THE king in the castle

 

Some places are difficult to reach.

Others are impossible.

There is a distinction.

Usually.

 

Cassandra is about to make that

distinction somewhat inconvenient.

Not deliberately.

For once.

 

She has no idea where she is going.

Neither, I should add, does she have an

invitation.

This may become relevant.

Because wherever she is about to

arrive, someone is waiting.

Not for her.

 

He is very accustomed to order.

Rules.

Things being exactly where they are

supposed to be.

People included.

He is also very accustomed to being

obeyed.

Cassandra, as you may have noticed,

is not.

This should go well.

The King in the Castle

 

I tried to open my eyes very slowly, but

the whole world moved too fast around

me.

So I had no choice but to close them

again.

Dizzy. Completely disoriented.

 

It felt very similar to fainting, except the

last thing I remembered was some kind

of swirl around me.

Something was off.

I could feel it.

There was nothing familiar left to hold

on to.

No street noise. No clock. No ordinary

sound that could tell me where I was or

how long I had been gone.

For a moment, I tried to remember the

last thing I had touched before the

swirl took me.

Even that memory seemed to move

away.

 

I opened my eyes again, slowly this

time, and the room around me began

to stabilise.

Except it was not a room.

It was a vast hall.

Grey marble pillars rose towards a

ceiling higher than any I had ever seen,

covered in strange ornaments. A wide

staircase disappeared into the

shadows along one side of the hall.

And somewhere at the far end stood a

throne of sorts.

A massive chair made from dark wood.

 

The man sitting on it slowly stood and

walked towards me.

When he spoke, his voice was powerful.

“Who are you, and what do you want

here? It is forbidden for mortals to seek

these halls.”

He came closer, his eyes fixed directly

on mine.

His face was stern.

It was obvious he did not want me here.

“What the…” I muttered.

His face came closer to mine.

“I asked you a question, mortal. How

did you manage to come here? It is

forbidden.”

Impatience had entered his voice.

I tried to hold on to my composure.

 

I did not know where I was or what this

place was.

For now, that frightened me more than

he did.

He wore a black robe, and I could not

quite place his age. He looked young,

but grey strands ran through his hair.

His face was sharp, though not in a

way that made him look old or

threatening.

More composed, somehow.

 

Nevertheless, he clearly wasn't pleased

to see me.

So I assumed he had not brought me

here.

Which led to the obvious conclusion.

I needed to get away.

 

“I do not even know where I am.”

He did not move or answer.

“And I am not here because I want to

be.”

Still nothing.

“I am leaving. So where is the door?”

My voice was calm, but there was

defiance underneath it.

 

His eyes narrowed.

“There is no door. I decide when you

leave.”

That was not what I wanted to hear.

Absolutely not.

“I leave.”

I held his gaze and did not move an

inch.

 

“You claim you do not know how you

got here. Yet here you are. That is an

unforeseen anomaly. A serious one.”

His voice remained calm, but

something beneath it had changed.

“I need to investigate how a mortal

could have done this. You stay.”

 

Something cold moved through me.

Not fear of him exactly.

Fear of being somewhere I had not

chosen, under rules I did not

understand, with no clear way back.

I knew that feeling.

I had met it before.

And I had never liked what it tried to

make of me.

 

“No. You bring me back.”

A beat passed between us.

“Look, I do not know whether this is a

dream, a hallucination or a very

strange place in the universe. It does

not matter. You bring me back.”

My eyes stayed on his.

“Immediately.”

I was no longer asking.

 

For a brief second, I thought he might

strike me down with thunder.

Instead, he drew in a sharp breath.

“I have already explained the rule.

I need to investigate the matter. It

might threaten the fabric of reality

itself.”

I could not believe what I was hearing.

But he looked serious.

Very serious.

 

Nevertheless, I needed to get out of

here.

“You stay,” he repeated.

Something almost resembling irritation

crossed his face.

“As much as you do not like it, I do not

like it either. I hate distractions.”

 

I drew in a breath.

Arguing was getting us nowhere.

Not yet, at least.

So I weighed my options.

Whatever this was, I did not

understand it.

For now, that was my biggest problem.

 

“Alright. Let’s figure this out.”

I studied him carefully.

“I saw some kind of swirl, and then I was

here. It was not me, and you say it was

not you.”

There was no sign of deception in his

face.

Which did not mean there was none.

Maybe I simply could not see it.

 

The smallest movement appeared

around his mouth.

“Not me, for sure. Which makes it even

more dangerous.”

His eyes sharpened.

“Who sent you here?”

Now it sounded like an interrogation.

 

“Look, no one sent me. I did not choose

this. As I have told you twice already.”

My temper was beginning to rise.

“I should not be here. Fine. I do not

want to be here. At all. Send me home,

and it is done. No questions asked. All

is good.”

He took one step away.

“You mortals. You have no idea.”

His expression hardened.

“But maybe I expect too much. I told

you what is at stake. So ‘all is good’ is

not the appropriate answer.”

A brief pause.

 

“Do you know where you are? Or who I

am?”

That was enough.

“No. And actually, I do not care.”

His eyes remained fixed on mine.

“Look, I have had a couple of very

interesting experiences in my life, and I

am sorry I did not recognise the

majesty of reality himself, or whatever

this is." I looked at him. 

“But I will tell you something.

Yes, I am mortal. That does not

mean I am stupid.”

He held my gaze.

 

“You make the rules here, it seems. Fine.

I am sure you can find a way to do

whatever you need to do without

requiring me to remain here.”

One eyebrow rose.

For a while, he said nothing.

 

“You are not scared,” he finally

observed.

Then his attention sharpened, as

though he were seeing me differently

for the first time.

“That is uncommon.”

He came a little closer.

“I will not change the rules. They are

there for a reason. They need to remain

intact.”

His voice was calm, restrained.

 

I closed my eyes for a second.

“So they can be changed.

You just do not want to.”

My shoulders straightened.

“And I am scared.

Actually, a lot.

But that does not mean I fall to my

knees and beg.”

 

He put his hands behind his back and

fell silent.

“I do not need you to beg. I need you to

follow the rules. It is my responsibility to

ensure that everything remains in the

right order.”

Then, more quietly, “You do not need to

be scared.”

He seemed to mean it.

“Still, I am here and cannot go home.

But it is a relief to hear that you do not

mean to harm me.” I answered.

He nodded slowly.

“It remains a violation that you are

here. However it occurred.”

I studied him for a moment.

“You said my response was uncommon.

So you know humans. And apparently

they have a certain response to you.”

A pause.

“I assume I am not the first one here.”

His mouth moved slightly.

“There have been others.”

A brief hesitation.

“Invited.”

That was interesting.

And perhaps a way.

 

“I see. An invitation does not create a

reality-crashing scenario, but crashing

into your halls does.”

“Perceptive.” He paused for a moment.

“You had no invitation. That is

something that does not happen.”

 

I moved towards one of the chairs

nearby.

His eyes followed me.

“Well, it did happen, apparently.”

I sat down.

“Maybe someone from your…” My gaze

travelled through the enormous hall. “I

don’t know. Kingdom invited me?”

He shook his head.

“This is not a kingdom, and I am no

king. There is no one else here.”

The throne-like chair stood behind him,

surrounded by pillars and impossible

amounts of empty space.

 

“That is a lot of space for one person.

Do you have guests?”

“Rarely.”

He paused.

“Not uninvited ones.”

I breathed in.

“I know I am uninvited. You don’t have

to keep reminding me. It makes me

uncomfortable and, actually, it lacks

manners.”

“I did not say that. I said I need to

investigate.”

A pause.

“You are not particularly polite either.”

His tone remained completely neutral.

I clenched my jaw.

“Right.”

 

Silence settled between us.

After a while, my curiosity won.

“What do you actually do here,

if I may ask?”

Something changed in his eyes.

Surprise, perhaps.

Only for a fraction of a second.

“Holding structure.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

He said it as though it were nothing

remarkable. 

As though he had answered the

question a million times.

Maybe he had.

For a very long time.

 

The hall seemed different when I looked

at it again.

The pillars.

The impossible ceiling.

All that space held perfectly still

around us.

Then my eyes returned to him.

“I see.”

For a while, neither of us spoke.

“This is a beautiful hall,” I finally said.

His chest rose slightly.

“Thank you.”

Something in his voice had changed.

Barely.

A tiny smile found its way onto my face.

“It truly is.”

He looked at me for a moment.

 

“I am still not sure how you appeared

here.”

“I truly don’t know. The swirl…” I

hesitated. “What could it have been?”

“An anomaly. A fracture in the

structure. But I have found no fracture.”

“That means nothing was ruptured?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“It is better than I thought. It still does

not explain you.”

That was interesting.

Slowly, he moved towards the chair

across from me and sat down.

“Maybe it was simply an accident.”

The smallest twitch appeared around

his mouth.

“There are no accidents here.”

“None?”

“None.”

For the first time, he sounded almost

curious.

“Can you send me back now?”

“I am considering it.”

That was not the answer I had

expected.

There was nothing to say to it, so I

simply nodded.

He remained silent.

Watching me.

Longer than necessary, I thought.

 

“You did not complain,” he said

eventually.

“No.”

I wondered why that surprised him.

Or why, suddenly, I had stopped

wanting to.

 

Our eyes met again.

“But you still want to go back?”

He looked away for a moment.

It was a strange question.

And not a strange question at all.

“Yes,” I said quietly.

His eyes darkened slightly.

“I know.”

A pause.

“You cannot stay here forever. Forever

is something mortals say  without

knowing what it means.”

The words settled between us.

“No,” I said softly. “We don’t.”

His eyes met mine again.

Neither of us looked away.

 

“Yes.”

His voice was rougher now.

Then he stood.

“I will send you home.”

I rose too.

For a moment, we simply stood there.

Neither of us moved.

 

“Maybe you should consider an

invitation,” I said, my voice warmer now.

“It might be nice to come back under

different circumstances.”

He did not answer immediately.

And I did not know why I suddenly

wanted to touch him.

Perhaps because I could see

something now that I had not seen

before.

He was not only the man who kept the

door closed.

He was the man who could never leave

it behind.

 

I reached out and touched his arm with

the tips of my fingers.

Just briefly.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I meant it.

His eyes held mine.

And for a moment, they softened.

Almost.

“I will consider an invitation.”

A pause.

“I agree. It would be fitting.”

I smiled.

He did not.

But something in his face came very

close.

Then the air began to move.

The swirl.

I closed my eyes.

Well.

The Emperor.

Structure.

Order. Responsibility.

The one who holds things together.

Cassandra understands this rather

well.

Including the part people tend to leave

out.

Holding things together requires

someone to do the holding.

And that has a cost.

She knows.

 

Which may explain why the throne was

remarkably unsuccessful.

The man, however...

Ah.

There we are.

Cassandra has never been particularly

impressed by authority for its own sake.

Useful, really.

It saves time.

But show her someone carrying

something quietly and she starts

paying attention.

Especially when she recognises the

weight.

Apparently, recognition works in more

than one direction.

 

Because he was paying attention too.

Quite a lot, actually.

Interesting.

The Emperor is not simply power.

He is structure.

Boundaries that hold.

Responsibility that remains.

Cassandra understands that too.

Perhaps particularly well.

 

Which brings us to the fingertips.

Yes.

Those.

I noticed.

Cassandra does not reach towards

people easily.

I'm not going to make a great

philosophical point about it.

She touched him.

That's enough.

 

Although I will point out that shortly

afterwards, the woman who had been

extremely determined to leave

suggested coming back.

With an invitation.

Obviously, this was a purely

architectural decision.

The hall was beautiful.

 

And our Emperor?

He will consider it.

Of course he will.

Anything else would be alarmingly

spontaneous.

This could be interesting.