Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 89

Chapter 89: Vomiting is exhausting
Anaisa heaved until her abdominal muscles were sore. Trace produced a handkerchief and a cup of water to clean her mouth. His readable face was plainly worried about her.

Had she been too hard on him?

Admittedly, her pride was stinging a little from humiliation. She’d shamelessly thrown herself at him in the dream, intent on enjoying the experience and not knowing it was really… him.

She was quiet for a while, and lay back down on the sofa, rolling to her side to stare at a cushion instead of at Trace. He sat down on the floor near her head.

“Please forgive me,” He whispered desperately.

Dozens of questions rolled through her mind. What had been his goal and purpose in entering her dreams? What was he looking for? What had happened in the dreams she couldn’t remember? Her cheeks burned.

“Was that…” She choked on the words and cleared her throat. “Was that the most intimate dream we’ve shared?”

“I should say so,” He answered readily. “For goodness sakes, you broke my world apart! I don’t even know what I’ll find when I sleep again.”

“I broke it?” She turned her head slightly towards him. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure. Other people’s dreams break fairly easily, but mine… that’s never happened before.” Trace’s voice turned contemplative. “Of course, I’ve never brought anyone to my dream world before.”

That piqued her curiosity in spite of her best efforts to remain stubbornly detached. “Then why me?”

Trace held very still as he spoke, as if afraid she would rebuke him again. “I can change other people’s dreams, usually, but ones based on physical sensations are almost immovable. You were in pain from the poison, so your nightmare was painful. I couldn’t change it so, I tried to take you from it and… it worked.”

“Why?” Anaisa rolled a little more so she could see his face.

“Why did it work? Or why did I try?” He watched her seriously.

“Why try?” She pressed.

“It’s not obvious?” Trace’s eyes begged for understanding, but a sharp knock at the chamber door prevented further conversation.

He leapt to his feet and went to answer, and Sapphira emerged from her chambers, looking somber.

“How’s the patient?” The doctor’s eyes scanned Anaisa from head to toe. “Ah, awake. Good. I didn’t expect it so soon.”

Anaisa glanced at Trace, who was staring miserably at the floor. She almost smiled; his face was still so readable. But she frowned quickly. Maybe it only appeared that way by design. All the better to manipulate her.

But that didn’t fit. None of it fit neatly together. She was of no service to him; manipulating her did not do him any particular good or accomplish any goal she could think of.

Her eyes were drawn to Sapphira. He’d told Anaisa to convince the princess not to believe her dreams… were those dreams he’d manipulated, or ones he hadn’t?

“How are you feeling?” The doctor placed his fingertips under Anaisa’s chin and turned her head this way and that as he stared into her eyes.

“My head hurts,” She grimaced, not sure if it was from the poison or from overthinking. Maybe both.

“Hm.” The doctor hummed. “Drink this. It will help with the poison and the pain as well. It will make you dizzy and sleepy. Two hours after you finish it, I want you to have some broth, and no solid foods until tomorrow. Your stomach has been through a lot today and there may be some damage.”

Anaisa took in the information silently as the doctor set the medicine on the table.

“Will she be all right?” Sapphira fretted. “How long until she’s better?”

“If all goes well, Her Highness should be able to attend the ball without any problems,” The doctor said, satisfied.

The maid startled slightly, looking down and realizing she was still dressed as the princess. The rumor mill would be going wild, no doubt.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Anaisa said. “How is the queen? Was she hurt?”

The doctor’s face darkened.

“Her Highness the Queen will be all right, but I’m uncertain as to the child.”

Anaisa’s heart ached for the woman, but she nodded stoically.

“You’re looking on the mend, so I will take my leave. Summon me again if you have need.” The man bowed deeply and left the chambers.

“Oh, Annie. This is all my fault. I never should have dragged you into my life the way I did,” Sapphira nearly threw herself on the sofa where Anaisa lay. “Will you forgive me?”

The young woman’s eyes were tearful and puffy, and Anaisa took her hand with a small smile.

“Of course.” Anaisa’s head still ached, and she brought one hand to press on her temple.

“Please drink the medicine,” Trace urged, picking it up from the table where the doctor had left it.

Sapphira moved aside, and Anaisa, feeling weak and exhausted, allowed Trace to help her lift her head and drink. His hand in the back of her hair reminded her of a moment in the dream when his kiss had become particularly passionate, and her cheeks flushed red.

She shouldn’t feel this way. She truly didn’t know him at all, did she?

“I’m tired,” She admitted. “I think I will sleep some more.”

“Your bed will be more comfortable than this sofa,” Sapphira piped up. “And your sleeping chamber can be made darker to help with your headache. Trace, pick her up and move her there.”

“No, I–” Anaisa tried to roll up on her elbow to protest, but her head spun, either from the after effects of the poison or the side effects of the medicine.

“Don’t be difficult,” Sapphira pulled on her most condescending tone as she gave Trace a significant look.

His eyes locked with Anaisa’s, apologetic and chagrined. Her gaze unfocused as he leaned forward and lifted her gently from the sofa, transporting her to her own bed, where Sapphira was already pulling back the coverlet and arranging the pillows.

“Oh, I’ll get a glass of water for your table in case you get thirsty!” The princess declared suddenly, racing from the room in her haste to be helpful.

Anaisa’s eyelids were heavy, and she gave in to the pull of sleep. The last sensation she felt was someone gently brushing a lock of hair from her forehead and tucking it behind her ear.