Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 87
Chapter 87: At last, the confession
Anaisa blinked, a little confused, at her husband. Part of her dream was trying to convince her this wasn’t a dream, when it clearly was.
“How can I prove this,” Trace mused to himself before holding her gaze with his. “Watch.”
He glanced up at the sky, and suddenly the sun was gone, and they were in a night full of dazzling stars. They weren’t even all white, many were hues of sparkling blue, lavender, pink, and an array of other shades.
“Stunning,” She complimented breathlessly. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”
How was he doing this in her dream? Her mind must have given him the power to do so.
“Like nothing you’ve ever imagined?” Trace pressed. “We’re not in your dream anymore, we’re in mine. I’m in control here. Try to change something.”
Anaisa scratched her head idly. “This dream is strange. I’ll be so confused when I finally wake up.”
“Try to understand,” He urged, but she waved him off.
“I don’t want to understand. Can I just enjoy it instead?” Her eyes shifted to the stars once more.
This dream was too lovely to waste it trying to figure out its beauty. Trace sighed lightly and smiled at her. “Yes. Whatever you want, just tell me and it will be done.”
“These constellations aren’t familiar,” Anaisa searched them. “I don’t see any that I recognize.”
“Did you study astronomy?” Trace asked, and she nodded idly.
“Father made sure we were well-educated if nothing else. Our tutor was strict and a bit cruel, but knowledgeable in the sciences. I had to recite all the named constellations or be struck on the wrist with a stick.”
Why was she telling him this? He was part of her imagination; he should know it already.
“That’s awful,” He shook his head. “Do you ever miss your life from back then?”
“No. I want everything back, of course, but now that I know…” She gasped, doubling over in pain, and Trace rushed to her side.
“What? What is it?” He looked her over with concern. “You should be safe from pain here.”
“I remembered, and it made me so sad. I can’t.” She shook it away. “Distract me. Make me forget. Can you bring me a sunrise?”
Anaisa watched Trace anxiously. Even though she should be in charge of her own dream, delegating that ability to Dream-Trace seemed easier right now. He nodded seriously, and a sudden light broke out on the horizon.
She turned to watch the sun slowly peek up over the sea. It was magnificent.
“Thank you,” Anaisa whispered, leaning into Trace’s shoulder. “I don’t want to remember anything but this. I only want to be here, with you, forever.”
In life, Katia needed her no longer. There was no revenge, there was no life to be had, except to serve the princess as a companion or return with Trace to his farm.
Staying here with him on a mountaintop watching an eternal sunrise seemed far more appealing than facing the shame of being a fraud.
“I will stay as long as you want, but you have to wake up eventually,” Trace’s arm came around her as she shivered in the cold. “You don’t want to starve.”
“You are far too logical for a figment of my imagination,” She criticized him, “Stop it. Just promise me you’ll hold me and pretend I am who I thought I was.”
“…What does that mean?” He shifted to look into her face.
“It means my father confessed he was a fake, to the king himself. I’m not a Count’s daughter, I’m the daughter of a liar and a fraud. I’m nothing.” She gritted her teeth and shoved the terrible thoughts away.
“But hush, I asked you to make me forget, and you’re questioning me instead.” She chastised him with a glint in her eye. “Disobedient dream-man, I should throw you off a cliff until you learn to listen better.”
Trace smiled, but confusion and surprise lingered in his gaze. “You could certainly try, but I’ll just summon something to catch me.”
“Then how will you learn?” She made a face at him. His eyes turned more serious, and he brought a hand up to cradle her cheek. Her heart melted.
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“What would you like me to learn?” He whispered.
“Learn to distract me better,” Anaisa urged. Her eyes dropped to his lips, and she tilted her chin ever so slightly.
Since Trace was only a figment of her dream imagination, he needed no further encouragement. He lowered his head and gently pressed his lips to hers. They were warm, and firm, and tentative at first.
She drew back a hair’s breadth.
“That’s your best effort at distracting me? I can still think,” She teased.
This was definitely the best dream she’d ever had.
Trace shook his head slightly, using one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear while his other wrapped more firmly about her waist.
“You’re sure this is what you want to dream about?” He whispered. With every word his lips gently brushed hers, sending pleasant tremors down her spine.
“You’re talking too much,” She goaded him. Her hands had been resting on his chest, but she snaked one up behind his head to pull it down. This was her dream, and she was going to enjoy it!
Finally, probably because she willed it so, he ceased any effort at conversation and began kissing her in earnest. She exulted in the pressure of his form against hers, the insistence of his lips, the warmth of his breath in the cold air.
She held him with increasing desperation. He kissed her as if he wanted her. As if he loved her. Her soul ached as if a new part of it was stretching for the first time. In spite of her wretchedness, the fraudulence of even her name, let alone her station, to be loved anyway?
Trace held her like a flower, delicate and valuable. His kisses, which had built in intensity, now slowed to a pace which made her heart burn with some unnamed emotion. His touch became searing, and Anaisa struggled to keep her thoughts coherent.
“No,” She urged when he seemed to be ending the kiss. “Don’t leave me alone.”
“The dream is breaking, I need to concentrate,” His words made no sense, but she pulled him back to herself again. The earth shook underneath them, and cracked.
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