“Thank you,” he sighed happily. “I know my courtly behavior needs to be toned down. Consider it a defense mechanism I need to unlearn. I’ll learn from you. Or unlearn from you. That’s one of the many reasons I like you: I know you’ll always be honest with me.”
“How could you know that?” she asked, taken aback—and feeling a bit chagrined that she’d already been dishonest with him, at least in her mind. “You know nothing about me.”
“Not true. I’ve been paying attention to you. How you hold yourself apart, not pandering to anyone, always saying exactly and only what you mean.”
“Am I those things?” she asked, more bemused than anything.
“Yes. And I want to know more. Be my teacher, Rose.Introduction to Behaving Like a Normal Person.”
She suppressed a laugh. “Quite the challenge—and I only have so much time.”
“Make time,” he suggested. “And, in exchange, perhaps there are some things I can teach you?” He purred the question, insinuating all sorts of sensual knowledge that she suspected wasn’t bragging.
“We’re not allowed to form liaisons,” she informed him, in case no one had thought to tell the prince there was something he couldn’t do. “Even casual friendships are strongly discouraged.”
He twinkled at her, tsking. “Surely you’re not telling me you slavishly follow all of the silly, stultifying rules here at HASP? It’s not as if they’re going to expel you. You’re the prize pupil.”
True. She hadn’t thought of it that way. “Still, I must insist upon discretion.” Her father wouldn’t like it. He preferred thatshe focus on the ambitious goals he’d set for her. Especially with only a few months left and Master Zoltan still holding off on teaching her to physically enter the Dream. “And my studies must take priority. My career depends upon it.”
Sebastien laid a hand over his heart. “As my queen commands, so shall it be. I shall be the soul of discretion and subsist on whatever discarded petals my midnight rose cares to cast my way.”
She laughed aloud at that, unable to help herself. “First lesson: no more rose metaphors.”
He grinned. This was the real smile, she thought to herself. “I’ve wanted to make you laugh,” he said softly, with sincerity. “There’s only one sound I want to hear more.”
Catching her breath at the surge of desire, her face heating, she found herself breathless. “What… What would that be?” she dared to ask.
His expression intense, green eyes hot, he leaned in and she thought he might try to kiss her and she braced herself, unsure if she’d like it. Instead he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, which she didn’t love, but didn’t hate either. Interesting. He whispered, “The moment it happens, I’ll let you know.”
“I look forward to it,” she replied. And she truly did.
7
Thorn bent herself to studying her newly acquired texts with vengeance—as much as being surreptitious about it allowed. She ended up with plenty of time to do it, however. In the weeks following Oneira’s nocturnal visit, Jada had spent most of her time closeted in the library, taking inventory over and over, attempting to make sense of the theft.
Thorn tried to feel bad about that part. By covering up her own illicit borrowing, she’d muddied the evidence of this Oneira’s purpose. Jada couldn’t make sense of itbecauseit made no sense. But the confusion worked in Thorn’s favor: as long as she kept the meals coming, their clothes washed and mended, the animals cared for, and the cottage clean, Jada left her entirely to her own devices. With no gardening to do, as winter had not quite yet yielded her grip to gentler spring, Thorn ended up with a fair amount of free time to study, easily able to hear Jada’s approach in time to stow whichever text she was reading in a preprepared hiding place. She no longer felt any sense of guilt or obligation toward Jada, especially when she verified that sheshouldbe dreaming, that everyone did. No one grew out of it.
That salient and startling bit of information confirmed what the cat Moriah had told her. Not that she’d doubted Moriah, but given that Thorn had lived her life thus far in a tangled nest of half-truths and outright deception, she’d come to value the importance of verifying information from multiple sources for herself. It helped her feel like she could put a steady finger on what was real and what wasn’t.
Discovering that Jada had lied about the reason Thorn no longer dreamed like she remembered doing as a child, on top oflearning that oneiromancy was a magic based on dreams—and that Oneira was the greatest oneiromancer of all—had made Thorn realize that the most reasonable conclusion was that Jada had somehow stopped Thorn from dreaming.
More, Jada clearly didn’t want Thorn to know about the existence of oneiromancy. But why?
The answer mattered, so Thorn focused on books related to oneiromancy, regretting only that she hadn’t stolen more of them. She had learned a great deal from the couple she’d taken, but not enough.
Fortunately, Jada’s turmoil over the visit and theft distracted her from her immediate plans to take another midwinter journey, giving Thorn a margin of time to prepare for the next imposed sleep. Once she exhausted the books on oneiromancy, she let that avalanche of information settle into the back of her mind, and turned back to analyzing the Sleep of Ages enchantment. The oneiromancy books indicated that a sorcerer skilled in that arena could both put people to sleep and affect their dreams.
That explained Jada’s more-than-anticipated sleepiness during Oneira’s visit. Through sheer coincidence, Oneira had cast a sleepiness spell over Jada on the exact evening Thorn had attempted her clumsier, far weaker attempt via herbs. Jada knew about Oneira’s abilities and thus ascribed that sleep event entirely to the thief. However, Thorn had not been affected and, according to what she’d read, she should have been. But Oneira also hadn’t fully detected Thorn’s presence in the very same room, and she should have.
So, Thorn had concluded two things about Jada. She must be an oneiromancer herself, the way she could prevent Thorn from dreaming. Thorn didn’t know why, when Jada induced the Sleep of Ages on Thorn, she remained aware. All the books indicated the sleeper shouldn’t know. One of the puzzles Thorn had yet to solve. The other conclusion was that Thorn herself was wardedin some fashion that prevented Oneira—possibly anyone—from detecting her presence.
Thorn had been hidden away in this cottage in the deep woods, buried under multiple layers of wards, including the ones woven into the climbing roses along the fence, for Thorn’s safety.
But safety from what?
Possibly from threats like the sorceress who had so easily invaded their home, but in that case, the wards had failed. The sorceress had bypassed them and come and gone as she pleased. No wonder the event had rattled Jada so.
Thorn suspected she would never know what danger the world posed to her until she had freed herself. But she had come to one more inescapable conclusion: that she herself must also be capable of oneiromancy. Else, Jada wouldn’t care so very much about keeping her ignorant of that particular magic—along with anything that might help her break the wards. Thorn must learn to employ this forbidden magic.
