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I made a sound. I needed something. What did I need?
Goosebumps broke out over my arms as I made contact with the cold surface of the divan. I tried to reach for him. Demos. That voice. That scent. I clawed the air until I felt him.
“Shh… melos,” he whispered in my ear. “All will be fine. You did well.” He untangled my hands from his person and laid them on my lap.
What felt like seconds later, a glass vial pressed against my bottom lip, and a hand was at my nape, lifting my head. “Drink, miss. Servant Demos said it will ease you.”
The liquid was cool and had a pleasant berry taste.
“There, good girl.” Mother hovered above me with a wet cloth. She bathed my forehead and throat in its coolness as my eyesight started clearing a bit.
“What’s wrong with me?” I asked, still woozy.
“Probably too much celebration, I would say.” Mother added another cool cloth, this time to the back of my neck. “You’ve had a lot on you this week, my dear. And with the sun, the food, all the excitement? You need to rest. As soon as you’re able, I want you in bed.”
I looked around. It was only Mother and my watcher with me in the front room. No sign of Servant Demos.
Gods, how embarrassing! The Fealty Bride fainting like a hot house flower.
I shut my eyes again and took several shallow breaths, praying the dizziness would go away soon. Once it passed, I sat up gingerly, grabbed onto Lucinda’s hand, and let her lead me to my room. Mother went ahead of us, and by the time we made it inside, she had the bed turned down and was waiting beside it as I slipped out of my dress and in between the cool sheets.
“Sleep, dearest.” Mother ran her fingers through my hair and kissed my forehead. “Lucinda will keep an eye on you.”
I mumbled something, my eyes heavy, my limbs as limp as noodles.
The lights dimmed, and soon I was dreaming of the halls of Goth Mor Helle.
Of course, I’d never been there before, but my imagination painted in every trail, every brick, every eave.
In this dream, I was running barefoot over a blanket of snow. My hair was down, falling over my shoulders and down my back, fluttering behind me as I ran. I was dressed in a white linen slip, and my bare arms and legs welcomed the cool air.
I heard laughter behind me, and the sound had me running faster, making me laugh out as well. I felt free and pure as I ran onward. The morning sun was just waking, casting the snow in a magical, glittering glow.
Up ahead, I turned left, then ran along the courtyard, climbing the steps by twos as I rushed to the massive doors that would bring me inside. When I got to the landing, the doors opened like a beast’s maw. There stood a man, tall, lean, handsome. His eyes were black, but not a matte color; they shone like gemstones, or how the surface of water looked at night during a crescent moon. Gasping for breath, I stared into those eyes, not able to look away.
He opened his mouth to say something, but a force knocked into me, pushing me with the strength of a storm. I tried to yell, to turn around, to move, but I was frozen. Falling, falling…
“Miss?” Lucinda whispered nearby.
I blinked my heavy eyelids a few times. A candle burned by my bedside, and the form of my watcher came into view. My heart was pounding out a fast rhythm, making me pant. “I’m… I’m all right. A nightmare, I think.”
She handed me a glass of something, and I drank it down eagerly. Water. Cool and sweet.
“Oh, that is blessedly good, thank you.” I handed her the empty glass, then laid back on my pillow once more. “What time is it?”
“It is near dawn. I heard you tossing and turning, and I came to check on you. How are you feeling?”
“Better. I think.” I wiggled my fingers and toes and shook out my arms. No weariness, just sleepiness. “Guess I was just overtired.” Yawning, I turned on my side and watched as Lucinda poured more water into the empty glass.
“That is good to hear. I haven’t seen you that pale in my life, miss. You had your mother and I very worried.”
I winced at the memory of Demos carrying me.
“Are you in pain?” she asked.
I laughed softly. “Oh, just my pride.”
Touching my forehead with cool fingers, Lucinda tsked. “Better than falling on the ground with your skirts up for all and sundry to see.”
