Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 440

Chapter 440: Precious Memories
Anaisa held her breath as the memories continued on full display, with the Emperor standing in the very middle of them.

His enormous pupils, too large for his face, narrowed with interest as she and Trace approached the tree for the first time.

When she refused to take any magic for herself, the heavy gaze flickered ever so briefly to the real woman.

Curiosity? Disapproval? At least it wasn’t as murderous as before.

After the initial effort to crush the table, the Emperor had seemingly resigned himself to watch whatever she was going to show him.

Perhaps he had some intuition that she was unable to alter or censor what she was displaying.

If she had a bit more control…!

But she didn’t.

As the final scenes with Barnabas drew closer, she tensed. She didn’t like this. Didn’t want to be here amongst these memories.

Barnabas’s death was bad enough to watch. Throwing his body into the pit made the Emperor tilt his head slightly, but there was no comment.

Anaisa closed her eyes for the next part.

Sanders.

Even thinking his name hurt her still today. He was so much help to everyone in saving the world from Barnabas, but then, overwhelmed with information–

The memory flickered for a moment, laying Sanders’ cry of agony at the excess of information against Mia’s in the forest.

Anaisa’s eyes widened. What was she doing?

The Emperor’s eyes cut over to her, and she blinked, concentrating on remembering.

Painful as it was, she let the story continue. Whether she was making a dire mistake in letting the Emperor see just how much damage the tree had done to human lives, she didn’t know.

Emily’s mournful face as she passed away, reaching out towards her brother, made Anaisa’s eyes flood with tears.

Two beautiful souls were lost that day.

And the tree, the golden tree, withered and dead-looking, left behind. The Emperor’s face darkened with rage… until Anaisa whispered to it. Watered it with the last of her canteen.

“Explain.” The Emperor pointed to her retreating figure, and with concentration, Anaisa was able to pause the memory.

“I didn’t want it to die,” She swallowed. “The magic… it can be used for good, or for evil. It wasn’t the tree’s fault that Barnabas did those things. I was trying to show you the story of Trace’s love and kindness, but I can see you’re less interested in that than in the tree’s role in our kingdom. But, if I may…”

She gestured to the memory, and with concentration, was able to select a rapid succession of her favorite memories that followed.

Trace waking up from his coma and affirming his love for her. The pair of them watching her belly grow large over again with each child, and then holding her sons in her arms.

Daniel’s first steps. Giggles. Joy.

Her boys rushing out the front door of their home to throw their arms around Trace as he came in from working the fields after a long day. Hanging on his arms as he left in the morning.

All her children vying to sit next to her by the fireplace for a bedtime story, only to have Trace declare that he got first dibs on being next to her, and lifting three of the boys out of the way to deposit himself at her side and give her a lingering kiss.

The ensuing tackling by the boys trying to claim places in their parent’s laps instead.

The warmth and love of the six of them snuggled around a storybook by firelight.

She let the memory linger, not wanting to leave it in case she never had any more moments like this.

The Emperor raised a hand as if to shoo away the images, leaving Anaisa with a deep sense of dissatisfaction.

“What do you want then? More of the magic? More of the tree?”

The Emperor gave her a hard stare, clearly evaluating whether she would show him the truth, and if so, if she would show him all of it.

Anaisa was gaining, slowly, a slightly better grasp on how her power worked. If magic was what he wanted to see, then that is what she should show him. He’d already seen most everything that had happened up to leaving the cave, but there was plenty that had happened since that time.

Both good and bad.

She tried to think of every time magic had helped anyone. Had saved anyone. Had been used as Sanders would have wanted, unselfishly and wholesomely.

She pulled up strong memories of Grandpa using bugs to help with the planting, with the harvest, with protecting the crops so they could feed more of their town, and give the gleanings to the poor.

Of him having crickets play lullabies for colicky babies to help them rest better.

Of the kind palace doctor who saved Prince Ewan’s life, and Anaisa’s own, from poison.

Of Mia using her gift to find a little lost girl who had fallen down a well. Grandma amplifying sound to help communicate with the child and coordinate a rescue.

Though Anaisa had no memories of Martin saving Ford’s life, she pulled up Ford’s recounting of the matter.

Ford hiding them from monsters—No!

She was able to shut down the memory partway through. Ford was hiding her husband and family right now. She didn’t want to reveal he had that power!

But it was too late. The Emperor was suspicious. On top of that, she’d made a grave error.

In her haste to close off the memory, she had cut off her power entirely, leaving her and the Emperor standing in his bedchamber once more.

She blinked, a little panicked. What would he do now? Did the information she’d relayed help, in the slightest??

The Emperor stared down at her with baleful eyes, speculation whirling in the narrowed pupils.

“What just happened?” Ben’s whisper at her side made Anaisa flinch.

“What?”

“He stood up, and then you both went still and stared for a long time. What did you do? Did it help at all?”

The Emperor lifted a heavy hand and pointed a finger directly at Anaisa.

“Execution.”