Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 142

Chapter 142: You’re fired
Anaisa listened from around the corner, and nearly slapped her hands over her mouth when the king dismissed Trace.

“Sire? Leave you? When—” Trace sounded distressed.

“I told you to leave. I don’t care where you go. To live in a hovel a hundred miles away, it doesn’t matter. Thank you for your service.” King Harold said resolutely.

Anaisa’s mind raced. There was a reference to guarding the princess in the note she’d handed the king. He must have figured out that Trace was involved in Barnabas’s plot and wanted one less person under the Count’s thrall around.

Part of her mind screamed in protest–Trace would do anything to help if he could!–and the other part was relieved that he might soon be out of the line of fire.

“But Sire,” Trace tried again. He stopped. Anaisa peeked around the corner. Everyone else must have gone into the room already; only the king, Trace, and the guards were visible in the hallway.

“I know the doctor’s been treating that injury of yours,” The king said, confusing her. What injury did Trace have? “You may stop and see him and take a bundle of medicine with you. But be sure to treat it carefully as it is fragile. Be gone before this meeting is over, I want to be able to move new servants in as soon as possible.”

Trace was silent, looking bewildered, but nodded, and the king went into the room with the others and shut the door behind him.

As soon as he did, Anaisa raced out, grabbed Trace’s hand, and pulled him swiftly down the hall and into Sapphira’s chambers.

“Hurry, pack,” She urged, taking out a piece of paper and scribbling a note to the princess.

“Sapphira,

I’m sorry, I have to go. Everything I told you… I’ll find a way to stop it, but I have to leave for now. I’m not abandoning you!

-Annie”

Taking the paper, she went and put it underneath the princess’s pillow, where no one else would find it. A wave of guilt overwhelmed her, but there was no other way! She rushed back out into the main room, stuffing things into a bag and cursing the time left.

“I don’t understand.” Trace said, though he finished packing and slung the bag over his shoulder.

“You said in your note that you could break the commands by getting far enough away,” Anaisa told him. “The king is trying to get you far enough away, and he wants us to convince the doctor to let us take a bundle–the little prince–with us.”

“What note—you found it??” Trace’s voice lowered.

“I found it and gave it to the king, but it seems the warning was too late.” Anaisa wanted to cry. If she’d found it sooner, figured things out faster, done anything better–

Trace grabbed her arm and spun her into a hug. She froze. He’d never held her this closely for real, and yet, it seemed like he had a hundred times.

“The burden of not being able to tell you was so…” He choked on the words.

“I know. We can discuss that all later. Right now we have to move. The king will keep them occupied, but we have to go quickly. Can Sanders be convinced to run away with us, or is he commanded to stay?” She asked.

“I’m not sure what all his direct commands are, but we can try,” Trace’s eyebrows drew together. “The prince is most important, however.”

“Will the doctor believe us?” Anaisa fretted. “If Sanders can help us convince him…”

Trace stared a moment, and then nodded slightly. “Let’s go.”

To run in the palace was not something that would go unnoticed, but the pair set off as expediently as they dared.

Sanders was in his office, and looked at them with a morose expression as they entered.

“I’m sorry. He directly asked after the queen’s health. I had to tell him the doctor was using his powers to keep her asleep for healing. It must have given him the opening he needed…” Sanders trailed off.

“That was unusually direct for you,” Anaisa blinked in confusion.

“I have not been to sleep to watch, but he must have had to give many commands to the king. His hold is not so strong as it was. He will try to strengthen it by killing you, Trace.” Sanders warned.

“Not you?” Anaisa frowned at the man, not liking the fact that her husband’s life was suddenly so disposable.

“Useful people are rarely killed, so long as they are needed.” Sanders’ forehead wrinkled as he slipped back into his more obtuse way of speaking.

“… if he’s going to create more magic users, he will need someone to monitor them.” She realized, turning to Trace. “But dreams are less important to him now that they have accomplished their purpose.”

“We’re leaving,” Trace said to Sanders. “Come with us.”

“You know why I cannot.” He smiled sadly.

“I’ll save her,” Trace sighed. “I’ll keep her safe. Please come with us.”

“You won’t find her before his men would torture or kill her.” Sanders sighed.

“Then at least convince the doctor to help us,” Anaisa begged, and the older man sighed, then nodded.

“I will do what I can. I did not tell about… the other thing the doctor is doing.”

Anaisa’s heart flooded with relief that Barnabas didn’t know about the little prince. Still, they needed to act as quickly as possible. The trio made their way at as inconspicuous a pace as they could manage to the queen’s chambers.

The guards at the door looked stoically dedicated to their task of keeping everyone out, and Anaisa took a deep breath. If she was confident enough, perhaps they wouldn’t notice her clothing. She handed her things to Trace and removed the scarf around her hair, then strode forward with a stormcloud on her face.

“Move aside, immediately! Father sent me to check on my stepmother, and anyone who stands in my way will be beheaded by sunrise!”