Chapter 21

So much blood!

Olivia screamed, and her eyes opened wide.

“Olivia?” Sebastian drew her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. “Hush, now. You were dreaming.” He rocked back and forth, hushing her in soft whispers.

It did little good. Her dream was the most vivid she had had since the time she dreamt of Donovan hovering over her bed.

No matter how much Sebastian soothed her, she could not stop trembling. Cold sweat drenched her nightclothes. She clutched onto him and pinched her eyes together, praying to wash away the memory of her vision. As much as she wanted to dismiss it, she could not keep this one to herself. “Sebastian, I fear we should not go to Thanwine.”

“It was only a dream, Olivia. Whatever you saw was not real.”

“No.” The sun had risen, yet it felt as if darkness still cloaked her world. “Everything was covered in blood. Your father—”

“What of him?” The earnestness in Sebastian’s voice said much. He, too, knew her dreams were more than simple visions. He had claimed that very thing months ago, yet she understood he wanted to disregard them in order to take away her fear.

She inched into an upright position and pulled her knees to her chest, breathing heavily. “He lay in a pool of his own blood.”

“In Thanwine?” Sebastian sat beside her on the bed. His face had gone ashen.

“I do not know. His surroundings were unclear, but there was no denying his face, nor the gash across his throat, and the blood seeping from it.” She buried her head against her knees. “Oh, Sebastian, it was horrid!”

“Shh . . .” He lovingly stroked her hair. “You must calm yourself. Being upset this way is not good for the baby.”

“But what if my dream is a warning? If we remain in Basilia, perhaps my vision will not come to pass.”

“And yet, if you did not see where he was, how can you be certain staying here might not prompt the dream’s happening?”

Her heart raced as if trying to escape her body. “I do not know!” She burst into tears, weary of the attempt to be strong.

Sebastian pulled her close once again. “We cannot stop living, fearing the unknown. It would break Becca’s heart if we did not attend her wedding. Besides, Angeline is looking forward to having you in Thanwine. She said so in her letter.”

“So why does the idea of going there pain my heart?” She laid a hand to her bosom. “I cannot explain it, but I fear if we go, something horrid will happen. Far beyond anything we have dealt with before.”

He took her hand and cupped it inside his. “Father is taking his best sentries with us, including Jonah and Severin. We are on excellent terms with the house of Thanwine, thanks in large part to your friendship with Angeline. Most importantly, Becca will soon be their queen. Their people love her. We have no need to fear being there.”

“If that is so, why take sentries at all?” She studied Sebastian’s face. Nothing he said removed even one ounce of the dread weighing her down.

He shut his eyes and shook his head. “They are a formality, but I thought it would make you feel better being told of their scheduled presence.”

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the corner of the sheet. “It does not help.”

He lay her back onto the pillows. “Then, tell me all you remember. Was my father as he is now, or was he aged?”

Maybe speaking of it would be beneficial.

She shut her eyes to envision all she could. “He was not old, but similar in appearance as he is now, though his beard was shorter.” The misty dream spun through her mind, and she brought a hand to her face and lightly touched her cheek. “There was a wound below his right eye.” She opened her lids and found Sebastian peering down at her. “Similar to the gash you gave Roderick.”

“Father has no such injury.”

She released a sad sigh. “Yet.”

“Olivia. Not all of your dreams have come to fruition. Why are you so certain this vision of my father is genuine?”

She looked away. If only she had told him everything sooner. Hopefully, telling him now would change his mind about going to Thanwine. “There have been other dreams. Just as vivid as this one, and they all flowed red with blood. The only difference is I could never clearly see the faces of those lying dead. Your father’s was the first that fully manifested itself.”

Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. “I cannot erase what the priest told us at our wedding. He warned we would be tested. If your father dies, Frederick will become king.” She sat bolt upright. “What if it is he who kills him?”

“No. Do not even think it.”

Her entire body shook. “What are we to do, Sebastian?”

He circled her with his strong arms. “We keep our eyes open and our ears attuned to everything around us. I will warn my father of your dream.”

“No. Please do not tell him he may die. He would fear every morning’s rising, and it would take away all the joy in his life.”

“Very well. I will not relay that portion of your dream, but I must make him aware we could be in danger.” Sebastian’s head dropped low. “I cannot bear the thought of losing my father, so I pray your vision is only what could happen, not what will.”

“My visions are a curse. They torment me.”

He pushed her hair out of the way and kissed her cheek. “I believe they are a blessed gift from God. He may be trying to warn us, so my father can be spared.”

She shifted on the bed to face him squarely. “When I lived in Padrida, all I ever wanted was to be free. However, freedom has brought more complications than I knew existed. I may have been captive in my own homeland, but my life was relatively carefree and gay. The only decisions I made were what gown to wear each day, how much food to put on my plate, and how much time I wanted to spend at the wall, dreaming of what I could not have. Until Mother urged me to name a suitor, everything was simple.”

“You wish things had not changed.”

The pain in his voice wrenched her heart. “No. I will never regret meeting you. But now and then, I long for simplicity. I am uncertain whether or not I have the strength to face what I know is coming.”

“Which is . . .?”

She swallowed hard. “Death.” Her tears had fully dried, and numbness set in.

“No, Olivia. We will not allow it.” He rested his hand firmly on her stomach. “A new life is in our future. Focus on our child and cast your fears aside.”

She covered his hand with her own. “You are right. I should not be so proud as to think I can prophesy. I am not a prophet, and I am certainly not God. Only He knows what is coming.”

“Do not chide yourself. Your dreams have proved true before. But whatever happens, we will face it together. Hand in hand, never to be separated.” He firmly kissed her lips. “Our love will carry us through, no matter the trials.”

She looked him in the eyes. “Love can only carry us so far. Vow you will continue training with Jonah. I fear soon, your skills will be tested.”

“The other day, you witnessed Jonah and me in fun. But I swear to you, I take swordplay seriously. If the need arises, I will be ready.”

She flung her arms around him and burrowed into his body.

The only peace she held onto was the lack of his dying form in her dreams. The faceless corpses came nowhere close to his stature. Even so, deep in her heart, she knew she would soon experience great loss.

Angeline stumbled into Denali’s door, having consumed more wine than necessary. Although she dreaded it, the time had come for pain.

Before she drowned herself in spirits, Darius and she had engaged in a final romp that lasted longer than most. The man’s virility astonished her, and she prayed Frederick would be as capable. After their dance at the wedding in Oros, she longed to find out. An unexpected spark had ignited between them, and she could not have asked for a more perfect piece of her plan to fall into place so effortlessly.

She pressed her forehead against the healer’s door and knocked.

It flew open, and she tumbled into Denali’s arms.

He grunted, but kept her from falling to the floor. “I have been expecting you for hours. I thought you had changed your mind.”

“Never. Not when everything I have dreamed of is so close to becoming real.” Her words certainly had been slurred, but she cared not.

He held her up with one arm, then shut the door and locked it. “Are you able to disrobe, or do you require my assistance?”

She laughed. “Dear Denali, are you attempting to seduce me?”

He frowned and huffed. “This is not a time for jest, Angeline. Not only do your words pierce my heart with their cruelty, I am already in pain dreading what I must do to you.” He shuffled her across the floor and set her atop his bed.

The room spun around her, and she flopped backward. “You best strip me of my clothes. I believe my fingers have gone numb.”

“How much wine did you drink?”

“Two full flasks.”

He tugged at the strings of her gown, then pulled her upright and worked the dress up and over her head.

When he laid her back again and proceeded to yank off her undergarments, she tittered. “This could have been so much more enjoyable if you were not impaired.”

“At the moment, you are more impaired than I. Only because you are drunk will I forgive your insensitivity. It would be best if you speak no more.” He scooted a small table close to the bed and set a lantern atop it, then brought a pan from the other side of the room and put it beside the lamp. “Had you come to me promptly, this water would still be warm.”

He positioned a chair at the foot of the bed and sat. “You may remember how we did this before. Scoot down to the edge.”

She managed to wiggle close to him, yet had difficulty stifling her giggles.

He dunked a cloth into the pan, then wrung it out. She quivered when he pushed her legs apart and thoroughly washed her. “I fear you will feel the sting of my needle, but I will try to be quick.”

“Are you blushing, Denali?”

“I do not blush.” He let out a disgusted-sounding huff.

Although her lids drooped, she watched every move he made. He threaded a needle then held it up, examining it closely. “I chose the thinnest needle I could find. Now, close your eyes and breathe deeply.”

“Ugh . . .” She winced the instant the needle pierced her delicate skin.

Success without suffering will not bear the same glory.

Saying the words to herself helped to some degree. She would overcome this and move on to greater things.

Still, her knees shook uncontrollably.

Denali leaned back in his chair. “You must relax, or I will not be able to properly do this.” He eyed her closely and did not make another stitch, until she calmed her legs.

She grasped onto the blanket beneath her with both hands. “Go on. Get it over with.”

The needle pierced her a second time and the tug of the thread felt just as invasive, but she gritted her teeth and bore the pain.

He released an extremely sad sigh. “You could have spared yourself from this had you remained pure.”

“But that would have been boring.”

He yanked on the thread extra hard, and she slapped her hands on the bed. “Damn it, Denali!” Sweat poured from her brow. “How many more?”

“Had you chosen a man of lesser size, you would not require so many stitches.” He leaned to the side and looked into her face. “Did he please you?”

She gaped at him. Regardless that she trusted him with her life—as well as her secrets—for this, Denali did not deserve an answer.

He shrugged and continued.

She pushed herself to fill her mind with all the good that lay ahead—the glorious things she would accomplish—and not the sting, every time the needle pierced her.

Denali made several more stitches, then tied off the thread, and casually bit off the end as if his head were in a far less intimate place. “All done. It may be swollen for a brief while, but if you keep yourself clean, you should have no issues.”

“How long until it is healed?”

“Several weeks. Possibly a month.”

Her head throbbed, but not as much as her wicket. “Do you have something for the pain?”

“Is the wine not enough?”

“No.” She tried to sit up, but could not budge.

“I will help you to your bedchamber. You cannot stay here, or you might draw suspicion.” He rubbed his pointed beard. “I will tell your chambermaid you took a tumble and twisted your ankle, and you require snow to reduce the swelling. Of course, once she leaves you, you know very well where to position the snow. It will numb the area and help with your discomfort.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Could you not have used it prior to the procedure?”

“Perhaps.” He stood and put his furnishings back where they had been before. “If I had gathered it, it would have melted by the time you arrived.”

Even in her drunken state, she sensed his pained jealousy. In most instances, she gave no thought to what someone else felt about her actions. All that mattered was her own pleasure. Yet, she cared deeply for Denali. More so than anyone else.

“Denali?” She reached out to him.

His hardened demeanor softened, and he took her hand and sat beside her on the bed. “Yes?”

“Never forget, it is you I love.” She carefully turned onto her side and rested her head on his lap. “No one understands me as you do. I can be myself with you, and you cast no judgment.”

“Only because . . . I love you as well.” He choked out the words, while running his hand over her hair. “The wine has affected you. We must speak again when your mind is clear, so we may discuss the masquerade and what will transpire.”

He cleared his throat and stopped the movement of his hand. “Darius brought me more than enough tannin root. I only pray you can trust he will not betray you. Now that I have stitched you, you cannot use your body to control him.”

She rolled onto her back and gazed up into Denali’s face. “I am sober enough to state without hesitation, he would not dare cross me.”

Denali caressed her cheek, then bent low and kissed her lips. “My queen.”

She smiled and returned a more sensual kiss. The words danced into her ears, like the most glorious melody.

Eventually, she would indeed reign supreme.