Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 77

An outrageous statement
Trace choked on the tea he was drinking and coughed. Groping for a napkin, he tried to minimize his strong reaction to the princess’s words, for more than one reason. He didn’t want the princess to think he was mocking her, for one, but he also didn’t want to tip off Anaisa just yet that he knew about her dreams.

“You don’t know what I dreamed,” Anaisa shook her head at the princess, and Trace almost thought the words were in answer to his own thoughts.

“Well?” Sapphira sat up straighter, “Did you dream of a wonderful man? Maybe we’re both going to get happy endings!”

“I’m not the focus of the conversation right now,” Anaisa dodged the question. “We’re talking about how you shouldn’t blindly believe you’re going to fall in love just because of a dream. Dreams can be deceptive.”

“Are your dreams deceptive?” Sapphira shot back.

Trace watched Anaisa’s face carefully. Her dream with him had been beautiful. He’d enjoyed it immensely, and knew she had as well. He’d told her to convince the princess not to believe in dreams, but would that advice encourage her to disregard her own as well?

“Focus on what’s real,” Anaisa urged. “A real man won’t be perfect.”

“I’m tired of your pessimism,” Sapphira stood up. “I’m excited for the ball for the first time! Ready to dance and enjoy everything! Let’s go see Father. If Sanders finds me a good enough magic user, maybe I don’t want it to be a masked ball like I told him before!”

Anaisa’s face registered surprise, but Trace perked up for the first time. It was early enough in the morning, he might get some clue as to where the king’s chambers were. If he needed to at least pretend to follow through with his blackmailer’s instructions, knowing where the king slept in this world help him locate the dreams later.

“And the dressmaker!” Sapphira declared. “I will need to see her and make sure my dress is absolutely perfect!!”

“She won’t recognize us both?” Anaisa seemed skeptical. “If I’m to pretend to be you, the dress would be fitted to me, wouldn’t it?”

“You won’t try it on today, I just want to make sure it’s progressing nicely. If we drop in on her she can’t lie to me and pretend more is done than she says,” Sapphira said thoughtfully. “Even if she does recognize us, she won’t dare say anything,” Sapphira shrugged. “Just scream a lot and make sure the dress looks perfect.”

Trace stood along with the ladies, and looked between them pointedly. The princess sighed.

“I suppose we had better change,” She pressed her lips together.

“We’ll be right back,” Anaisa looked to Trace, several unspoken thoughts in her eyes. He nodded.

He wished they had hours alone. He wanted to tell her everything. To assure her that he meant well, he hadn’t kept his secret maliciously, to pour out his heart.

To tell her that he was quickly having far deeper feelings than he’d anticipated, and hope she didn’t outright reject him.

To ask about her deep rage towards Barnabas. She’d said he was responsible for herself and Katia being out on the street. For their father’s death. What had happened? Would she tell him?

In her dream, she’d been so… unguarded. Playful, and sincere. She hadn’t believed it was the real him, but surely she wouldn’t treat a dream version of him so warmly if she didn’t like him.

And she’d trusted him enough to take him at his word that convincing the princess not to rely on her dreams was the right thing to do. That was progress. Wasn’t it?

And yet, the venom in her voice when she’d asked him to destroy Barnabas was startling. It didn’t fit with the rest of what he knew about his wife. He was unsettled about it.

As he came to care about her more, what else would he find out?

His thoughts were still scattered when the women emerged, ready to go. Sapphira looked dour with her hair drawn back and covered, the pale makeup on her face giving her a sickly pallor.

“Let’s go!” She announced far more cheerfully than her altered countenance should be allowed.

The trio left the princess’s chambers behind, with Anaisa moving a marker next to the door.

Trace hadn’t noticed her doing that before.

“What does that mean?” He jerked his chin at the little painted plaque hanging on a nail.

“The other maids will come now and tidy the chambers while we are out,” Sapphira told him.

Trace frowned. They wouldn’t go through his things, would they? He had decided before to keep the blackmail note on his person to minimize the chance of it being seen, but even so, he didn’t like the idea of his pack being messed with.

After eating with the other servants, he knew how nosy they had the potential to be.

“Hurry up, let’s go see Father,” Sapphira bounced, back in her cheery mood. “He won’t start meeting with the advisory for another few hours, and if I can catch him in a good mood he’ll be more malleable.”

“Malleable?” Anaisa lifted an eyebrow, and Trace paused. It was not a word one usually applied to a reigning monarch, but Sapphira had demonstrated a consistent pattern of disrespect for her father, so he supposed he shouldn’t be terribly surprised.

“Just a turn of phrase. When he sees how happy I am, I’m sure he’ll bend over backwards to keep me this way!” She exulted. “Don’t worry, everything will work out beautifully! There is so much to do and so little time now! What is it, three, four days to the ball? I can’t even remember, I’m too eager! Come on, let’s leave now and I can figure it out on the way!”

“Lead the way,” Trace bowed his head slightly, and the princess in disguise nearly skipped down the hall.

“Are all young women in love so silly?” Anaisa murmured to herself.

“I’m not sure. Are they?” He tilted his head and looked at her curiously.

Her face reddened, and his eyebrows rose.

That was interesting. And encouraging.