Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 69

The art of flirtation
Trace watched Anaisa’s face color as she sat down in one of the chairs and picked up a pastry. He hadn’t seen this type before, but mostly he’d only ever eaten his mother’s cooking, his own, and the soldiers’ rations provided to him in the army. He sat down to try one as well.

“I had them on holidays when I was young,” Anaisa said a little stiffly.

“Well, I’m glad. This will be an excellent snack to get us in the mood for dancing!” Sapphira proclaimed.

“I said no to dancing,” Trace grumbled. “And definitely no flirting. Your father will have my head.”

Not to mention how extremely awkward it would feel to try to teach a young woman how to flirt. With his wife in the room, no less!

He shot Anaisa a look begging for her help, but she seemed more amused than concerned. She shrugged at him with a barely contained smile while Sapphira busied herself with her snack.

Traitor he mouthed at his wife. She had just taken a bite of her own pastry and almost choked on it as she giggled.

“See?” Sapphira pointed an accusing finger at them both. “Flirtation! I need that skill!”

“No you don’t,” Anaisa shook her head, putting her plate down. “And I wouldn’t know how to teach it, regardless.”

“What do you mean? I insist that you do!” Sapphira pouted.

“It’s not a lesson,” Anaisa stood and walked to the window. Trace watched her from his chair as she paced. “It’s… something that just happens, I suppose.”

“It just happens?” The princess’s tone was skeptical. “How could it just happen?”

“I think worrying too much about it will make it not work,” Anaisa advised. “Be yourself, and if you find someone you like, it should follow, I think.”

“So you admit you like Trace?” The Princess’s eyes lit with mischief, and Anaisa’s lips thinned while her face flamed.

Trace froze with a bite halfway to his mouth, and watched her carefully. On the one hand, he very much wanted her to admit liking him. Admit that she enjoyed flirting with him.

On the other hand, saying so in front of the princess might cause a lot more trouble than they bargained for.

Especially since Trace had told the king he was a soldier. The obvious conclusion since all soldiers were assigned wives was that he was a married man. He didn’t want a reputation as a scoundrel. Who would want that kind of man guarding a princess?

If pressed, he supposed he could say he no longer had a wife back home. That was technically true since she was here in the palace, but it might create more questions than it answered. Best to just change the subject.

“You are young,” Anaisa didn’t answer the question. “I think after your ball you will probably understand things a little better.”

“You can’t be much older than me,” Sapphira countered, “When did you ‘understand things better’?”

“I…” Anaisa floundered, and glanced at Trace for help.

“Everyone probably learns at their own pace,” He cut in. “There will be time to get to know whatever man comes into your life.”

Sapphira deflated and leaned back on her fancy embroidered chair. “Will there? Or will he immediately become busy with the things of court and never see me? Not that I would complain if it were certain men, but I want my freedom. To do what I want, leave the palace, see who I want instead of being hidden away like some shameful secret.”

“Your father is not ashamed of you, he’s protective.” Anaisa came over to the princess and patted her hand gently. “There’s a difference. I can’t say what the future holds for you, but it’s not hopeless.”

“How can it be anything but hopeless? I’m to be passed from one overbearing master to another.” Sapphira’s eyebrows drew together as she brooded.

“Not necessarily,” Anaisa leaned closer and put a motherly arm around the princess as she sat beside her on the wide chair. “My father… was not nearly as good as your own. Yours tolerates a great deal from you, and I imagine he loves you very much, and perhaps just doesn’t know how to show it very well. Maybe you can talk with him about your fears of an oppressive marriage? He might make every effort to find you a good man.”

“A good man?” Sapphira sighed. “Are there any?”

Trace resisted the urge to clear his throat, though the comment was clearly made as a hopeless generality rather than a personal insult to him.

“I have come to believe that there are,” Anaisa’s eyes met Trace’s, and held them for a split second before she looked back at Sapphira. “There are many, many evil ones in the world, but amongst them, I believe it is possible to find a good one. I hope for such a one for you.”

Trace’s chest was tight with emotion. Anaisa had called him a good man, and he exulted in the feeling, but sorrow filled him as she described the evil men of the world. What evils had she suffered? What secrets did she still keep?

His heart hurt for her past, for the little girl in her dreams that hid under a bed. He even ached for the princess in front of him who now let a handful of tears flow as she allowed herself to show the trepidation she felt about embarking on a new part of her life.

Royalty and wealth were not all they seemed to be from the outside. The plots, the intrigue, the fear of the future, and the weight of protecting a kingdom lay on these people. And there were evil ones amongst them.

It was too bad that the Counts did not stay in the palace, or Trace would go searching their dreams for a man named Barnabas tonight. He frowned.

As it stood now, he already had a very important visit to pay once evening came.