Lady Ashe knew that she was a figurehead.  She had no power, and for some reason, she was all right with that.  She knew that the Archadian Empire was suspicious of all the rulers that they allowed to keep their sovereignty, but because her father was being outwardly obedient and enthusiastic, she knew that she was not a target.

However, she knew her father was in pain.  His people were suffering, being abused by the Empire.  Their rights were being stripped from them, and those that had been Nabradian citizens that fled to Dalmasca were forbidden from owning land in Dalmasca, and were punished twice as fiercely for minor crimes.

She had returned from a walk through the city with her guardians, Vossler Azelas and Basch fon Ronsenburg.  She was thankful that her people didn’t look upon her with scorn or distrust, but was quite distressed to note that most of them seemed full of pity for her, approaching her to offer condolences, when it was she who felt like the royal family owed an explanation.

She sat at dinner that with her father, pushing food around on her plate and sighing audibly.  After a few moments she excused herself, kissed her father on the cheek and decided that she wanted a bath before bed and walked upstairs briskly.

She wouldn’t realize until weeks later that Rasler would have been dead for exactly thirty days on that night.  She drew herself a bath, singing to herself in a loud, cheerful voice.  She removed her street clothes and tossed them down the laundry chute to the cellar.  

Cellar shares a wall with the tomb, she thought blandly, and turned to examine herself in the mirror.

She decided that she was happy with her naked figure, turning to the side to make sure her derriere and breasts were in proportion.  They were.  Mostly.  She wished that her butt stuck out a bit more, but knew that would be remedied by the dresses she wore.

“Not so flat,” she told her bum, and started to giggle.  

She stepped into the ornate tub and sank down into the warm water, letting out a groan.  Her legs hurt a bit from walking so much, and the water was happy to remind her as it went about soothing her aches and pains.  She sank further and further down, until she was completely submerged.  

She loved how water made her feel so weightless.  She let her hands half-float in the water and opened her eyes to look up at the distorted ceiling.  She exhaled, creating a few bubbles and squinted.  When she turned her head just so, the light looked like

Hand there is a hand holding me down cannot breathe

She swiped at the Hand, but there was nothing physically there.  When she told herself this a few times, the weight lifted off her chest and she pushed herself up, gasping and coughing.  She jumped out of the bathtub and pulled the plug, grabbed a towel and darted out of the bathroom.  

She decided that she’d take a bath tomorrow.

~

She dried off and dressed in a nightgown that she was quite fond of and walked silently to her bed, pulling down the covers on one side.  She left the other side folded up, as if waiting for someone, and crawled in, pulling the blankets up to her chin.  

Ashe was sure she would never sleep that night.  The fear of that hand was still so fresh in her mind…but she dozed off in minutes.

That’s not to say that she didn’t have nightmares that night.

In the one that she would remember for years, she was sound asleep.  The sound of someone yawning woke her, and she rolled over and smiled at her snoozing husband.  She leaned over and kissed his forehead and he stirred, opening his eyes and smiling.  

“I miss you,” he said.

She furrowed her brow, confused.  “What?”

But now Rasler didn’t look so good.  His skin was pale, tinted green with rot, and his eyes were dead and glazed.  He continued to grin at her and there was blood in his teeth, in his mouth, down his chin, and he reached for her, and suddenly he was the hand holding her underwater, and his voice was distorted, choking, gurgling miss you miss you cannot come back to you and she struggled against his hand, splashing, trying to scream but she had no breath cannot come back to you will bring you to me and she screamed and it went black and she

Woke up.

She shrieked, and Vossler was knocking at her door.  “Lady Ashe!” he called.

She coughed and sputtered a bit, and found herself in tears.  She moved to the door and unlocked it, letting her guardian in and letting him hug her.

“Lady Ashe, are you all right?”

“Vossler,” she said.  “I saw Rasler tonight.”

“’Twas only a dream, Lady Ashe,” he muttered.  

Basch was approaching now, his footsteps loud and heavy in the silent palace.  “I heard a scream,” he said.

“I saw Rasler,” she said, but Vossler spoke louder, over her.

“Lady Ashe had a nightmare,” he said firmly.  “About her husband,” he added, looking down at her.  She had pulled away from him and was wringing her hands together, wondering how she was going to go back to sleep tonight.  

Ashe looked to Basch who was staring to the side, his face contorted in pain.  She felt guilty for a moment…Basch had adored Lord Rasler.  He had served as the prince’s protector and military advisor, and evidently somewhat blamed himself for Rasler’s death.  

The guilt soon passed.  Rasler had been her husband, if only for a few weeks, and she had loved him dearly.  “It was frightening,” she said finally, “but I think I shall recover.”  She bowed her head slightly to the men and retreated back into her room, shutting the door with a snap.

She climbed back into bed, glancing suspiciously at the other side of it.  It was still made up.  No one had been there.  No Rasler, no undead prince, no corpse groom.

She closed her eyes and, after a few moments, went back to sleep.  This time, there were no ill dreams.