Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 430

Chapter 430: It’s a trap!
Trace woke, opening his eyes to the overly familiar canopy above the Emperor’s bed.

He sneered, not liking the situation at all.

“Trace?” Anaisa asked from beside him. “Are you all right? I was just about to go to sleep and join you, in case it was time…”

He shook his head.

“We have to make a new plan.”

“But why?” His wife’s beautiful eyes widened. “What’s happened?”

Trace stared over to where Mia was also waking up, disoriented from her first time dreaming outside of herself. He understood that it must be an odd sensation.

“I asked Mia to help locate the dreamer, to speed along our next venture into that place.”

“Mia?” Ford was asking with concern, cutting a peculiarly protective glance at Trace. It seemed almost frustrated, and the older man’s brow knit at the implicit challenge to his authority over his niece in Seth’s absence.

“It looks like a trap to me,” Mia rubbed her eyes with her hands. “He’s waiting, just waiting, deep in a chasm. You’d have to go down for ages, or just drop with gravity, to get down there. And then, there’s just him. Nothing else but darkness.”

“I’d rather he be in the middle of a city,” Anaisa murmured. Ben and Sapphira came closer, drawn into the conversation.

“If we’re intending on escaping by waking up, does the location of our parlay matter overmuch?” Ben asked tentatively.

“Change can be good or bad, but it’s always something to be wary of,” Anaisa said firmly. “He’s not destroying people anymore, but the depth of his seclusion is worrisome.”

“Maybe he’s thinking heavily over what I told him before,” Ben said. His words were hopeful, but his tone was not.

“What else makes you think it’s a trap?” Trace said to Mia. “Simply the location, or the fact that he is so still?”

“The distance is so great,” Mia said, “and past a lot of ruins. I… if he wanted to meet with you, wouldn’t he choose a place that was suitable? If he wanted diplomacy, wouldn’t he wait at the edges to welcome you?”

Trace turned over the ideas in his mind, mulling them.

“There are many reasons he might retreat. Perhaps he wants to be alone with his thoughts for now, and does not want us to come until he is ready. It could be that he resents his dreams being invaded by real humans, and wants to be as far away from us as possible… though, he could have built walls between himself and us…”

He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Should we leave him alone with his thoughts, or approach him while he’s calm and… not killing?” Anaisa mused aloud. “Is he processing, or brooding? Preparing for revenge for our invasion of his dreams, or considering our words and weighing their truth?”

“The violence I’ve seen within the dream has been intense, but less widespread than it was before,” Trace squinted, “That could mean that he’s contemplating things on a deeper level of introspection instead of blindly lashing out. We also might have awakened him to a fuller understanding of the fact that he’s currently dreaming.”

“Is that bad?” Ford asked tentatively. “Is he going to try to wake up?”

“I’m throwing all the sleepy sensations I have at him,” Denholm grumbled from nearby. “Underappreciated for my hard work, I am. It’s maddening.”

“You’re working harder at it than before, or just complaining about it more?” Anaisa glanced at him, and he glared back.

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” He huffed.

“Because you’re just being whiny?” Mia rolled her eyes.

“Because your dear uncle cannot control dreams if the Emperor isn’t having them.” Denholm straightened his shoulders. “I’m confident that if any of you took your focus off your hero, Trace, for half a second, you’d realize that he’d have failed without me long ago.

“I’m attempting to be helpful, but your intense prejudice against me prevents any of you from seeing how valuable I really am,” Denholm sighed, perhaps a little dramatically, but Trace felt a small surge of pity for the unloved villain.

“So are you working harder or aren’t you?” Anaisa interrupted.

“I am working my hardest,” Denholm narrowed his eyes. “And while I am exceedingly powerful and awesome in all respects, not even my greatness can hold out forever, so may I politely suggest you hurry your worthless rear ends into gear and solve this world ending crisis so that I never have to see your hideous visages again?”

Trace was unbothered by the dig at their looks. There was no out for Denholm from this. Either the Emperor would take his life, or the royals would complete the execution ordered so long ago. The desperate insults of a desperate man were pitiable.

“Thank you for your answer.” He nodded.

Anaisa turned towards Trace, keeping her voice low.

“I think, if you can stand to sleep anymore right now, it may be best to try to move peace talks along.”

“Perhaps,” Trace conceded. “I can manage to sleep longer. I’ve built up enough fatigue over the past weeks that I have plenty to catch up on.”

“I don’t like that,” Anaisa frowned. “You can have all the sleep you need when we get home.”

“It’ll only be fun if you’re with me,” He lowered his voice, and a slight blush rose from her collar.

“Your Highness, do you feel like a nap?” The former countess raised her tone to a regal one.

“Not particularly, but I suppose there will never be a better time,” Ben grimaced. “I’ve been unsure whether to try to stay awake so that I’m sleepy when the time comes, or try to rest normally so that I can awake immediately if needed.”

“Me too!” Anaisa cried. “I’m never sure about these things, and it also seems too exciting to fall asleep when you think about negotiating a treaty. It’s nerve-wracking, and that’s the hardest time to sleep, isn’t it?”

“Very much,” Ben nodded with a sigh, “but I suppose we should try to do it anyway, with maximum synchronization.”

“You two go ahead,” Trace told them, turning back to face the Emperor. “I can practically fall asleep on command, so I’ll meet you there when you’re both out.”