Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 133

Chapter 133: Waiting is the worst
Trace lingered in the sitting room, hearing the bustling sounds indicating the women were awake, but not having seen any sign of them just yet.

He’d woken this morning with strongly mixed emotions. Dejection and frustration at how he’d failed to give Anaisa even a single hint as to any of the information she wanted to know. He took a deep breath and ran one hand through his hair, waiting.

The other part of him was delirious with joy over the free, joyful, fervent way Anaisa had kissed him. It made his heart beat faster just thinking of the memory. And yet… he hadn’t seen her since waking.

The last time they had kissed in a dream, she sequestered herself in her room for days. Granted, she’d been poisoned and had needed to recover, but he still worried the longer she took to emerge.

Normally, she was out long before now. Was she avoiding him?

No, he could hear the occasional muffled sounds of conversation. She must be comforting Sapphira since today the princess would find out who she was to marry. That was likely the source of the delay.

It couldn’t be that Anaisa regretted kissing him again.

He cringed. Their first kiss had been at her behest, to make her forget the turmoil of being told her father was a fake. Their second, now, had been in an effort to make him tell her what she wanted to know.

Was that wrong? He wanted her to kiss him because she merely wanted to, not because of any other purpose.

Time. Time would right all the wrongs. Wouldn’t it?

Unless Oakdown succeeded in taking over, and then used the magical tree for whatever nefarious purposes he had planned.

Eventually, the door from the princess’s chamber opened, and the two women came out to the sitting room. He leapt to his feet respectfully and gave a stiff bow.

“You both are looking nice today,” He complimented them mildly.

Anaisa’s face colored slightly, and Sapphira shot a sly glance between the two of them. His brow furrowed slightly as he wondered what the pair had been talking about.

“Thank you, Trace,” Sapphira answered for them both with a haughty air that quickly crumbled into turmoil. “Ugh, I cannot eat! Has Father come yet? He said he would!”

“No one has been here except to bring the breakfast tray as usual,” Trace answered sympathetically. “I’m sure it won’t be long.”

“Try and eat a little,” Anaisa encouraged. “It’ll help settle your nerves.”

“Nothing can settle them. If I eat a bite I’m convinced it would come back up immediately,” Sapphira lamented.

Trace was torn between his manners and his unwillingness to let food go to waste. His stomach growled, and he frowned.

“You two, please, eat. You shouldn’t suffer on my account,” The princess wailed with her face in her hands.

The couple exchanged a mildly surprised glance. Trace suppressed a chuckle at how much the spoiled young woman had changed, and yet remained the same. Even though she was still rather spoiled and a bit melodramatic, she now thought of others in addition to herself.

Trace didn’t wait for his stomach to growl again. He made himself a plate while Anaisa coaxed the princess to at least drink something if she steadfastly refused to eat.

Before long, Sapphira rose to begin pacing. Trace was tempted to ask, but Anaisa shook her head at him subtly. So he left the princess to her anxious walking back and forth.

It was nearly an hour before the king’s official knock came at the door. Sapphira froze, and then raced to the door, and then fled to the far end of the room. Trace’s eyebrows nearly reached his hairline, but he excused the behavior as a nervous reaction.

The bodyguard opened the door for King Harold to stride in. He glanced about regally, nodding at Anaisa as she curtsied, and frowned slightly as he spotted Sapphira in the far corner.

“Will you not greet me? Do you despise me so?” He asked of her.

“I’m terrified,” She straightened her shoulders, “That you have come here to turn my life upside down.”

“No matter who you marry, your life will remain primarily the same,” He shook his head, and Trace saw Anaisa flinch at the mistruth. “However, in my love for you, and in my benevolence, I have decided to give you a choice between two finalists whom I have picked.”

Sapphira lifted her head, and Trace could see the curiosity overcoming her. “Truly?”

King Harold nodded. “I have invited both for a final interview with you this morning. You may speak with them alone, if you wish, though of course chaperoned by your bodyguard,” He gestured to Trace. “Your companion, I think, should be known only to the man you eventually marry. There is no need for others to know you have a look-alike in the palace.

“As you are doing that, I will meet with each of their families separately, and let them say anything they believe would set their son apart from others as being particularly suited to the role of your husband. Sometimes subjects feel these matters are too delicate to bring up in front of the bride, and understandably so, I suppose.” The king concluded.

“What purpose will that serve, if the choice is mine?” Sapphira’s eyes narrowed.

“It is your choice, but I do hope you will take my advice into account. I believe a wise person would like all available information to make an informed decision on the subject. It is a lifelong commitment.” King Harold eyed his daughter, waiting for her to snap back at him.

“Then why are we rushing it? Why do I have to choose so quickly?” Sapphira protested.

“The threat of your kidnapping… frightened me.” The king’s face showed a flash of concern. “I would see you settled and bearing heirs as soon as possible for your safety and for the stability of the kingdom. Now. Are you ready? The candidates have already arrived at the palace and await your audience.”

“And who, pray tell, are my two choices?” The princess asked slowly.