Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 74

Waking up
Anaisa sat straight up in bed, startled. What a strange dream!

She remembered every detail with startling clarity. The feel of Trace’s shoulder against her cheek, the spray of water through the air, the laughter.

She shivered. It was dawn.

Out of all the things or people in the world she could have called into her dream once she realized what it was, her mind had brought Trace. Her face burned. She tried to remind herself that he had secrets. He could still be an assassin of some kind. A spy. A murderer?

She shouldn’t have such intense feelings for him that her stomach knotted into lumps when she thought about how he would react to knowing she’d had such a dream about him!

Did he dream about her?

She shivered again, electing to get out of bed and get dressed before Sapphira woke and started screaming for her. Likely she would want to go out again today, and Anaisa would have to pretend to be the princess once again.

On one hand, she felt bad for the young woman, but on the other… she had her own aims to accomplish. Pretending to be a princess who was not allowed to see or be seen by any of the counts was not helping her make much progress on getting information on Barnabas that could take him down.

Maybe she could convince Sapphira to send her on some errand by herself. If she could get loose into the palace and go exploring, perhaps…

Ready for the day, Anaisa peeked in at the princess, who was still asleep, her night lamp burning dimly.

It was absurd to waste so much oil instead of learning to sleep in the dark like everyone else, but then, a princess had license to spend what she wanted.

Anaisa’s childhood had been a strange mix of her father spending extravagantly on parties to woo the powerful and increase his influence, and then secretly being stingy when others were away. Consequently, Anaisa and Katia each had a fine new dress every time they were required to make some brief appearance, but their routine care had many gaps.

Closing the princess’s door, Anaisa went out to the sitting room, where a servant would be delivering breakfast soon. When she emerged, Trace was already up and ready for the day, sitting on one side of the sofa and brooding.

Which wasn’t like him at all.

“Are you all right?” Anaisa asked softly, and he jumped. “Did you not sleep well?”

Her eyes darted over to the doorway, where he had been made to sleep to prevent ingress and egress.

“You don’t already know?” His voice was soft, his expression complex. For once, she couldn’t read it. Why would she know how he had slept? She blinked, thinking back over yesterday’s events, and last night…

“Oh! I remember!” She whispered, and darted a look at the Princess’s door to make sure it was still closed before coming to sit beside him. He looked at her in surprise.

“You remember?” He searched her eyes carefully, and she looked back at him. He was so serious!

“You were going to go visit Sanders after you completed your assignment yesterday. Of course you had a late night,” Anaisa sympathized.

His jaw went slack for a moment, and there was a sort of controlled pain in his expression. He tried to smile, but she saw through it.

“Yes,” He answered after a moment. “It was a busy evening.”

“Did you make any… progress?” She asked him quietly.

“I learned a lot,” He nodded. “Not all of it was encouraging.”

“But some was?” She tilted her head. “Did you find out anything about Barnabas?”

“I have all but confirmed he is my blackmailer,” Trace frowned at her. “Is there anything else you can tell me that will help?”

Anaisa paused. She didn’t particularly want to spill her life story right now with the princess liable to wake up any moment.

“I’ve been trying to find out information on how to take him down,” She confided. “But I know of nothing right now that can be used against him.”

Trace sighed, and nodded.

She cringed. Should she tell him everything she knew? All his habits, his likes and dislikes, how cruel he was?

“What would be your plan, if you did know more about him?” She tried. “Maybe I can think of something that will help.”

“I don’t know,” Trace wiped his hand across his face, and looked at Anaisa. He seemed forlorn. Tortured, almost.

“How can I help?” She whispered again. She hated seeing him this way. She wanted the laughter she’d dreamt of. The teasing in his eyes. The easy way she fit against his shoulder.

Her face heated at the thoughts, but she wouldn’t turn away.

More and more, she wanted Trace to stay with her, even to the end, whatever that would be. Success and raising him with her to high social standing, or failing miserably and going back to the farm in defeat–assuming she escaped execution for trying to take Barnabas down.

Being around Trace was different. It felt safer, happier. She didn’t want to let that go, to leave him, divorce him under the law, only to eventually marry some heartless social climber who wanted her wealth and nothing more.

“I’m not sure you can,” Trace shook his head.

“I want to,” She told him. “I want you to succeed so we can be free of his web, but I…” She hesitated. “I want your help, as well. To grind him into the dust and make sure he never recovers.”

She flinched at how harshly the words came out, and Trace lifted his head to stare at her.

“That doesn’t seem like you,” He said slowly. “Are you sure?”

Anaisa considered the matter, even as she felt unaccountable shame for revealing the darkest desire within her: to see a man, a Count, no less, defeated, humiliated, and perhaps even executed. That would be justice, wouldn’t it? It was no shameful thing to want justice. Besides, Barnabas wasn’t really a man. He was a snake.

She firmed her lips and nodded at her husband.

“He is responsible for the death of my father,” She said, “and the disgrace of my sister and myself. I cannot abide him to live while we suffer.”