Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 58

Choose wisely
Anaisa froze. The king wanted to know who her parents were, and she had to quickly make a decision about whether to directly lie to him, or tell him the truth and deal with the fallout. Neither seemed a good option at this point.

“….both my parents are dead,” She whispered as tears began to fill her eyes.

The king’s face softened at her show of grief, not knowing that they weren’t tears of sadness.

They were tears of rage at Barnabas, and at her own father, for putting her in the position of introducing herself to the king of their nation as a servant instead of a noble. This was not her place. She should be standing here in finery with head held high, not terrified that she would be found out and executed.

Her resolve to take down her traitorous cousin intensified as she tried not to cower.

“Were your parents from Foundrel?” The King glanced to one side.

Anaisa’s eyes blazed to his and she shook her head vehemently, afraid to address him in anger. He was implicitly accusing her of being a spy, questioning her heritage.

He raised his eyebrows at her and she dropped her gaze again. She should be grateful he hadn’t immediately recognized her for who she really was.

“Are you a traitor? Who hired you to come here?”

“She’s no traitor,” The Princess jumped in angrily, surprising Anaisa with a passionate defense. “She came in for work and the housekeeper hired her to assist the dressmaker, but I loved her hair color so much that I asked Yemi to use it as a template for my own new style, and then kept her as a maid for myself once I found our personalities to be compatible.”

That was a stretch by any standards, but Anaisa refrained from comment.

“And you left her color to match yours? That seems unlike you, with your vanity–” The king looked skeptical.

“Father!” Sapphira rebuked him, and he held up a hand.

“I can’t imagine you being willing to have the same hair as a dressmaker’s assistant.” King Harold finished, then looked at Anaisa. “She yearns to be unique, to stand out. Is my daughter telling the truth?”

Anaisa gulped, and whispered again, quietly enough so that the princess wouldn’t overhear, though she was standing only a few steps away. “She wanted my hair changed to brown, but–”

“But what?” The king pressed.

“The hair-changer, Yemi, told her not to. She said having a ‘double’ around could be useful.” Anaisa was compelled to answer, but kept her voice as soft as she could.

“Is that true?” Harold looked up at his daughter, speaking loudly enough for the whole room to hear. Anaisa glanced over her shoulder. “Yemi convinced you to leave this servant looking like yourself because a double could be useful?”

“Yes, what of it?” Sapphira asked dismissively. The would-be maid continued to be shocked at the disrespectful attitude the princess was allowed to show her father.

“Yemi intended to have you kidnapped.” The king informed her gravely. The princess’s haughty facade slipped, and her eyes widened.

“What?” She squeaked.

“The night of your ball. She was going to use your look-alike to hide the fact that you were being kidnapped. Were you part of this plot, miss?” The king turned suddenly on the maid.

Anaisa shook her head fervently ‘no,’ worried that she was about to be executed.

“Of course she wasn’t!” The Princess cried. “Would you have thought I looked like that until I changed my hair? I didn’t even see the resemblance myself for some time afterward!”

“The look is quite a change from your normal appearance,” The king conceded. “I suppose I wouldn’t have thought you looked at all alike before two days ago.”

Anaisa’s shoulders sagged with relief.

“Back to you, Sergeant Ulrich,” The king turned and strode back towards his throne to sit in it. “The handwriting confirms the letter was written by Yemi, but how do we confirm whether or not you were the intended recipient and co-conspirator in the plot?”

“I’m loyal to the kingdom!” Ulrich declared. “I would never–”

“Take Yemi away and torture her until she reveals the name of her partner,” The king beckoned the guards at the back of the room.

“What??” The magic-user screeched.

“Your Majesty, surely torture isn’t–” A voice spoke from behind a screen at the side of the room, startling Anaisa. Who was back there? Why weren’t they out here? Was that the Advisory of Counts her father had been apart of, serving the king with their collective wisdom?

“Silence! This concerns my daughter’s safety and I will have resolution.” The King glared. The guards came forward to grip Yemi by the arms. Anaisa jumped out of the way as they began to drag her.

“No! Your Majesty, no!” Yemi screamed.

Ulrich remained silent, staring at the floor.

“Do you have any better way to move forward? Suggestions on how to get answers from the woman?” The King asked the guard.

“If her mother was truly from Foundrel,” The sergeant spoke slowly. “Perhaps, an investigation could be made to look for living family members. If they were captured, she might speak more willingly.”

“A cautious suggestion which will take far too much time and also spare her from torture.” King Harold’s face darkened. “I cannot allow it. Take her to the dungeon and begin immediately.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Ulrich bowed slightly, and Yemi let out a screech that would put a cat to shame.

“YOU SNAKE! YOU SHOULD BE TORTURED WITH ME, ABANDONING ME AND PUTTING MY FAMILY UP AS A BARGAINING CHIP!”

Anaisa flinched as Ulrich reddened.

“Your Majesty, I believe we are satisfied that he is a co-conspirator.” A voice behind the screen spoke again, and several echoes of agreement rose as the sentence ended. That must be the advisory, which meant Barnabas was likely back there among them. She was suddenly glad that she had only whispered to the king instead of speaking loudly enough for any of them to hear.

She was so distracted that she missed the reason for the princess’s sudden cry of alarm.