to love and to know.

“I am done doing what is needed of me by everyone,” he whispered. “And now, I am going to make you Queen.”

….

Penelope returned to the estate when flocks of birds formed V patterns in the sky as they flew home, and the frogs sang in unsyncing harmony with the crickets. The sun had painted the sky before it sunk behind the clouds, usually, she would stay to admire the view, but she was numb. So when her feet guided her up the stairs as concerned eyes from the maids followed her, she didn’t hear or see anything or anyone.