Chapter 3

The marble of the corridor floor was cool against my bare feet. The walls were hung with tapestries. Oil burning lamps were suspended at regular intervals, filling the air with a smoky redolence. Despite them, it was dim, almost gloomy. High windows along one wall, little more than slits, let in only a dull gray light, as though the day outside were overcast.

"Where are you?"

The voice seemed to come from all around me, quiet and loud at once. It was infinitely familiar, but I could not say whose it was. My mind felt distant from my body, as if a veil of gauze came between them.

"I'm... in a corridor..." I answered. My voice seemed no more than a whisper. "... in a palace, somewhere. There's marble... tapestries... burning lamps..."

"There's a mirror on the wall, next to you," the voice came again. "Look at yourself and tell me what you see."

I hadn't noticed the mirror before, but sure enough, there it was. I turned to look into it. The face that looked back was mine -- high forehead, broad cheekbones, green eyes and wide mouth -- and yet, somehow, different. It was a me from an another reality.

"I see... myself..." I said.

"What are you wearing?"

What was I wearing? I realized that I was totally nude, except for a gold chain around my neck and another around my waist. There were rings on my fingers, and gold loops dangled from my ear lobes. I was elaborately made up, with my eyes brought out with dark liner and my lips heavily rouged. My nipples were rouged as well, standing in sharp contrast to the paler skin of my breasts. My bronze-colored hair was done in elaborate braids, encircling my head like a crown, held in place by a jeweled pin. A diamond glittered at my navel. I looked barbaric, and sexy as hell. Definitely not the usual me.

"Nothing..." I said to the voice. "Jewelry..."

"What are you?"

I thought about it for a moment. "I'm... a dancing girl... in a palace..."

"All right. Now go down the corridor. Where does it take you?"

I followed the corridor, my feet padding along on the cold marble. The corridor seemed very long -- impossibly long. The lamps came one after another overhead, each casting a circle of yellow light, with shadows in between. I walked slowly, patiently, neither hesitating nor rushing. I would get there when I got there.

Abruptly the corridor ended in a pair of large double doors.

"There are doors..." I said.

"Open the doors and go through."

I raised my hand to obey, but the doors swung open before I could touch them. I walked through. The room beyond was immense, and crowded with people. Men and women, dressed in brilliantly colored robes and decked with gold and jewels. Despite all the people, the room was utterly silent. Everyone was waiting. Waiting for me. I continued to walk forward, and the crowd parted before me, closing in behind me as I passed. In spite of my nakedness, I was unembarassed by the eyes on me. A dancing girl is used to being looked at by strangers. I cared nothing for them. There was only one I cared for...

I reached the end of the crowd. A high dais filled one end of the room, holding a line of guards armed with curved swords, and a richly-decorated throne. A man sat on the throne, a big man with dark, unruly hair. He was dressed plainly, compared to most of those in the room, but there was absolutely no doubt who ruled here. He was looking at me. Not smiling. Not frowning. Waiting.

With a dancer's grace, I sank to my knees and bowed until my forehead touched the floor. Then I looked up, smiling joyfully, glad that I had arrived at last at the place I had always been seeking.

"I'm here for you now," I told him. "Richard."

He smiled at last, and held out his hand to me.

It was dark. For a minute I was totally disoriented. I was lying in my bed at the dorm, body tangled in the bedclothes, bathed in sweat. As I blinked in confusion, I became aware of a streetlight shining in through the window, the dark shadow of my desk bulking in the corner of the room. It had been a dream. Only a dream.

I sighed and let myself sag back onto the pillow. I'd had dreams and fantasies like that for years -- ever since I'd hit puberty -- but that was the most vivid that I could recall. And despite the total absence of any actual sex, the most vividly erotic. I could feel my pussy tingling; I knew I was wet. My nipples were tautly erect, rubbing almost painfully against the t-shirt I'd worn to bed.