“Yes. You are nearly as powerful as Oneira. Possibly more so because you areofthe Dream. She is your maker. She has to be. There is no one else who could have accomplished this feat and so you owe her. I wonder if she didn’t create you with this exact rescue in mind.”
Well, no, she hadn’t because Thorn was Rose’s maker, though Rose certainly wasn’t going to say that aloud. “I don’t know how,” she said instead.
“No one does, but you will find a way. You have Adsila to guide you.”
“Adsila can guide me?” She leapt on that interesting piece of information. The kestrel trilled an affirmative. Could this be why the avatar had come to her? Moriah and Bunny had been assisting Thorn and Sebastien. It could be that She Who Eats Bears had sent Adsila not to assist with vengeance, but with rescuing Oneira. She didn’t know why the goddess would be invested in the lives of a few mortals, but who understood the minds of deities.
“In this way you can atone for the anathema of your existence,” Master Zoltan informed her, his disdain leaking through his stiff manner. “You will do this for me, for Oneira, or I will see to it that you are returned to the Dream where you rightfully belong.”
“Yes, Master Zoltan,” she replied, hoping a seemingly dutiful answer would appease him.
“You will have difficulty circumventing His Majesty’s will and service, though I’ve no doubt the prince knows nothing of your true nature. You have been quite clever in your ability to fool everyone into believing you are only a human woman and not an abomination, but I know. Your cleverness will aid you in this quest, but never forget that the blood geas binds you. If you fail to act on this, I will see to it that the king shortens your leash.”
Rose stood, Adsila flexing her talons in more than reflexive balancing. Also angered, the avatar mantled, her blood runninghot at the professor’s threats. Monster Zoltan, indeed. Sebastien had seen him clearly. “I’ll need your final certification sent to His Majesty,” Rose said coolly. “If the king is to hold that leash.”
Zoltan frowned at her. “Don’t think to play games with me, phantasm. I am a master of oneiromancy and you are simply a figment of the Dream.”
“Then allow me to vanish from your presence,” she said, and left him behind.
For she had conceived an idea. A way to outwit them all and secure true freedom for herself.
Clotaire had sent a message for her to meet him at Prince Rupert’s hunting lodge the day after the wedding and contract-signing, a location she found hugely ironic, given Sebastien’s tales about Rotten Rupert and the horrible hunting trip there. Rose wasn’t at all sure what this indicated, except that her father had a closer relationship with Rupert than one would expect for a sorcerer contracted to another kingdom, albeit one much more minor than Soren’s. Part of Clotaire’s grand scheme, no doubt, which Rose intended to stay very far away from.
Oh, she would meet with her father, but it would not go the way he expected. None of them would ever be part of his schemes again, and now she knew exactly how to shed the last of her chains.
31
It took a great deal of getting used to—the overwhelming grandeur of Castle Vega, even after being tutored at the hunting lodge for several more days taught Thorn much of what she needed to know. The sheer number of people crowding and congratulating her, everyone calling her Rose, made Thorn’s head swim.
Thorn. Rose. Lily. Lilythorn. All the names danced in and out of her ears until she couldn’t remember who she was.
But Sebastien never strayed from her side, gallantly protecting and shielding her, quietly explaining anything that confused her, his love never more apparent than demonstrated by his constant thoughtfulness. She couldn’t imagine how Clotaire had thought she would pull off this deception on her own. Sebastien’s attentive affection was the best part of being at Castle Vega, but she loved what he’d called the glitter—the lovely gowns, the feasts, the parties. She’d even had a joyful reunion with Esmerelda the chicken, who Sebastien insisted remembered her, but she wasn’t sure if he was only being kind.
And His Majesty, who Sebastien had warned her might be intimidating and standoffish, treated her like a long-lost daughter. He suggested combining the contract-signing with the wedding, the jovial king so unlike Sebastien’s wry description of his father that Thorn commented about it to him at one point.
“He’s happy,” Sebastien replied in a dry tone. “That’s part of why everyone at court adores you. Not that they wouldn’t anyway,” he added hastily, “but a gleeful King Soren means a court not walking on eggshells for a few days.”
“He’s right,” Princess Ali put in.
“Such a relief for everyone,” Princess Dianna agreed.
Sebastien’s two sisters had been spending a great deal of time in Thorn’s apartments, keeping her company and offering advice on being a woman navigating Soren’s court. They had not been let in on the secret, however. Only Thorn’s mother, father, sister, and she were supposed to know the truth. Sebastien did, but only Rose and Shoshan knew that. Everyone else must continue to believe she was Rose. Keeping track of it all made Thorn’s head ache, too. At least she’d mastered the skill of warding her own dreams. It hadn’t even been all that difficult, especially compared to learning to walk the Dream.
The rooms were dazzlingly beautiful, seven of them all together. There were two sleeping chambers, a bathing chamber, a private sitting room, a formal receiving room, a dining room, and a glassed-in atrium with plants that people called the morning room. The private and formal sitting rooms had glass doors also, that led into the gardens outside. Everyone had emphasized to Thorn what the king’s generosity implied. His Majesty was delighted to have acquired her as his court oneiromancer and as a daughter-in-law. By extension, King Soren was happy with Sebastien, who would live with her in the glamorous apartments on visits to Castle Vega and then after he graduated.
“Who knew our father was even capable of being so happy?” Sebastien inquired blandly from where he sprawled in a chair near his sisters, holding a pastry in one hand and stroking Bunny’s ears with the other. Nonna hovered hopefully on the pastry side.
“He was happy with Este,” Dianna said wistfully.
“Sebastien’s mother,” Ali explained to Thorn.
“You haven’t talked about her very much,” Thorn said to Sebastien, going to thread her fingers through his hair. She loved having that privilege, able to touch him whenever she wanted.
He grinned at her, gave the rest of the pastry to Bunny, andpulled her onto his lap, snuggling her close. “There’s not much to say. Everyone else knows far more about her than I do.”
“That’s very sad, though,” Thorn said. Shoshan had been compelled to return to her duties as a sorceress and Thorn already missed her. She also missed Rose, oddly enough, and wondered what she was doing. Rose had apparently said mysterious things about “research” and no one had heard from her since she left the hunting lodge, which worried Thorn that there were things she still didn’t know. Everyone at Castle Vega had been so kind, though, that she felt a little guilty being anything less than perfectly happy.
“It’s a little sad, Lilythorn,” Sebastien agreed, nuzzling her neck and making her giggle, and also that sensual simmer to light up her blood like champagne. She’d had that for the first time, too, and loved it. Sparkling wine seemed like something the fairies might make.
