*Rhys*
“And if I could please just have seven million from the crown, the retaining wall…" the private engineer droned on in his recorded video petition on my three-screen monitor setup.
I tried not to fall asleep while the lulling voice of the engineer talked about water runoff. More dreams, more intense than before and still plagued by fire-breathing monsters, kept me awake at night and jolted me awake from naps during the day.
It was becoming harder and harder to screen the petitioners because the e-mails, voicemails, and video recordings were all mixing together in a soup of sleepiness. I couldn't remember the last time I got more than a whole hour of sleep.
Just as I was about to give up for the day, Daxton came traipsing into my office with a gobsmacked look on his face. “Rhys," he said, waving a piece of paper in the air, “you got a letter."
“Contracts go in that pile there, general kingdom business there… Does it need to be signed right away or something?" I asked.
“No." Daxton shook his head. “No signature needed. It's… it's… it's a petition."
“Ah." I nodded. “I'm glad you've been checking the e-faxes, but there was no need to print it out. You could have just flagged it as important. I was going to check the folder before knocking off for the day. I just forgot."
Daxton shook his head again. “It's not a fax. It's a letter."
“A letter?" I blinked at him. “Well, I guess there are some older Alphas still printing out letters and sending them by courier. I just hadn't encountered one yet."
Daxton laid the paper in front of me. “It's a handwritten letter on official stationery. It's from a place called Hunter's Glen. You need to read this letter," Daxton said, pointing at it.
I looked down at the perfect, flowing script. It was elegant yet bold, and it had a feminine flare. Glancing at the bottom, I noted the sender was, indeed, a woman, Saoirse Strider. Since the Alpha of the small pack's name was Patrick Strider, it followed she must be his daughter.
After reading the first two sentences, I found my guess was correct. It was the future Luna Saoirse Strider. “Sa-o-er-see…" I rolled the name around on my tongue.
“Sur-sha," Daxton corrected me. “But that's not the most interesting part of the letter. Read on."
I read the next few paragraphs, paused, and then read them again from the top. I flipped the letter over on its back but did not see any more information. Still, what little had been there had me shaken. “You're pranking me," I accused Daxton.
“Hand to goddess, I did not have anything to do with this," Daxton said seriously. “It's dated a week and a half ago. She didn't courier it. It came through the standard mail." He handed over the envelope. “See? Date and destination stamped and everything. Unless you've got some friend in Hunter's Glen with a sick sense of humor, this is the real deal."
The letter was impossible, incredibly impossible.
“Set up a video call with this one as soon as possible," I told Daxton.
He nodded and held his hand out for the letter.
“You can get the contact information from the envelope, can't you? Or palace records?" I asked.
“Well, yeah, but why do you need to hang onto the letter?" Daxton responded.
“I'm just… I'm just going to," I said defensively, gripping the edges of the letter so hard the heavy paper began to crinkle.
Daxton frowned at me. “You might not want to tell your father about this until we know more."
“Of course, I won't. The last thing I need is for him to think I'm crazy, too," I scoffed.
“I know." Daxton hesitated and then added contritely, “I have to admit that with all the dreams and visions, I thought you might be losing your marbles, Rhys. But this puts a whole new light on things. I'm sorry for doubting you."
“Hell, Daxton, I thought I was losing my marbles too. I'm not going to be mad at you about it." I chuckled, though with a tinge of bitterness.
Daxton smiled at me. “You're a good friend. I'll get this arranged as soon as possible." He left with the envelope without saying another word.
I looked down at the letter again, smoothing out the edges as my eyes scanned over the words once more.
“Your Majesty Alpha King Axel Crimson," the letter began without a preamble, “I'm afraid the border of Hunter's Glen has been attacked…"
I took a deep breath and continued.
“By a winged monster."
***
The rest of the petitions went unread. I couldn't concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. I didn't eat lunch. I didn't trust myself to sleep. I just sat at my desk and tapped my foot, glaring at the clock and wondering what was taking Daxton so long.
Finally, Daxton wandered back into my office.
“So it seems that Alpha Patrick wasn't exactly pleased to hear about Saoirse's petition," Daxton said slowly. “It took me three hours to convince him we needed to talk to her about the situation. He thinks she was dreaming. He was pretty pissed off, Rhys, and he kept apologizing for wasting our time."
I raised a hand to stop him from continuing. “Daxton, if it's a dream, then we're having the same dream. That alone warrants some kind of investigation. Maybe it's magic. Who knows? But we're connected somehow. I need to know how, and I need to know if what we're seeing is real. It's not a waste of time."
“I didn't say it was," Daxton replied in a wounded tone. “I was just saying the Alpha of the region is saying it was a garden-variety forest fire." He put a hand on my shoulder. “I don't want you to cling to false hope."
“Do you think I'm hoping Egoren is being attacked by huge, fire-breathing, flying beasts?" I asked.
“No." Daxton looked sad. “I think you're hoping you're not crazy, so you'll latch on to anything. I did arrange a meeting in ten minutes, but I want you to be objective. I know it might be tempting to–"
I folded my arms across my chest. “I'm always objective."
Daxton gave me a half-shrug. “I know I wouldn't be in this situation."
“Well, I will be. I'm a prince and heir to the Alpha King's throne and in charge of screening the petitions. It's my job," I responded firmly.
“Okay." Daxton bumped me aside from my computer and set up the call. “It doesn't hurt to be early. She can join when she's on. Though, there isn't a lot of infrastructure for internet as far out as Hunter's Glen, so I don't know what the video or sound quality will be."
I brought up a scanned copy of the letter on my left screen and a blank document for notes on my right and then watched my middle screen expectantly, waiting for the black rectangle that was “Alpha Hunters Glen" to light up.
Daxton pulled up a chair off to the side, out of view of the camera. I didn't see a need to tell him to leave, but it was a little annoying that he didn't ask if he could stay.
Ten minutes passed, and then fifteen. I raised an eyebrow at Daxton.
“I told you the internet out there is–" Daxton began.
“Hello?"
I snapped my eyes back to my screen and blinked. I was looking at a very nice, modestly covered bosom. “Um… Saoirse Strider?" I guessed.
“That's me. Beta Daxton told my father I'd be speaking to Prince Rhys Crimson. Is that you?" the bosom asked.
“Would you mind adjusting your camera a bit, Saoirse? I'm not getting your face," I said politely.
The bosom heaved an annoyed sigh, and then the image bounced and pixelated. “I'm looking right at the computer screen. I don't know why you aren't seeing my face. Are you just seeing the top of my head or something?"
“Um… something like that." I tapped the top of my screen. “You might have a separate camera plugged into your computer. Some of the… er… older models are like that. It might be sitting at the wrong angle. You can tell how you look to me in the lower right-hand side of our chat screen. There's a box there showing your side of the conversation. Do you see it?"
“What in the bright blue fairy-ing blazes… Oh. Oh… Shi-shoot," Saoirse said. The camera pixelated again.
I stifled a laugh. This was too ridiculous. The girl didn't even know how to operate a webcam. I wondered how I could possibly trust what she had seen.
Saoirse's face came into view suddenly, very close up, as though she'd taken the camera down and was holding it in front of her. “Better?" a startling emerald green eye asked me.
“Well… better, yes, but…" I started to say.
The camera backed up, and I saw bosom again as she adjusted the camera on top of the computer. I sighed and was about to end the call with my apologies to her father when Saoirse finally came properly on screen.
“I think I figured it out," she said, sounding a bit winded from her struggle.
She had red hair like a burning sunset and piercing intelligent green eyes. She was petite and truly stunning.
She was every inch of the woman from my dreams, right down to the simple lavender dress.
“Right," Saoirse began in a businesslike tone. “I know my father's probably poisoned you against believing what I tell you, but I promise you, everything in that letter was tr–"
“Come to the capital," I interrupted her.
Saoirse stopped and blinked at me. “The… capital? Do you mean the capital of Egoren? Where you are?"
“Yes," I said. “Now that I've met you, It is best that you come to plead your case in person. Bring what evidence you have."
“Are you… Is that really necessary?" Saoirse asked, a flicker of worry flashing across her face.
“Yes. Fly here," I replied. “As quick as you can."
Daxton cleared his throat delicately and mouthed, “They're over five hundred miles from the nearest airport."
“Look, the problem is here," Saoirse said. “My village is the part of Egoren under threat. I don't see any reason for me to leave. Can't you just come here?"
“I'll send a train ticket. Just do as I say," I ordered maybe a little more forcefully than I intended.
Saoirse scowled at me. “Men," she muttered before standing up and walking away from the call.
I stared into Alpha Patrick's empty office. After several moments, I realized Saoirse wasn't coming back. She likely assumed our call was finished when she walked away.
That was fine as long as she showed up in the capital. I needed to see her in person and confirm that the woman from my visions was real and not a figment of my imagination.
If she was real, it meant the threat to her village was also real. As a prince, it was my duty to face that threat.
"Daxton," I said, turning to my friend, "make arrangements for Saoirse's travel here immediately. Book her a first-class ticket on the fastest train from her village and prepare suitable lodgings for her arrival."
Daxton raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to roll out the red carpet for some random village girl? Don't you think you're overreacting a bit?"
I met his gaze steadily. "No, I don't believe I am. Just take care of it, please."
He searched my face for a moment and nodded. "As you wish. I'll make it happen."
"Thank you, my friend," I said, clasping his shoulder. I knew I could count on him.
For now, all I could do was anxiously await the arrival of the maiden with hair like fire. I only prayed she would come.
I needed to know she was real.