Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 113

Chapter 113: Stay out of my personal bubble
Anaisa’s skin crawled as Denolm’s arm around her kept its place. She’d tried to subtly wriggle away from him, but after her last plunge towards the hard marble floor had resulted in a twisted ankle, she thought better of attempting a second escape.

She darted a glance toward Trace, but apparently he thought that coming to her aid right now would be inappropriate. Perhaps he was right.

Anaisa turned toward the king. She wanted to protest inviting Denholm to tea, but there was no way to do so without making the princess look like an ungrateful brat. After all, he had caught her and prevented worse injury.

Her ankle throbbed. Badly. The pain of it made her feel a little faint, but she held firmly to consciousness.

If she didn’t know better, she would say that the suitor had intentionally angled her to fall in a way that would twist it. But that was absurd, wasn’t it?

Unless… She frowned. Out of all the overeager suitors of the evening, none had been so forward. As soon as she gave even a hint of chastisement, they backed off. And why would he have proposed to her instead of to the king?

He must have been intentionally making her uncomfortable, knowing that she would have to shove him away when he grabbed her closer… So that Denholm could catch her.

She shuddered as her revulsion deepened, but the yellow-and-green clad man smiled as if he thought she was shivering from the pleasure of being in his arms. It made her want to vomit. Angry tears clouded her vision, and she realized that it would make her injury seem worse than it was.

Perhaps she could use that. Sending a pleading look at the king, she finally received a response close to what she wanted.

“Very well, I will have the invitation formalized.” The king smiled tolerantly at Denholm. “Now, if you don’t mind, please unhand the princess. Everyone is still watching and her reputation should not be tarnished by having a stranger’s arms around her for so long. Her bodyguard will take her from you and see that she gets medical attention for her injury.”

Trace stepped forward out of the crowd, and Anaisa nearly fainted with relief, until Denholm murmured beside her.

“Ah, a bodyguard in disguise. And here I thought I might have had some real competition for your affection, Princess. This is welcome news.” He smiled at Trace and raised his voice a little. “Do make sure she’s taken care of. Her tumble seems to have disoriented her a bit.”

Trace’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and he simply nodded at Denholm before turning to Anaisa.

“Can you walk, Your Highness? How badly are you injured?” He asked, and she grimaced.

“It hurts,” She said simply. Apparently that was all her husband needed to hear. Summarily, he removed Denholm’s hold and lifted Anaisa–voluminous skirts and all–into his arms and cradled her against his chest.

He strode from the room, and Anaisa could hear all manner of whispers behind her. She ignored them, too overwhelmed at being in Trace’s embrace.

“Did he do it on purpose?” Her husband ground out through his teeth.

“The man who fell with me? I think so. And I think Denholm orchestrated it.” She groused softly.

“Who?” Trace looked at her with surprise.

“Denholm. The man in yellow and green. Barnabas’s son.” She explained with a whisper and a shake of her head. “He’s been awful since we were little, though at least I rarely had to be around him.”

Trace blinked several times, and turned the corner toward the princess’s chambers, climbing the stairs. A group of guards followed them a short way and then barred the hall to make sure no curious guests followed the pair on the way back to her rooms.

A servant ran to get the doctor. Anaisa was distracted by Trace’s ability to carry her up stairs so easily, as if she weighed nothing at all.

“I’m sorry.” Trace frowned. “I failed to protect you well. You were injured because I was unable to stop it.”

“It’s only a minor injury. I’m sure I will be fine tomorrow,” Anaisa yawned. “And it did give me an excuse to stop dancing. Perhaps I should thank the loathsome man.”

Trace’s steps slowed, and he looked at Anaisa. She’d wound her arms around his neck to make it easier for him to carry her. They were nearly nose to nose now, and alone in the hallway. Her heartbeat quickened.

“I can’t say I’m upset about the opportunity to carry you,” He whispered. Anaisa’s heart thudded so loudly he must be able to hear it. Moving one of her hands up to the back of his head, she paused, remembering how she’d shamelessly pulled his head down for a kiss in that dream…

She pulled the ribbon that held his mask in place, letting the accessory fall into her lap while Trace blinked in confusion at her.

“There, that’s better,” She grinned, “Now I’ll be able to tell better when you’re teasing me.”

He eyed her seriously for a moment before a smile broke through. “I would never tease you.”

“And I would never throw you off a cliff,” Anaisa quirked an eyebrow, causing Trace to chuckle.

When they reached the princess’s chambers, he laid her gingerly on the couch. She shivered as he withdrew, letting her arms reluctantly slide from around his neck.

She had to remind herself more and more often that he still held secrets back from her. She still couldn’t trust him completely, however tempting that was. They stared at each other a moment in the dimness of the room. It was illuminated mainly by the fire a servant had lit in the fireplace in preparation for the princess’s return from the ball.

The atmosphere was homey. Intimate. It reminded Anaisa of their first night of marriage, drying together from the rain in front of the fire that he built for them. How differently she felt about the man now than she had then.

“Are you hurt terribly?” Trace swallowed and turned to light a lamp. “I’m sure the doctor will be here soon.”

“I’ll be all right,” Anaisa bit her lip for a moment before continuing. “May I ask a question?”

Trace tensed, and she hesitated.

“I will answer any of your questions that I’m able to,” He answered after a moment, emboldening her.

“Is the scheming done now? Can we go home?”