Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 162

Chapter 162: At last, the confession
Anaisa’s heart pounded. Trace held her hands gently as he looked into her eyes, and she held her breath.

“Anaisa, I’ve wanted to tell you for some time now, and I hope you already know without me having to say it, but of course to not say it would be unforgivably cowardly, so bear with me.”

She nodded, staying silent as he glanced off to one side to gather his thoughts.

“You know I’ve thought you were beautiful since the moment I laid eyes on you, that I’ve always intended to make the best of this marriage, from before I knew who you really were,” He grimaced slightly. “Who you are. And it’s hard to think about the fact that, if we succeed in breaking Oakdown’s hold on the king, saving Sapphira, and rescuing the kingdom, you’ll be far beyond my social reach. Able to leave me, if you wish.”

He paused, and Anaisa didn’t know if he wanted her to speak, to deny it, or to comfort him that she wasn’t going to leave him, no matter what. But right now her mouth was as dry as the rocky soil around them as he offered a quivering smile.

“So, before all that happens, I have to tell you that I love you. I want to be your husband even if it means I have to live in the capital amongst the nobility forever and wear awful, stuffy shirts that make me itch and deal with insufferable, backstabbing politicians. Of course, my preference is to take you home, and to live on our farm,”

“Our farm,” She whispered. Even when she’d thought herself nothing at all, Trace had still considered everything he had to be hers as well. Her eyes began to fill with tears.

“Yes, ours.” He nodded. “Everything I have, even myself, is yours. And whether you have nothing of your own, or more than I can fathom, my greatest desire is to have no caveats on our marriage. No ‘we’re married, but’. I just want you to be my wife, in the fullest and most beautiful sense of the word.”

Anaisa took a shaky breath. She felt crazy. Utterly insane, as if she were hallucinating all of this simply because she desired it so much. Had her mind broken under the strain of it all, and just given her what she wanted to see?

“Are you sure?” She finally asked. Anaisa knew how flawed she was. Her temper, her trauma and anger and desire for revenge against Barnabas, her ongoing grief over so much that never was…

Trace shook his head and squeezed her hands.

“You have to ask that? I’d drop to one knee right now and propose if we weren’t already married.”

“Could you, anyway?” The question was timid, and vulnerable. Trace looked confused for a moment, but nodded. He slowly descended to one knee, and Anaisa held her breath.

The ruggedly beautiful landscape of the reddish rocky hills and canyons made a stunning background for a moment she determined to implant deeply in her memory.

“Anaisa,” Trace started, and then paused. “I haven’t planned this. Maybe I should, and save it for another time, but since we’re not guaranteed to be alone again for the foreseeable future, I’d better just say it all now. Forgive me if it comes out poorly,” His eyes were suddenly anxious. Adorably worried. As if his wife would refuse to marry him.

Anaisa smiled to keep from laughing, and nodded her encouragement for him to continue.

“I love you. I love you more than myself, more than my life. I cannot imagine going on without you. I know that you never consented to be my wife, and I never asked for you to be, but I’m asking now. I want you with me, forever. Will you be mine, to love and cherish for the rest of my days?” Trace swallowed and looked up at her, a nervous smile contrasting with his furrowed brow.

“Yes,” Anaisa nodded, slowly at first, and then eagerly. “I love you, too.”

Trace burst to his feet, picking Anaisa up by her waist and whirling her around. She laughed with joy, and he crushed her into a hug. She clung to him, eager to feel his strong form against her own.

Her husband. Her husband who loved her. Tears of joy filled her eyes as he drew back to look at her. Lovingly. He brushed a strand of hair back from her face and leaned his head towards hers.

Eagerly, impatiently, she lifted her chin to meet his lips with her own, when an echo filled the gorge below.

“Ash! Where’d you go?”

In a smooth motion, Trace pulled them both to the ground, using his body to cushion hers before rolling so that they could be as flat and invisible as possible.

They hadn’t been particularly close to the edge, but there was no telling just from the sound exactly where the voice was coming from.

Trace pressed a warning hand against the small of Anaisa’s back and then scooted himself closer to the edge to peer over.

He shot a contemplative look back at his wife, as if asking her permission to move forward with whatever plan was formulating in his mind.

She nodded, once. Trace smiled back and took a deep breath.

“Up here!” He shouted in a surprisingly decent impression of the unconscious man’s voice. “I got that ram, but I can’t get him down! Come help me!”

Trace waved one arm, quickly enough to catch someone’s eye but not enough for anyone to be exactly sure of what they’d seen, then he scooted back from the edge.

“What? Where?” The voice from below echoed back.

“There’s a path up the side, you’ll find it!” Trace called, “Hurry–thing’s not dead yet and tryin’ to get away!”

The echoing of the gorge’s walls would help disguise any discrepancies in Trace’s imitation of the man he’d knocked out.

“What do we do when he gets up here?” Anaisa whispered as Trace moved back towards her.

He grimaced. “Um… I hadn’t figured that out just yet.”