Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 51

Window sills
Trace followed Anaisa up the stairs to the next faux window, where an unlit candle sat. He drew up the picture in his mind from Yemi’s dream, laying it against what he saw now.

Of course, dreams were almost never exact, and it was still possible that this entire search would be fruitless, but he had to try. If Anaisa’s guess was right that Yemi had a partner, they must have a way of getting messages to each other without being seen. This was as good a guess as any as to how they accomplished the feat.

Anaisa began tugging at the stones as he did the same, beginning at either end and working toward the center. She seemed uncertain how hard to pull, watching him and trying to gauge how much effort to put into it.

On the next one, she leaned back and yanked.

“Oh!” She cried lightly as it came loose in her hand, causing her to stumble backwards a stair. Her outcry was accompanied by the rustling of paper as something drifted to the ground. Trace’s eyes widened, and Anaisa stared at him, her candle in one hand, the stone she’d just pulled from the sill in the other.

He ducked down and groped in the shadows for the paper. This was too good to be true. Wasn’t it?

He opened it and Anaisa brought her candle closer. He was too eager to read to care about whether or not she should be seeing it.

“There is a double we can switch at the ball. I will mark the real Princess with a tinge of gold at the base of her hair so that you can be sure to take the right woman. Do not let her go until the ransom is complete, no matter what.”

The note was short and simple. Direct. But ominous.

“Someone’s going to kidnap Sapphira,” Anaisa gasped. “What will we do?”

“What we are supposed to,” Trace said thoughtfully. “Report this to the king. We obviously cannot let this plot move forward.”

“And the blackmailer will be satisfied?” His wife asked skeptically.

“That, I don’t know, but once I have given the king this, perhaps I can tell him… not everything, but enough to garner some help. No king would want a blackmailer in his kingdom, would he?” Trace wasn’t sure, but it was the best plan he had at the moment.

Anaisa nodded slowly, accepting the plan.

“I should get back,” She whispered.

“Won’t you get in trouble without the oil?” Trace frowned.

“I still don’t know where it is, and I’m not willing to wake anyone to ask them while wearing my nightdress.” She frowned as she put the displaced stone in its original resting place. “Perhaps the spoiled brat has gone to sleep by now.”

Trace had been so focused on his goal that he hadn’t paid any attention to Anaisa’s attire until she mentioned it. His eyes widened and he averted them.

She was clad in a fine, frilly robe that hugged her figure over the flowy nightdress. It must have been a gift from the princess, for he hadn’t seen it before.

Then again, she was always either behind a curtain or underneath quilts when they went to sleep, and he usually left the room before she got out of bed to give her privacy. He hadn’t seen her like this.

He felt ridiculous for not having noticed sooner, and equally ridiculous for feeling the need to avert his eyes from his own wife. She was, legally, bound to him.

Still, she hadn’t truly, willingly, consented to be his wife, and until she did so, he should be keeping his hands, and his eyes, in check. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

“Do you need me to walk you back?” He asked quietly.

“No, I can probably manage to find my way, better than you could anyway. Or could you? Do you have the entire palace mapped?” Her eyes widened.

Trace suppressed a grin. Her guesses about what skills he was being blackmailed for seemed amusingly optimistic. He wondered if she would be disappointed if she knew the truth.

The thought made him frown, but he set it aside and shook his head. “You’ll be all right, and I suppose we don’t want to be caught together in the middle of the night. Your reputation as an unmarried woman would be ruined.”

Not that he would mind that in the least, except that she would be known as a loose woman open to the advances of others, and that might encourage men of a certain ilk to think they might take advantage of her favors.

“Be safe,” She smiled slightly at the parting words, drawing the robe more tightly around herself as a draft in the stairwell threatened her warmth and her candle.

“You, too,” Trace nodded. He held her gaze for a moment, memorizing how her face looked in the candlelight. Her hair was loose about her, disheveled and glorious. Anaisa’s eyes were bright with the discovery they’d made, eager and excited for the progress.

Stunning. She was stunning, and he felt compelled to tell her so. But would she take it the wrong way, dressed in nightclothes in a drafty hallway? Most likely.

Before he could say anything more, she turned and hurried up the stairs, leaving him alone for a moment. Thunder rumbled again outside, and he slipped the letter into his pocket, careful to keep it unrumpled. Once Anaisa’s candlelight was completely gone, he turned and hurried back to his place. He would have to find a way to explain how he discovered the letter, but that wasn’t a problem for right now.

That was something for the Trace of tomorrow to figure out.

Unfortunately, he realized as he got to the landing of the stairs, daybreak was already well on the way. Some decisions were going to have to be made, and soon, so that—

“You there!!” A voice roared, making him nearly jump out of his skin. “Hold still and state your business!”