The door opened again, this time fully. The page stepped into the hall and gestured for her to enter. “They are ready for you, Dr. Aldaba.”
Her stomach lurched, but this time she merely nodded to the page with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Thank you,” she said, her voice steady and strong despite the butterflies rioting in her gut.
She walked in.
If all went well, she would walk out into a new future.
“Members of Parliament,” she said, once she stood beside the interview seat. She had settled on that form of address after practicing every single acceptable salutation listed in Cyrano’s official protocols. Giving the appropriate formal bow, she added, “I am honored to be here before you today.”
She sat in the provided chair. It had a plain wood frame and legs, with leather cushions studded onto its seat and backrest. To its left sat a small side table, set with a microphone and a bottle of water.
Years of declining invitations and losing friendships for the sake of study flashed through her mind—as well as the exhaustion of her constant efforts to cultivate her academic image. To get here had required near-continuous drive, laser-like focus, and every ounce of passion she had. She had lived with singular tunnel vision, blocking out the rest of the world, for this moment.
And then the vetting began.
Two hours later the open question session ended, followed by a five-minute break before the voting.
Silence and time stretched on while Mina waited, stiff-backed, wrung-out, and entirely at their mercy.
Five minutes and an entire lifetime later, Parliament returned and the vote began. First, in the far upper right of the assembly, a green light flickered on. Then, in the middle of the room, another. Then, like a sea of green gently flashing to life, every light in the room turned green.
A tingling sensation filled her body, running the length of her skin and making her feel as weightless as if she were flying through thin, icy air, with the wind brushing against her skin, her mind scattered and light.
She had done it. She had just been appointed advisor to the King of Cyrano.
The prime minister stood and the rest of the people in the room rose from their seats, Mina included.
“Congratulations, Dr. Aldaba,” he said. “Your appointment has been approved. We know you will be a credit to Cyrano and advise our King wisely.”
There was no stopping the wide smile that broke across her face as she bowed, saying, “Thank you, Members of Parliament, it will be my honor to serve.”
In her mind, she screamed,We did it, Papa!
And then the thick antique door came crashing inward, slamming onto the tiled floor with an earsplitting crack.
Men in riot gear rushed into the room—a wave of Kevlar and gunmetal-gray that tackled Mina to the ground before she could suck in enough air to scream.
An officer yanked her arms back, pressed a knee into her spine, and secured zip ties around her wrists and ankles.
“What is the meaning of this?” the prime minister demanded. “You cannot barge into Parliament like this!”
One of the officers responded, “King’s business, sir.”
Another representative shouted, “Excuse you! This is the House of Parliament. Our business takes precedence here!”
Even so, Mina was lifted none too gently and trundled away from the nightmare that her greatest dream had become.
After a dizzying series of twisting hallways and stone passageways, she and her captors arrived at their destination. At least, she deduced it was their destination when they deposited her on the floor in front of another large wooden door, this one just as thick, but humble compared to the door of Parliament. They cut her free from the zip ties.
“You are to go inside,” one of the men in riot gear said.
Mina stood, did her best to straighten herself out, and reached a shaking hand out to touch the door. When her fingers touched wood, it was as if the world turned over. Her heart tumbled with the sense that a different reality lay on the other side.
Sucking in a slight gasp of air against sudden vertigo, she pressed her palm against the door. It slid open silently at the slight pressure of her hand, revealing an intimate room. The scent of fading incense filled her nostrils as her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside.
A red-carpeted center aisle with pews along either side led to a slightly raised dais in front of an ornate altar. As the image came into focus the details coalesced in Mina’s mind: flickering candles, thick velvet, pews... She was in one of the castle’s many chapels.
A cluster of figures stood on and below the dais, and they were all staring at her.