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His eyebrows crease. “Since never.”
“You mentioned it.” Yes, I have to point that out, or he’ll start claiming I’m delusional.
“I traveled back south in a hurry and found you surrounded by murderous, blood-sucking insects. I was poisoned last night and almost died. I don’t know what I’m saying.” He looks at my empty plate, then at me. “You should rest, azalee.”
“What did you say?”
“Wife, you need to rest.” His chair screeches in agony as he pulls it back suddenly.
The floor then tilts—and the ceiling. My vision blurs.
I’m falling from the chair, falling into a precipice.
No, someone’s holding me. I feel as if I’m being carried, but I don’t know what’s happening anymore. The veil between life and dreams and death has thinned, and I’m at the edge of it, conscious and unconscious, fallen and standing.
I’m in my bed in the river hideout, while at the same time standing on the balcony in the Amethyst Palace. I’m flying on a wingless unicorn and yet lying on my bed. There’s light. And darkness. And blood. So much blood.
15
Iam again in the Amethyst Palace, that empty, abandoned palace, and we’re standing on that balcony. The moonlight caresses treetops and some mountains in the distance.
“You know the truth now.” His deep voice draws my attention.
For some reason, I was trying to look at that mountain, memorize it, but why should it matter more than him?
I reach out and touch his hair. “Do you?”
He kisses the palm of my hand. “I’ve always known it.” His soft chuckle is so comforting.
We walk inside, then dance among abandoned, dusty furniture, dance when no song is playing, except in our hearts.
The next moment I’m in my bed on the island, and my husband’s hand is touching mine. Then someone is giving me hot soup, and I’m sitting up, half awake. It’s not Marlak, though, but I don’t know who that is.
Before I have time to find out where that soup is coming from, I’m by the cliff, surrounded by leech roaches, and watch them as they devour that fae’s body. Once they’re done, when they are about to attack me, they form a face in the air, a face with accusing eyes, reminding me I’m a murderer.
Marlak puts a hand in front of my eyes and pulls me in his arms, and we spin and spin towards the Nymph court. So much spinning.
When my eyes open and I recognize my room in the river hideout, I’m relieved to be awake again, relieved to be rid of those restless dreams.
There are no sunrays entering through the window. Instead, there’s only dim, diffused sunlight filtered by clouds, and I don’t know if it’s early or late.
I’m alone, and it’s strange. I could swear there was somebody by my side. Marlak? No, he wouldn’t… I stop myself before I even finish the thought. He wouldn’t care? Wouldn’t he? He came to save me.
Before, I could pretend it wasn’t him in my dreams, I could tell myself it was a strange coincidence, someone who looked just like my kindred soul. I could tell myself I was projecting my dreams onto him for some mysterious, odd reason.
But now, I know it’s not true. It was Marlak who came to save me, who showed up with a ragged gash on the back of his hand. There’s no more pretending that they are two different people, except that they act differently. Real-life Marlak is not at all like dream Marlak.
Isn’t he? I remember his kiss at our wedding, his whisper in my ear. Then again, his soft words were his assurance that he wouldn’t touch me. It’s a nice version of his constant reminders that he finds me unattractive.
Perhaps there’s no point in wondering why he’s in my dreams. Some things have no reason. I can’t start thinking Marlak’s my kindred soul or I’ll make foolish decisions.
With that thought, I get up. I’m not wearing a nightgown, but a tunic and leggings. I don’t even remember getting dressed, bathing, or lying down.
I hear some happy humming coming from the kitchen. That is most definitely not Marlak. When I enter it, I see the back of a blond fae with cat ears doing something by the counter, and can’t believe my eyes.
“Nelsin?”
He turns and puts a hand over his chest. “I didn’t see you. My lady! You’re back!”
