Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 410

Chapter 410: Big
Mia watched Ford’s face. It was dark, but thankfully uninjured. She squeezed his hand, and his shoulders relaxed a little. He had been unflinchingly glaring at Denholm.

His… brother? Cousin?

She wanted to tell him blood didn’t matter. Love mattered.

The two of them mattered.

Denholm could rot in the wights’ dungeon for all she cared!

Trace had turned to concentrate on the Emperor, whose restlessness had grown. Perhaps because of the all-out brawl that had taken place at the edges of his bed.

Thankfully, the four-poster canopied monstrosity of a piece of furniture was the equivalent of a king-sized bed, even for the enormous Emperor.

That meant they could keep their distance from him… to a point.

Mia almost wanted to descend and wait underneath it, but she didn’t dare. Ford’s volatile emotions rolled off him almost palpably, and she wanted to stay close to steady him.

Hadn’t he done so for her when she was in turmoil?

“You don’t even need to look at him,” She whispered, going on her tiptoes to speak close to Ford’s ear. “You can look at me instead. I’m prettier.”

Ford shot her a glance of quiet surprise, and she raised an eyebrow, driving home her teasing.

Clearly unsure how to respond, Ford shook his head slightly in disbelief about her open flirtation.

“You meant I’m not?” She widened her eyes, acting offended.

Ford reddened. “You know you are.”

That made her smile, proud of herself for being able to distract him from his rage, but his eyes darted back to the villain.

“He called my mother–”

“His opinions are as worthless as he is,” Mia said quickly. Denholm rolled his eyes.

“It’s a quiet room. I can hear you both. Disgusting,” He moaned.

“Don’t start things back up,” Mia warned.

“It would be an interesting fight, neither of us with magic for the time being,” Denholm taunted. “Be a fair fight. Well, as fair as it can be with brat versus breeding.”

Mia looped her arm through Ford’s and hugged it, trying to deter him from taking the bait.

“And then you’d wake the Emperor and we would all die,” She said darkly. “Congratulations on winning an imaginary petty fight a moment before your death.”

“Interesting girl, giving your… boyfriend? Fiance? No, no ring. Of course, you’d be insulted, and rightly so, if he offered you that cheap wooden bauble… but back to my point. Giving Ford a ready excuse to avoid a fight. Afraid he’ll lose? I don’t blame you.”

“You’re a cad,” Mia inhaled deeply. “The fact that you know so much about the ring tells me you likely used the same strategy as your evil father to prey upon women. You should be ashamed.”

Denholm had the audacity to laugh out loud, and Ford tensed.

“Will you keep it down?” Trace’s voice was strained as he shot Denholm a glare.

“And what if I don’t?” The vile man grinned.

“The wight isn’t here.” Trace shrugged just before rope appeared out of thin air to hogtie and gag Denholm.

Mia stared in quiet, yet amused, surprise. She’d never seen Trace’s powers be used in real life!

“Isn’t that a terrible strain on your magic?” She asked her uncle incredulously.

“Yes,” Trace responded tightly. “But worth it for silence from that reprobate.”

“We could break his jaw,” Ford suggested thoughtfully.

“Tempting,” Trace shot a look at Denholm, who glared back and struggled slightly. “Are you going to shut up now?”

Denholm made a show of sighing dramatically and nodding.

The ropes disappeared. Denholm stretched his arms and shoulders with care, then made himself comfortable on the shimmering coverlet.

He lay on his side, propping his head up on one elbow to stare lazily at the group.

“Not very afraid we’re going to hurt him, is he?” Mia observed quietly.

Denholm smirked in response, clearly inviting an attack. It seemed after weeks of boredom with Trace, he was delighted to have any sort of company.

“Your eye is swelling,” She told him, but the only response he received was to carelessly shrug one shoulder.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Ford asked Trace, and Mia turned her attention to her uncle. She would keep half an eye on Denholm, but it seemed for now he would be lazy and compliant with the request for silence.

“Do you have any weapons?” Trace asked, to Mia’s great surprise.

“Weapons?” Ford stood straighter. They had brought mostly-emptied packs, trying to travel lightly and not expecting to spend too much time in the black castle.

“A couple of knives, nothing larger,” Mia frowned. Her father had a sword to defend the horses, but since she, Anaisa, and Ford had little to no experience wielding such a weapon, and didn’t want to be perceived as an invading force anyway, they hadn’t anything substantial.

“Petals,” Ford’s eyes met hers. “We have petals.”

“Petals?” Trace shot them an annoyed glance. “I don’t know what that means, exactly, but you’d better get ready. Something’s about to escape from the dream and I can’t get rid of it without risking the integrity of the entire thing. I’ve done what I can to change it, but…”

Mia and Ford began to back away as sweat dripped off Trace’s brow.

“But what?”

“But it’s big. And it’s going to get out soon.”

“What is it?” Mia drew out her knife and watched as Ford gripped a bag that contained the red blooms. “What is it that’s coming? How do we kill it?”

“I’ve… modified it slightly. Weak spots around the eyes, so if you can cut it there with a strike or two, you should be able to take it down.”

Denholm had tensed, but now stood to his feet with a guarded expression.

“Not another one of those…”

“Yes. A lot like that one.”

“Ugh. I hate those. If it’s got to have antlers, why can’t you let a little deer escape? A venison dinner would suit me well. I’ll go hide until it leaves.”

With that, Denholm hopped down the stairs and apparently scurried under the bed, leaving the other humans to fend for themselves.