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I fumbled my way out of bed, my legs tangling in the skirt of my nightgown, and I decided this had to be the most unsettling of the unusual dreams I’d been having. I’d never had a sex dream before. It was quite embarrassing. I was actually relieved the prince wasn’t allowed to talk to me because I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look him in the eye again after this. I’d so eagerly taken him into my body—in my dream, anyway—that I felt shameful and dirty. And yet secretly, I also felt more powerful than ever.
How was I supposed to recover from this?
Shaking my head, I returned to reality.
Anniston was wet, so I changed her into some dry clothes, and then offered her a drink, which she never turned down, but my nerves continued to twitch with after-effects of that dream. I almost wished I’d had the bloody, gory nightmare of the soldier dying again, except no…no. In all honesty, this one had been wonderful and exhilarating.
I got Anniston back to sleep within half an hour, but it took me much longer than that to settle in myself. When I did, I dreamed of a young Allera. She and I were sneaking through a cold, drafty castle until we found our way outside. Once we were free from the interior, we took off racing over a meadow toward a copse of trees.
I was winning, and it felt good to beat her. This was the first time I’d ever beaten her in a footrace. She didn’t like losing, either, which made it all the sweeter.
“Urban,” she yelled, racing after me, her voice out of breath. “Wait!”
I woke on another gasp, the name Urban echoing through my head like a gonging cymbal. Wondering why I’d dreamed I was actually him that time, I rose for the day, deciding I didn’t want to sleep any longer. My unconscious thoughts were becoming quite unsettling. Besides, the sun was coming up, and there was a wedding to attend.
I couldn’t decide if I was more excited about the prospect of a royal wedding or that I was actually going to get to leave my room for the first time since having Anniston, because I was so ready to leave this room.
The maid who brought me breakfast every morning bustled in with a tray, and the two healers weren’t far behind. They looked me over as I ate, and neither woman could find a reason why I couldn’t leave my bedchamber, especially since I was getting around easier than both of them could.
Then Anniston woke, and I had to feed her again. After that, another pair of maids arrived to help me wash and change into the dress I was going to wear to the wedding. We had to pause multiple times because the baby kept getting fussy. My little girl was already quite spoiled and liked to be held nonstop. So one maid finally agreed to hold her while the other helped me prepare.
We were just finishing with my hair when a knock came at my door. Wincing because I feared it may be Soren—since he’d visited every day for the past two weeks—I paused to sigh before reluctantly calling, “Come in.”
When Nicolette entered instead, I sent her a relieved smile. She appeared to be set for the wedding already and wore a new dress. “Oh, you look stunning.”
“Thank you.” Clutching the skirts of her dress, she bounded over. “You look well too.” Then she seemed to really look at me, because her mouth dropped open. “Actually, you look really well. Like you were never pregnant at all. I remember Soren’s first wife never quite looked the same after she had her babies.”
I glanced down at myself and shrugged. “It must be part of the unnatural healing process I went through.” Which made me think of the reason I had healed so unnaturally, which led me to memories of the dreams I’d just had, which further sparked a flush of guilt inside me.
The man had not only saved my life, keeping my baby from being motherless, but he was directly responsible for how healthy I was now. Yet all I’d done in return was have illicit dreams about him and request that he stay away from me. It made me feel terrible. I’d only wanted to avoid all possible altercations between him and my husband—to keep the peace—but having those dreams about him on top of it… I must look so selfish and ungrateful. I wished I could just explain to him that I meant him no ill will; I just thought his distance from me was for the best.
“I was wondering if we could go down to the chapel together and sit by each other throughout the ceremony,” Nicolette asked, pausing next to me to touch a butterfly barrette the maid had just put in my hair.
I looked up at her, confused. “I thought Allera wanted you to be her lady’s maid.”
The princess rolled her eyes. “Oh. No. I mean, yes, originally, she did. But Yasmin decided she wanted the honor instead. Allera tried to talk her out of it, of course. But she’s not nearly as unassumingly or smoothly persuasive as you are, so…” She shrugged. “Yasmin got her way, and I’m just a regular guest, like you, today.”
I shook my head. “Nothing about you is regular, my lady. You are one-of–a-kind remarkable, and I’d be delighted to sit with you.”
“Good. Shall we head down, then? I think they’re about ready to start.”
“Oh!” I checked the time and rose from my chair. “I’m sorry. I quite lost track of the hour. Let me fetch Anniston.”
“Is she coming too?” Nicolette brightened as I took the babe from the maid who’d been bouncing her. “How precious. I love the little dress she’s in. And look, the booties actually fit. You did so well with them.”
I didn’t mention that the booties on her feet weren’t the pair I’d made, because those indeed hadn’t fit. This set had come from a sweet maid who’d given them to me as a gift. Clearing my throat, I glanced away and murmured, “I think we’re ready.”
“Great.” Nicolette led the way to the door. “I saw Brentley this morning. He’s nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”
I laughed. “I rather thought he’d be eager. He seems to like Princess Allera a great deal.”
“Oh, he’s that too, for sure. But I think he’s worried something else may delay today’s attempt at a wedding.”
“I hope that’s not the case. If the marriage is rescheduled too many times, the alliance between High Cliff and Donnelly may suffer.”
We chatted the rest of the way down to the chapel where the wedding was to take place, talking about the possibility of the wedding making it through to the end, and then moving on to the topic of how much Anniston was growing. I’d forgotten about any nerves I’d been having until we entered the room and the first voice I heard was my husband’s.
“Remember what I warned you, High Cliff bastard,” he was saying, catching both Nicolette’s attention and mine. “If you talk to her, if you come within twenty feet of her, if you so much as look at her—”
