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“That’s how you tell the difference, you know. If you see it from his point of view, he’s leading the dream. If you see it from yours, you are.”
“Good God,” I gasped, pressing my hand against the base of my throat as I glanced wildly about the room, hoping no one was listening in on this conversation. “So… So he knows? He knows I’ve been having dreams about us… About…?”
Heavens above. This was bad. This was so awkwardly, uncomfortably, embarrassingly bad.
Allera threw her head back and laughed. “Oh yes, he knows. And I’m sure he’s extremely smug about it too.”
“It’s not funny,” I muttered. “I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.”
“Like you look him in the eye now.” There was something slightly resentful and snide in Allera’s tone, which made me straighten with surprise.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked hesitantly.
Allera merely shrugged and glanced away. “Nothing. Really. It’s just… Never mind. Forget I said anything. The overprotective big sister in me is trying to come out, I fear.”
“No, please,” I pressed softly. “Tell me. Have I offended you?”
“Not me,” she said, giving me a look. “Urban. You just… Well, the way you wanted him kept away from you irritated me. It was as if you thought he had some rare disease that was contagious. Don’t go near Urban, he’s suffering from true love, I mustn’t catch that.”
“I don’t think that way,” I cried.
“Or maybe you’re afraid he’s going to throw you down and rape you because he just can’t control his raging hormones,” she went on moodily. “Or maybe you think he’ll try to woo you away from your husband, because what a pity that would be.” She rolled her eyes. “You do realize he’d never harm you, or disrespect you, or even remotely try to get you to do anything you don’t want to do, right?”
“I… Of course, I know that. I just—”
“No, clearly, you don’t,” Allera lashed out suddenly. “Not really. Because, let me tell you something, My Lady Vienne.” Seething, she shifted closer to me. “He values your life now more than he does his own. More than he does mine. He would never do anything that would make you even slightly uncomfortable. He will respect you and your stupid wishes and everything you value. He will do whatever he can within his power to see that you’re happy, or he’ll die trying. So tell me, after all that, could it hurt you even a little to at least be friendly to the man instead of ignore his entire existence and command him to stay away from you forever?”
My lips parted in shock, a little hurt she felt this way about me. I wasn’t sure what to say. Should I tell her I’d already agreed to give him some attention or let her know he could be beheaded because of me if we got too close?
Stuttering, I ended up tumbling out the words, “I… I never meant to hurt him. I just… I didn’t want to lead him on or let him think I would ever betray my husband for him or… I don’t know. It just seemed safer—better—to avoid all contact.”
“Better for you or for him?”
“For both of us,” I answered honestly.
I hadn’t wanted to crave something I knew I could never have. And so far, everything I knew about Urban Bjorn seemed definitely crave-worthy. Getting too close to him might hurt; it might damage any sense of hope I’d ever had, over inflate it until it was too big for me to handle.
“Well, it’s not better for him,” Allera grumbled, standing to pace with the baby when Anniston started to fuss in her arms. “Trust me, he knows where your loyalties lie. He won’t try to steal you away from Soren. He’d never try to force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. And I realize I keep repeating that, but it’s true. You don’t have to worry about him crossing any lines. You just don’t. So that’s why it’s hard for me to understand why you won’t even...” She paused and closed her eyes as if seeking patience with herself before turning toward me again, her gaze full of pleading. “It would make his day just to receive a smile or a simple hello every once in a while from you.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize until last night how much I could help him with such small acts of kindness.”
“Last night?” She frowned, obviously confused.
Feeling caught, I only stared, but Allera sighed and sat back down. “And don’t apologize. I’m the one who should apologize. I shouldn’t have said all that to you. Urban would kill me if he knew I’d been so harsh.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m glad you said what you were thinking. Thank you for your honesty.”
Allera’s gaze softened. “Well, thank you for
telling me about Jazon.”
Before either of us could say another word, Urban rushed into the room, out of breath. It was obvious he’d come straight from the training field; he wore dark, tight woolen pants that hugged impressive thighs, a light, loose linen tunic with a snug quilted sleeveless vest over that, and his sword belt cinched at the waist. But the part that captured my attention was the leather codpiece between his legs, sewn to his pants with thick cords to secure it into place. It was the first—possibly the only—thing I could focus on as he skidded to a halt in front of us, darting worried glances between Allera and me as he panted out of breath.
I knew the codpiece was purely for protective purposes, but all it seemed to do for me was call attention to what I knew lay beneath, what I’d felt inside me during our shared dreams.
And oh God, now I couldn’t stop blushing.
“What’s going on?” he demanded in a winded voice.
