Vienne’s husband was a dick. Period.

I couldn’t believe he’d talked Caulder into making the promise of taking her baby from her for any reason. It pissed me off on all kinds of levels, not only because it insured our separation and put more undue stress and strain on her, but I had thought the king and his cousin would have more faith in her than that. My one true love was an honest, loyal woman. Fuck them for having any kind of doubt she wasn’t.

Though Vienne hadn’t thought I’d been serious about the ale, I did indeed imbibe every night before bed to avoid initiating as much dream sex as possible.

It sucked. Life dragged on. But all my dreams thus far had been tame and quite unremarkable. I kind of wanted to gouge myself in the gut with a spoon to bear sleep without them, but I couldn’t handle Vienne growing even more stressed or guilty because of them, so…I suffered through. They were only dreams, after all.

Except I missed them. And I think Vienne did too. For not even a week later, she fell asleep first, prompting a dream like none other. I swear, we did nothing but fuck in it the entire time, in every way imaginable.

It started out in the dining hall, innocent enough. Every royal was seated in our usual places, eating scorpion, when she glanced up and across the table directly at me. When I looked up as well and met her gaze, something overcame her. She swiped out her hand, shoving her meal off the table and out of her way so she could crawl up onto and right over her plate, then hop down onto the floor on the other side to stalk toward me, demanding, “Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”

My gaze showed surprise, a forkful of scorpion meat halfway to my mouth, when I answered, “I’ve been trying to be a good boy,” which in all honesty, was the truth.

But she answered, “I don’t want a good boy. I just want you.” And she climbed up onto the table in front of me, shoving my dinner out of her way so she could slide into my lap, straddling my hips and slam herself down onto my cock.

Of course, our clothes had already disappeared by that point and I slid right up inside her. And right there, in front of everyone, she took me, wild and free, bouncing on my lap until we both came with mad shouts of joy, while everyone else ate their supper around us as if nothing whatsoever interesting was going on between us.

Gripping my face hard between her hands, she told me, “You are mine. Mine, do you hear me? Stop trying to hide from that.”

“Yes, my lady,” I told her, still panting and settling down from my high. “I am yours completely. As you are mine.” Closing my eyes, I lifted my face to kiss her, but my lips only seemed to find hair.

When I opened my lashes, the dream had morphed to the Throne Room, where I had just buried my face into the hair at the back of her neck as I bent her over Caulder’s royal chair, lifted her skirt and took her from behind.

After that, I fucked her against the wall of clear rock in the East Salon, and then she spread me out on my back on the mattress in her bedchambers and climbed onto my lap. There were a couple other rooms we made love in, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, once in a loch in the forest outside the castle, once on top of the castle’s curtain wall under the cloudy sun. She even dreamed about us riding on the back of a dragon together as it flew through the skies while I kissed her madly and thrust up inside her.

She told me she never wanted to wake up and that she was happy with me. Agreeing wholeheartedly, I just kissed her and took her again, in some new, inventive way.

I woke the next morning with her erotic whispers still echoing in my ear. Soaked with sweat and exhausted from a marathon night of dream sex, I could only lie there a moment and smile up at my ceiling, more satisfied than I could remember feeling in a long time.

That had been a good day. I trained with the men as I’d never trained before and felt alive and ready to tackle the world.

Until dinner that evening.

Vienne absolutely refused to even look at me across the banquet table. Her shoulders hunched over her food in misery, her face went pale, and her eyes turned sunken and haunted. I knew exactly why. She couldn’t stop remembering the dream of us together in this very room.

When she lurched to her feet halfway through the meal and asked Caulder if she could be excused, all the vigor and cheer I’d experienced that day died a bitter death. While I’d been having a glorious time after the dream, she’d been drenched in shame and remorse.

It seemed as if one of us couldn’t be happy without the other being miserable.

I refrained from spirits that night; it didn’t seem to matter if I drank myself to sleep or not. We were going to dream about each other no matter what. And it was going to tear her apart inside.

Unless…

I stayed up late, trying to avoid sleep altogether, because if one of us was awake, then we couldn’t share dreams at all, now could we? Maybe that was the answer; we’d just have to sleep at different times from here on out.

Except that didn’t work either. I tried my damnedest to stay alert and awake the entire night, but I drifted off at some point, only to jerk awake in the wee hours to my mate’s distress. At first, I thought I was stuck in one of her awful nightmares where that bitch of a headmistress at the girl’s school she’d attended would come in and beat her arms and the backs of her legs with a cane to “improve” her behavior.

I abhorred those dreams. That fucking academy they’d sent her to had been detestable. Every instructor had treated her like shit. I always wanted to climb out of her skin and start kicking ass when I saw what abuse she’d suffered, but I was helpless, forced to experience it with her as she relived the memories over and over again in her sleep.

Thank God, tonight wasn’t one of those dreams. When I realized I was looking at the ceiling in my own bedchamber from my own point of view, and everything was too clear to be a dream, I pinched myself.

Yep. Definitely awake. Groggy, but awake.

The distress hit me again. It seeped into my consciousness until I bolted upright, fully alert.

Vienne!

She was unwell.

Not in pain but definitely not happy.

Flinging off the sheets, I landed barefoot on the rug before grabbing a single pair of trousers and tugging them on as I sprang toward the door. Forgoing a shirt and shoes, I hurried into the hall barefoot and jogged toward her wing of the castle.

I didn’t know what was wrong. She wasn’t in pain or necessarily heartbroken or scared, but she was clearly distressed.

Oh, hell. Had the bearer of dark magic gotten to her and bewitched her?

Dammit. I’d forgotten my sword and dagger back in my bedchamber. But I didn’t want to waste time going back for them, so I hurried headlong toward her without thought.

When I drew near enough to hear the distinct wails of an infant, I broke into a full sprint, imagining Vienne lying dead at the foot of her child’s crib—even though I rationally knew she was physically fine, meaning she couldn’t be dead—so when I burst into her room, and found her alive and well, pacing the floor with the babe, I stupidly slumped against the doorframe, drained from the overabundance of relief.

“Holy fuck.” I pressed a hand to my heart. “Thank God you’re okay.”

She turned at my voice, revealing panic and a red face full of tears.

Honestly, I couldn’t tell who was crying harder: her or the child.

“Okay!?” she wailed, clutching the screaming infant to her chest. “You call this okay? I can’t get her to stop. I’m too sleep-deprived as it is. I’ve lost any patience and nurturing instinct I ever had twenty minutes ago, and I just keep having this vision of shaking her until she shuts up. Isn’t that awful? Oh God. I’m so awful. I’m the worst mother ever.” More tears flooded her cheeks as her shoulders began to shake from her sobs. “What kind of monster thinks such things about their own daughter? My baby. My precious little baby.”

The last few sentences were nearly indecipherable through her sobbing hiccups. She wept over the girl, crying for all she was worth, and for some reason it made me smile out a soft laugh.

Yawning, I ran my hand through my hair. “Who thinks such thoughts? Every exhausted parent who’s had to get up in the middle of the night with a cranky child, I suspect.”

Vienne snapped a glare my way. “This isn’t amusing.”

Instantly sobering, I nodded. “I know, my lady. I apologize for smiling.” Pushing away from the door, I strolled toward her. “Where’s your nursemaid? I’d say you need a bit of a break.”

Her scowl only increased, turning petulant. “I don’t have a nursemaid. I should be able to handle this myself. Every mother takes care of her own child. I won’t be any different.”

“My nanny always told me it took an entire village to raise a child,” I offered helpfully, though the words only earned me a glare. “Come now, my lady. No one can handle a baby completely by themselves.” Wincing as I drew closer, I covered my ears and lifted my voice. “Her lungs are quite healthy. That’s one consolation. Does she have any volume control?”

Vienne laughed, only to burst into tears again. “I love her,” she sobbed, lost in her grief. “How could I ever, even for half a moment, think of hurting her when I love her so much?”

My heart broke as I reached out. “Thinking something doesn’t mean you actually would’ve hurt her. You’re drained and at the end of your rope, sweetheart. She knows you love her. You just need a break. Do you want me to hold her for a spell?”

When I held out my hands, Vienne backed away and shook her head violently. She looked wild with her face wet, hair a mess, and eyes shiny and vague from lack of sleep. “No, I should be able to comfort her. Why can’t I just fucking comfort her?”

I nodded, realizing she was going to be a stubborn case. “Then let me comfort you,” I said.

She only blinked at me, clearly not understanding. When I reached for her elbow, she let me take her arm and lead her to the rocking chair.

“I don’t need… What’re you doing?” was all she asked, her expression curious, before I sat in the chair and pulled her down into my lap, while her child settled into hers.

When she tensed in my arms, I murmured, “Shh,” and stroked her hair. “It’s going to be okay, little mama. She can’t cry forever. She’ll wear herself out eventually.”

Another tear trickled down her cheek as she looked into my eyes. “I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’ve fed her, changed her, sang to her, rocked her, walked with her, left her alone in her crib, everything. Now, the crying is just driving me crazy. I need it to stop.”

I nodded. “The sound really does make it feel as if someone is sticking an irritatingly sharp needle right into the center of my brain.”

Sniffing, she nodded too. “It does. It really does.”

I chuckled and kissed her temple. Then I started to hum softly, a tune I remembered from my dreams.

Vienne only blinked. “We danced to this together. In a dream.”

I nodded and kept humming.

Baby Anniston kept wailing, not a fan of my voice. She went on for another five minutes or so until the wails eventually settled into sobs and the sobs became whimpers. When the whimpers turned into the occasional sniffle in her sleep, the baby’s mother finally looked up at me from fatigued brown eyes.

“You did it,” she slurred sleepily.

I shook my head and smiled softly. “No. I just relaxed you enough so you could do it.”

She blinked, and all the muscles in her body seemed to simultaneously go lax in my arms. “I’m so tired,” she admitted.

“Then sleep, my lady. I’ll make sure you both get tucked into your beds, warm and snug.”

Her head wavered a second before she let it settle against my shoulder. I felt her lashes sweep across my skin as she shut her eyes.

“This is just another dream, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“Of course,” I lied, kissing her temple. “Do you really think a wonderful mother like yourself would ever need me to help her settle her crying baby?”

“Oh good,” came the muffled reply against my nipple. “Because this would be quite improper if it were really happening.”

“Quite,” I agreed, kissing her hair this time and inhaling the scent of her flowery soap.

“You’re not wearing a shirt,” she slurred. “You’re so warm. I like how smooth and muscled you are.”

My chest rattled with a silent laugh until her hand smoothed up the side of my torso, causing me to groan. When her tongue licked over my nipple, I tensed, gouging her in the bottom with the strength of my erection.

“Vienne,” I warned, clutching her hair, but she’d already gone lax and dropped off to sleep.

A light snore answered me.

“God, you tease me,” I murmured into her hair, kissing her temple one last time. “But whenever you need me, I will come. Always.”

She had no response as she remained slumped deadweight against me. I smiled again, my heart heavy with affection as I managed to stand with both her and her baby cradled in my arms.

I laid her on the bed first, then managed to pry Anniston from her arms without waking either of them. The baby let out a final sniffle and curled into a warm little ball when I settled her into her crib. I stared at the infant a while, because once she was asleep, it was hard to feel any kind of irritation toward her. She was honestly that cute with her rump in the air, her legs tucked up under her and her lips parted as she dreamed.

Reaching out, I lightly stroked Anniston’s cheek. “Someday, I hope you realize how lucky you are to have a mother who loves you so much.”

Then I returned to Vienne and pulled her blankets up over her. She slept on, so I sat beside her to watch her sleep for a few moments longer.

When I returned to my room, I fell into my bed almost immediately and slept so soundly, I don’t remember what Vienne and I dreamed about. I must’ve slept in, too, because when I woke, there was a tapping at my door.

“My lord,” Emmett, one of my servants from High Cliff, queried hesitantly as he eased the door open. “Are you awake?”

With a groan, I flopped onto my back and yawned up at the ceiling. “I am now,” I mumbled, even though my brain seemed to be having a hard time focusing. “What do you need?”

The servants never usually woke me. If I slept in, they simply left a breakfast tray in my room and let me be.

“Apparently it’s a holiday here in Donnelly today. Their fifty-seventh anniversary as a kingdom, I believe. That’s what the young princess Nicolette told me, anyway. And she said… She bade me to ask you, since she thus has no tutor lessons and you also do not have training with your army on such a day, that if you’d like to take a stroll with her through the garden at half past ten, she’d be most honored.”

When I merely blinked at him, trying to digest everything he’d just said, he flushed and cleared his throat, adding, “She also told me to add that she’d be inviting her favorite cousin-in-law as well as her infant along for the walk.”

I sat up suddenly, definitely awake now. Giddy over the prospect of getting to see Vienne, I shoved the blankets off me and climbed out of bed. Emmett grinned knowingly and nodded. “I rather thought that might be your answer.”

I sent him a moody scowl as I stumbled around for something to wear. “What time is it?”

“A quarter after ten, my lord.”

“Fuck!” I shook my head, hoping to clear my vision. Then I frowned at Emmett, who kept smiling at me as he lovingly touched the red mark at the corner of his own eye. “Could you stop grinning like a dumbass and help me out over here? I have no clue what to wear.”

Since I had never requested help dressing before, Emmett jumped in surprise before he lurched into action. “Certainly, my lord. Might I suggest your blue tunic? It matches your complexion well, and—”

“Yes, sure. Whatever.” I snatched the piece of cloth from his hand as soon as he opened a drawer and pulled it free. “Thanks, Emmett. You’re a godsend.”

Even with his help, however, I was nearly late for my stroll with Nicolette…and her favorite cousin-in-law.

The three of them—Nicolette, Vienne, and Anniston—were waiting at the exit that led into the garden when I hurried outside to meet them.