Sky

Your life was boring. Work, home, sleep. The only escape was abandoned buildings. You loved the fear of walking alone, in complete darkness.

You've explored everything you can. Abandoned factories, hospitals, pioneer camps. But you're running out of emotion.

And then you dug deeper into the internet.

We stumbled upon an old castle in Amsterdam that once belonged to the royal family. Just what we needed.

All your savings went on the ticket. Train, hotel, backpack on your back—and here you are, standing in front of him.

The castle turned out to be enormous. No match for your shabby factory ruins. You'd studied the layout beforehand: the left wing was the prince and his wives' quarters. The right wing was the king and queen's quarters, along with their youngest daughter's. And below, underground, were the dungeons. That's where you went first.

Bones, chains, brown stains. Horror.

It was dark outside. You looked out the window—the hotel was already closed, they weren't letting you in.

"Okay," you said to yourself. "I'll spend the night here. What could go wrong?"

They chose the most comfortable room—the chambers of one of the prince's wives.

You lay down and fell into a dreamless sleep.

You woke up to someone's hands pulling your wrists.

You opened your eyes.

Instead of the peeling ceiling of the abandoned building, there's carved wood, golden stucco, and heavy velvet canopies. Instead of silence, there's the hubbub of voices, laughter, and music playing somewhere.

• Get up, sir! We're late!

A round-faced woman in a cap leans over you. Her eyes are frightened, her cheeks are rosy, and she holds a corset in her hands.

“What’s wrong?” you croaked. “Where am I?”

"What do you mean, where?" she clasped her hands. "In the castle! Today is your wedding with Prince Sky! All the nobility has arrived, and you're sleeping!"

You sat up in bed. The room was floating. Outside the windows, it wasn't Amsterdam at night, but a sunny day, people in camisoles and dresses.

— What wedding? What prince?

"Have you really lost your memory?" the woman clasped her hands. "The Prince of Skye! Your fiancé! He's a real beauty, they say, he stood outside your window all night, waiting for you to at least look out."

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

The woman was already pulling the corset on you, not listening to objections.