Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 81

A father’s lies
“My father was a terrible man, but there’s no way he committed the treason you accused him of,” Anaisa knew that it was possibly only seconds before the guards were ordered to come drag her away and throw her into the dungeon to await the executioner, so she saw no harm in airing all her grievances now.

At least no one here knew she was Trace’s wife. Her death would free him to marry someone better. He deserved much more than her wretched reputation would bring him. A nice farm girl who could live the simple life he really wanted.

Tears of rage filled Anaisa’s eyes and she swiped them away.

“My father’s horrible cousin, Barnabas, who took his place, must have framed him. I know it in my soul!” She cried. “You surround yourself with snakes and expect to run a country well, but there’s nothing but war and mistreatment. Death and depravity for young women with nowhere else to go. Servanthood or the brothel were just about the only choices open for me!”

“That’s enough.” The king’s jaw worked, but for some reason he didn’t immediately call for the guards. Probably because she posed no actual threat to him whatsoever, slim and delicate as she was.

“Is it?” She challenged. “Is my utter fall into ruin enough to satisfy your need to debase my father so severely that you would declare him a fake Count?”

“It was not my desire to debase him,” The king sighed, “It was his own admission.”

“What?” Anaisa almost fell over. “How much did your men torture him to make him say such a thing??”

“There was no torture. Barnabas, as you call him–” King Harold intoned.

“I refuse to refer to that man with my father’s title!” Anaisa snapped, earning a sharp look from the king and a nudge from Sapphira for interrupting the monarch.

“He was investigating a matter having to do with the land dispute in the war. He had been for some time, after enforcing the law in the outlying territory and realizing that Foundrel had been encroaching on our boundaries. Your father advocated against going to war, and Barnabas discovered evidence of Hector’s involvement with Foundrel. He was heartbroken to tell me about his own cousin’s treachery.”

“A lie! False evidence!” Anaisa cried.

“I went to the battlefield in secret,” The king took a deep breath and looked at Anaisa seriously. “My Counts are trusted above all others. I gave him the benefit of seeing him myself and confronting him with the evidence.”

“And?” Anaisa’s voice wavered, terrified of the answer.

“And, your father confessed to me. He was never who he claimed. His mother, unable to bear children, stole him from Foundrel and put him forward as her own son. When he learned of it, he resented her and our whole nation, and sought to betray us. He was never of noble blood, and neither are you.”

“But… my red hair…” Anaisa glanced at it.

“A rare thing, even among nobility here. It is more common in Foundrel.” The king shook his head.

“This… this can’t be.” The servant’s mind raced, and her legs finally gave out, letting her sink to the floor as her rage abandoned her. Where it had dwelt, she now felt hollow. “I cannot believe it. It must be a lie.”

“Your father was proud of all he had done to sabotage the war effort. It wounded me deeply to see how a man I had trusted for so many years could betray me so sorely. I regret, in retrospect, that it destroyed your life, but none of what I did was malicious. He was fake, and his issue are not noble. The title and house went to the man it should have been with since the man you called your grandfather died.”

Anaisa shook her head.

“I grew up in that home. I’ve always been… have always been…” She felt vomit rise from the pit of her stomach, but managed to hold it down.

“As a gesture of goodwill, I will allow you to stay on as Sapphira’s companion and double rather than as purely her maid. No more cleaning or work will be required of you. I overlooked before that you were innocent of your father’s wrongdoings and not raised to a life of hard work.” The king sighed.

Anaisa wanted to scream. To rail at him, call him a liar. To kick and bite and scratch until her bitterness was spent. To remind him that not only did he allow Barnabas license to throw her out of her own home, but forbade any of the other nobility from helping her!

“I had to make an example,” Harold suddenly looked much older than his years. “People willing to betray others often think little of themselves, but if they believe their children will also be punished for their wrongdoings, it raises the stakes of their actions.”

“I was thrown out and shunned as… a cautionary tale? An example? A deterrent?” Anaisa choked on her tears.

“I will give you some time to absorb this. It must be hard to be the daughter of a traitor, particularly when you have believed he was falsely accused. I assure you, he was not.” The king shook his head. “I must go and attend matters of court. You and Sapphira may stay here as long as you need to collect yourself before leaving.”

Anaisa nodded, once, and the king left her alone with the princess. Sapphira looked completely shell shocked that her maid had been considered nobility not that long before, but for once, she didn’t speak.

In an startling show of compassion, she moved to sit on the floor beside Anaisa, and put one arm around her.

“Annie… that sounds just awful.” She whispered. “I had no idea. You were the Count of Oakdown’s daughter?”

“Apparently not. Perhaps Barnabas should have had that title all along.” Anaisa shivered.

The princess’s voice wavered as her own eyes filled with tears. The prospect of a sympathetic ear, someone who knew the depth and breadth of Anaisa’s shame, which was far deeper than even she had realized until moments ago, broke the maid.

Openly, she wept against the princess’s shoulder for some time. She had grieved for others before, but now, the person she thought she had been was gone forever.