Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 200

Chapter 200: Capital
It took a week for them to get back to the capital. Trace didn’t wake, nor did any of the other natural magic users.

The people who had gotten their powers from the jewels of the tree had no magic within them. Trace’s parents and brother, despite their worry for the man, had to head home to their respective farms, promising they would check on his property as well.

Anaisa, in turn, promised to send them word as soon as Trace woke up… if he woke up.

She wasn’t sure if watering the tree before she left did any good. Whether it would come back to life and bloom again, or finish dying and rot there, alone in the cave. The king decided to send crews to collapse the cave entrances so that no one could bother the tree again, whether it lived or not. The troops were sworn to secrecy about the matter under penalty of treason.

It seemed the best course of action, given what had arisen since it was discovered.

Every morning, Anaisa woke up disappointed that Trace hadn’t visited her dreams. She wasn’t sure if he could. She dribbled water and broth into his mouth and urged him to swallow, desperate to keep him alive.

At night, she slept beside his medical cot, holding one of his hands in hers, determined to be the first one to know if he awakened.

He didn’t. Nor did the doctor, nor Deborah. A nursing mother from the nearest town was hired at great expense to keep little Ewan fed on the way back to the palace.

The royal party reentered the capital in mixed spirits.

On one hand, the threats to the kingdom’s sovereignty and stability had been eliminated. Peace could reign again. A healthy heir to the throne was thriving. There was much to be thankful for.

On the other hand, worry for the three magic users who had yet to wake up marred the happiness of the party, as did the memory of Emily’s sacrifice. She must have been hit the most directly with the blast of her own powers, although until an autopsy was performed, they wouldn’t know for sure. Perhaps not even then.

Sanders’ body, as well, had been brought back.

The fact that he had gone mad in the end did not negate the service he had done in helping bring Barnabas down.

The king had decided Sanders was to have a funeral befitting his station, though there would be fewer mourners than there should. A notable seat would be left empty in the place where family should sit.

Anaisa’s first order of business once Trace was settled, unconscious, in chambers set aside for him within the palace, was to visit Sapphira.

The princess was thin, and pale, and it hurt Anaisa’s heart.

At the sight of her former maid, however, Sapphira bloomed.

“Annie!”

The women embraced fiercely, both desperate to make sure the other was all right.

“I’m so sorry–” Anaisa began.

“You left without a word!” Sapphira interrupted, pulling back to look at her.

“I had to, to stop him–”

“You could have been killed!”

“I almost was, but–”

“Trace! Is Trace all right? The others? They told me Denholm was taken–” Sapphira’s eyes sparked with hatred.

“Your father is going to order his execution,” Anaisa drew the younger woman into another hug.

“Is it truly over, then?” Tears leaked from Sapphira’s eyes.

“It’s over,” Anaisa whispered.

She didn’t burden the younger woman with the grief or trauma of the journey, nor the pain of Emily’s death and Sanders’ betrayal. Sapphira had burdens enough of her own to bear from the fear and psychological abuses Denholm had wrought.

Thankfully, nothing that couldn’t heal.

A private naming ceremony for the young prince was held, paired with a royal edict formally condemning Denholm and Conlan to death for their roles in the plot to take down the kingdom.

It was rather shocking to the general populace that a man so recently celebrated as the beloved fiance of the princess was now set to be executed as a traitor.

Especially given that the announcement was paired with Anaisa and Katia’s resumption of their rightful places as the heirs of the estate of Oakdown.

Anaisa sent a letter to Katia, expecting some shock and resistance about uprooting her new life, but Anaisa insisted her sister and Jin should move into the manor, at least for the time being. Their child could be born amongst all the medical resources the capital could offer.

Especially, if the doctor should awaken.

Three days, and a thousand tiny problems and tasks later, King Harold arranged the formal promotion of Ben’s station for his bravery in spreading the news of Barnabas’s treachery. It was his rumors that had given Anaisa and Trace the foothold with the army to turn them against the traitor in the cave.

And given the way he smiled at Sapphira throughout the ceremony, and the princess’s blushes, it would not be too long before another announcement concerning the handsome young noble came about.

Anaisa had been delaying her own formal reinstatement, hoping Trace would wake up for it, but his endless sleep continued.

But finally, the king could delay no longer. The station must be officially filled, and Anaisa consented to stand for the proceedings, representing both sisters.

A fine gown was made, and Sapphira’s hairdressers and staff were loaned to the woman to make her stunning.

Reluctant to leave Trace behind, she left him in the care of the best nurses, with strict instructions to fetch her if the slightest thing about his state should change.

As she came to the entrance of the ballroom where she’d once masqueraded as a princess, a thousand feelings swept through her.

That night was awful in many ways, but she missed one very important thing about it.

Being in Trace’s arms.

“Are you ready?” The king asked, stepping up beside her.

“I think so, but,” Anaisa hesitated before forcing herself to plunge forward. “The name ‘Oakdown’ has so much perfidy attached to it after the last two Counts bearing it have betrayed the crown. Would it be all right if we changed it?”