Chapter 7 COULD IT BE TRUE?

REBELLE 

I follow the girl up the grand staircase of the castle, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to think of all the things that could go wrong. I might have been right about Azrael being a cultist, and they’re taking me to a prison cell where I will stay until they decide I’m useful. Or maybe he is truly a divine being, but I am not the goddess he claims. What if they’re trying to sacrifice me or something? Maybe I’m an offering to some diabolical god they serve. 

I am so consumed by my thoughts that I don’t have it in me to take in the beauty of the castle. The shiny black marble floors, the smooth walls and the beautiful chandeliers made of dark crystal, and the beautiful paintings on the wall. There are torches lining the walls of the hallways and staircases, and some crimson germs, interrupting the perfect array of darkness. 

Everything screams wealth and power, lots and fucking lots of power. 

But the fear of being sacrificed is not what plagues my mind throughout the journey up the stairs, no. It’s more of the fact that I understood every word of the strange language that was said earlier. But how is that even possible? I mean it’s not even an existing language on earth, I can bet my life on that. Not only does it sound ancient, it also sounds like something the characters in one of Rosa’s endless fantasy novels. 

And I understood each and every word of it. Does this mean Azrael was right and I am actually who he says I am? The goddess of this place? 

Fuck, what am I even saying? I must be going crazy! 

The girl – Fera – quietly leads me up two very long flights of stairs, before pushing open two black, huge double doors and gesturing inside. “Your bedroom, my lady.” 

I step in and gasp at the sight in front of me. It’s not just the bedroom – which is very, very beautiful by the way – it’s the paintings hanging on the walls. Three of them, all of the same person. 

Me! 

Or rather, someone who looks like me. A lot like me if I may add. Even if this person is my double ganger – which I don’t believe in, anyways – then she most likely has to be some kind of twin that got lost along the way and got into another woman. The similarities are just so much. 

Beautiful hazel brown eyes, glossy dark hair falling to her waist in huge curls, and smooth olive skin. Even the tiny mole beneath my left eye is present in hers as well. Too much fucking resemblance! 

Take away the black low waisted skirt, tiny blouse and several pieces of jewelry , and she’s a complete replica of me. 

“Are you okay, my lady?” Fera's concerned voice snaps me out of whatever trance I am in. She has moved from the door and is now standing next to me with a worried expression. 

“The painting…” I trail off, not knowing exactly what to say. 

Her gaze travels to the paintings on the wall and a smile graces her lips. “They’re beautiful aren’t they, my lady? My mom told me they’ve been hanging here ever since you died.” 

“What?” That’s not what I meant to say, but that’s the only word that leaves my lips. I meant to tell her I haven’t died before, to contradict whatever Hades must have told them. 

But he didn’t tell them anything and that’s the problem. The moment we arrived, they all seemed to know who I was. Still, it could just be that just like him, they’re confused and going through denial. 

She nods. “I heard the paintings used to line the hallways without the others, but ever since you died, Lord Azrael had them moved to your room with every other thing that belonged to you. Your room has been kept clean since then.” 

“Oh!” Is all I can say because what the hell do people say in situations like this? 

I take in the room – properly this time – and I am impressed. It’s dressed in black with a touch of pink here and there. They’re her favorite colors, especially black. You can tell from the way all the clothing she has on in the paintings are black. 

Turns out we share the same favorite color as well. At this point, the similarities are just too much, and I find myself wondering if I am the one in denial or Hades. 

“Will you love to shower before I take you on a tour of the castle grounds, my lady?” She asks. 

I shake my head, not at the mention of a shower – I really do need one – but at the way she addresses me. On a normal day, I would tell her to just address me as Rebelle. She seems about my age, but I am certain she is older. But some part of me is content with it. The respect, admiration and fear I see in her eyes, something in me is pleased at it. 

“I will take a shower, thank you,” I tell her . 

She helps me take off my clothes and slips a bathrobe over my shoulders. I’m not an invalid, or a handicap, mind you. But somehow, I feel very okay with her helping me undress, or helping me shower in the large bathroom that is the size of my bedroom back at home, or even when she helps me dress later on. It feels like I have been through the process a trillion times before. 

Fuck! 

A few minutes later, I am dressed in a dark crimson floor length gown with a hip– high slit, and a deep plunging neckline. My entire back and sides are left exposed and I’m covered in lots of jewelry. By the time I stare at the mirror, I cannot recognize myself. I glance at the paintings, then the mirror and I am a perfect match. 

Maybe, just maybe Azrael is right. Ughh! At this point, to say I am confused will be a huge understatement. 

“You look beautiful, my lady,” Fera whispers, her eyes shining with admiration. 

Before I can respond, a loud, angry growl is heard from outside. Fera gasps, her eyes going wide with fear. What the? 

“What was that?” I ask, my heart racing in my chest. 

She moves forward and grabs my hand. “Lord Azrael asks that I bring you downstairs. Let’s go!” 

I follow her down without any hesitation, the roaring never seizing for more than a few seconds. As we make our way to the grand hall , I notice almost everyone is panicking. 

“What’s going on?” I ask Azreal the moment we get to the grand hall. 

“Fifty gold coins, the guards won’t be able to hold him back for five more minutes ,” the blonde haired man standing next to Azrael says to the redhead next to him. 

She scoffs. “It’s funny how you think they can even hold him back. Fifty gold coins says he breaks in about…now.” 

“Where is my sister!” Whatever it is out there growls and next thing we know, the door slams open.