Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 95

Chapter 95: Trace’s Answer
Trace watched Anaisa’s face. It was such a relief to see her. He had half convinced himself that she was getting worse, not better, and that the doctor and Sapphira were lying.

Perhaps the poisoning had been far worse than he’d known. But now, here she was, sitting next to him, munching quietly on the bread he’d saved for her.

And talking to him! He wasn’t sure she would ever speak to him again. This was already a miracle.

The conversation was strangely even, and pleasant. As if Anaisa were too tired to really fight with him. He’d seen her temper flare before and knew how intensely she could argue. He wasn’t sure whether their current status was good or bad.

He hoped the lack of screaming was a good sign, though he certainly deserved it. Especially from her point of view, where he was willfully keeping further secrets rather than physically incapable of disobeying the Count’s orders.

Still, her last question caught him completely off guard. Why did he kiss her?

“Can you not guess?” He whispered.

“Pretend I’ve been poisoned and almost died and that my mind isn’t working properly.” She eyed him.

“Well,” Trace looked away from her for a moment as his face heated. “I know it wasn’t… ”

He struggled with the word. ‘Proper’ wasn’t quite right. After all, they were married.

“It was indecorous of me to do,” He looked back at her.

“Then why?” Anaisa pressed. The gentle patter of rain against the window punctuated her words. Trace smiled softly. It had rained the day they married, and despite everything that had come after, he couldn’t find it in him to regret the matter.

“You wanted me to,” He reminded her, holding up a finger to prevent her inevitable interruption, “and since I wanted to anyway… rather badly, I might add… my self-control failed.”

Anaisa’s jaw went slack. Trace watched her eyes dart from one direction to another as she processed what he’d just admitted.

“Will you forgive me?” Trace swallowed, daring to push a little.

“For the kiss? Yes. For everything else? … I’m not sure.” She answered thoughtfully. He nodded, but was perplexed by the separation.

“Why forgive me for only that?”

“Because, as you pointed out, I did insist that you distract me. I don’t think it would be fair to fault you forever for doing exactly what I requested.” Her cheeks flamed visibly, even in the dim light of the coming dawn.

Hope flickered in his heart. While she hadn’t forgiven him entirely, she wasn’t shutting him out. Wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder. Didn’t even seem to openly despise him.

“Well, next time you require distraction…” He flinched. Teasing was not the best move when he was already in such dangerous water.

“Careful,” Anaisa warned, and they both heard movement from the princess’s chamber.

“We can finish this conversation later,” He nodded.

“That should give you time to think of a way to finish that sentence which doesn’t result in you getting slapped,” Anaisa murmured as she stood, but he grinned at the fact she was still willing to talk to him.

“I’ll do my best,” He vowed seriously, just as Sapphira emerged from her room.

“Your best wha– Oh! Annie!” The princess gushed. “I’m so glad you’re doing better!”

“Me too,” Anaisa stood as Sapphira rushed over to embrace her.

“I was so worried, and Father was getting so anxious he almost canceled the ball. He’ll be so glad to see you up and about!”

Trace swallowed. He hated the plan for Anaisa to impersonate the princess at the ball, for a number of reasons, but the king’s insistence on it had only strengthened since the poisoning. If the royal family was being targeted, there was every reason for additional caution.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost a little weight,” Anaisa looked down at her starved body that hadn’t eaten in a few days. “The dressmaker may need to make some alterations.”

“We can fatten you up,” Sapphira offered easily. “I’ll send a servant for the best sweets!”

“You’d better check with the doctor on what she can handle,” Trace frowned. He didn’t want Anaisa to get sick all over again.

“You’ll do anything to get me into that gown,” Anaisa shook her head. “First you threaten to starve me, now stuff me.”

“The starving thing was a joke, you just didn’t know it at the time.” Sapphira breezed to the door and leaned out to shout down the hallway. “FOOD! NOW!”

“That was incredibly polite,” Anaisa complimented sarcastically.

“I’ve been working on my likeability.” Sapphira nodded.

“Hoping to catch a good husband that way?” The maid teased, but Trace tensed.

Every night he’d done as ordered and put the man in green and yellow into Sapphira’s dreams. She hadn’t mentioned the man again, but it made him nervous to think the plot would succeed because of his unwilling participation.

“We’ll see what happens,” Sapphira shrugged unenthusiastically, and the man was a little taken aback. He glanced over to Anaisa, but she didn’t spare him a glance. Had she been continuing to wear down Sapphira’s insistence on the man of her dream being real?

The man was real, but was not good in any way, shape, or form.

Unfortunately, Trace hadn’t figured out a way to stop the king from believing the dreams. He had no way of gauging whether the man was putting any stock in them, but most people seemed to.

Perhaps there was someone wise around the king, but that seemed a slim hope now.

Soon, a knock came at the door and breakfast was served. Trace stood and stayed in the background as the ladies ate, not wanting to interfere with their camaraderie. While Sapphira still had flashes of being spoiled and disrespectful, she seemed to be softening with Anaisa’s friendship.

The princess still mostly ignored him, but he didn’t question the matter. Being overlooked was far better than the too-familiar attitude that his current job had begun with.

Just as the ladies finished eating, a guard at the door announced the king’s arrival. No one bothered knocking, and the king burst in as he’d done every day about this time to check on his daughter and make sure Anaisa hadn’t died.

He never gave any information, and bade Trace to keep the princess confined until the ball. That had not sat well with Sapphira.

The princess jumped up now, and gestured to the munching Anaisa, who rose slowly to her feet.

“Don’t curtsy or get up,” The king held up his hand. “Save your energy. It’s two days until the ball and you must be ready.”