Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 64

A confession unfolds
Trace’s mind raced as he absorbed Anaisa’s words. “When? When was this?”

“The day we first met, hours before I got my job at the inn.” Anaisa’s hands were gripping her skirt tightly. “I didn’t tell you before. I’m sorry. You always look so angry when you think about Conlan.”

“Tell me more about this man he was meeting with. Barnabas? How do you know him? Who is he?” Trace tried to keep his questions easy, voluntary, non-demanding, but it was difficult. He wanted to know everything. Immediately.

“He is one of the counts, on the Advisory. I heard his voice in the throne room amongst the others. He is responsible for Katia and I losing everything. That’s… all I want to tell you about the matter for now.” Anaisa looked away, and Trace took several deep breaths.

Progress. This was progress. Faith in another could not be demanded, he reminded himself. He should not immediately press her for more information if she was unwilling to give it.

“Thank you for trusting me with that,” He managed, though it was difficult. By offering so little, she’d made him desperate for more.

At some point, he must have convinced himself that all of her secrets were completely personal events from her past. To find out she’d been keeping information so entwined into his life from him was something of a blow.

“You are upset,” Anaisa made a statement instead of asking a question. Trace hesitated.

“I’m… anxious to find out who sends me the letters.” He moderated his words. “It is encouraging to have a clue as to who it might be, but discouraging that he might be one so powerful… This man, did he have on a ring?”

Anaisa looked at him strangely. “A ring?”

“Yes. A signet ring.” He closed his eyes and concentrated. “A wolf, with a snake around its feet.”

She blinked several times. “How did you know that?”

Trace tried to calm his excitement. He already knew from Anaisa’s words that Conlan delivered letters for this ‘Barnabas’. The fact that Conlan had dreamed about getting a letter from the same man did not mean for certain that these were the letters for Trace.

Perhaps Conlan ran errands for multiple people. Multiple Counts, even.

“Oh, is this part of your secret skill?” Anaisa whispered more quietly than before, and leaned toward him with wide eyes.

He pondered his answer but wound up having to smother a yawn as the exhaustion of such an eventful day caught up to him.

“You can stretch out on the sofa and rest if you need to,” Anaisa pursed her lips. “I’ll keep watch for when Her Highness wakes up. You must have had a long night.”

“I’m sure half the castle is exhausted,” He shrugged. “Not many people sleep well in storms like that one, I imagine.”

“I always have the strangest dreams during storms,” She shook her head.

“Oh?” Trace froze. “What about?”

“Any number of things. I usually don’t remember all that much, just odd snatches of images or feelings.” Anaisa leaned forward to pour the tea and hand it to him.

“Do you remember anything from last night’s dreams?” He tried to keep his question casual, but he was intensely curious.

“That is interesting,” She tilted her head and looked at him, “I have been remembering more of them lately. For so long I only had nightmares and just tried hard to forget them as soon as I woke up, but recently… perhaps it’s the change of food, or scenery. I’m not sure.”

Trace tried to gauge how much further he could press his questions without being impolite.

“You have good dreams now?” He asked lightly. “Even in the storm?”

Anaisa’s eyebrows drew together. “From the storm… I remember feelings. At first terrible. Blood, and anger. Fear. But then a sudden change. A pretty dress, nervousness, I think, and a little sadness, but then celebration?”

She paused thoughtfully and then shrugged. Trace gulped. Either that was all she was willing to share or she honestly didn’t remember. Either way, to seem too interested would arouse her suspicion now.

“What about you, do you remember your dreams?” She asked casually.

“Every one,” He answered without thinking.

“Really?” Anaisa’s eyebrows rose. “All of them?”

“I always have. I used to think it was very strange when I found out other people forget theirs.” He admitted with a smile.

“What did you dream about last night?” She leaned toward him with interest.

He paused. He hadn’t spent any time in his own dreams last night at all. He swallowed before answering as honestly as he could without saying too much.

“A wedding,” He told her, selecting the second half of her dream as an answer. “I never saw the groom’s face. The bride seemed conflicted, and I worried about her, whether she would be all right. The guests were happy and celebrating, and the walk down the aisle was a long one.”

It was a risk reciting her dream as if it were his. A big one. Would she recognize it? Put the pieces together? Pinpoint his abilities and call him out for it?

Her brow furrowed in thought and she turned away for a moment to pour herself some tea.

“Are you all right?” He asked.

“Yes, yes I’m… just confused,” She admitted. “I’m not exactly sure why.”

Trace knew why. Her mind consciously or subconsciously recognized the dream it had forgotten, but was struggling to understand the memory, or why Trace had recited it. He had unwittingly done that to his mother and father when he was younger.

“This is good tea,” He changed the subject.

“Yes, I suppose so,” She murmured, looking down and swirling it in her cup. Anaisa paused a moment, and then looked up into his eyes again. “Trace?”

“Yes?” His stomach tightened when she said his name.

“What…” She lowered her voice. “What is the plan now? You caught the people plotting, but we’re still here.”

“Oh,” He gulped and whispered, “I… got another letter.”

“What?” Her voice was a bit louder than he’d like, and she ducked her head and lowered her volume. “What does it say?”

He pursed his lips. He hadn’t read it yet. Did he really want to read it in front of her? He had no idea what instructions he might receive or whether his secret would be wrapped up in it.

Trace sighed and looked at Anaisa, and the hope and interest in her eyes caught him off guard.

“Are you enjoying the mystery?” He asked incredulously. Their lives might be in danger, and she seemed excited!

“I’m… looking forward to resolving it.” Anaisa responded diplomatically. “I’m frightened, yes, but the next clue is something good isn’t it?” Her eyes widened. “Or is it terrible?”

“I’m not sure–” He began, but a groggy call from the other room interrupted his words.

“Aaaannie,” The Princess whined. “I need a drink.”

“I’m coming, Your Highness,” Anaisa rolled her eyes before giving Trace a disappointed look. “Tell me more later. Promise?”

“I’ll tell you more later,” He echoed, since the promise held no particular degree as to how much more or of what content the ‘more’ needed to consist.

She smiled brightly at him, and his heart warmed as he watched her prepare a cup of tea and take it in to the young woman nearby.

Just like that, he was alone to read.