I reached to the bedside table beside me and pulled a tissue from the box there, the addition solely for Percy’s benefit, so her tears and snot did not ruin her pyjamas.
“Blow,” I instructed, holding the tissue to her nose.
She tried to push my hand away. I did not allow her to move me. “I can blow my own nose, Selene, I’m not a child,” she protested.
“Blow,” I repeated, my tone less forgiving.
She huffed but did as I requested. “Happy now?” she asked as I placed the used tissue on the nightstand. “That’s so gross,” she complained.
“You no longer sound like a badly played trumpet, so yes, I am happy,” I answered.
I saw her try to suppress her smile at my joke, and I began to comb my fingers through her hair, pushing back the strands stuck to her forehead and untangling the mess her twisting and turning had created.
“What happened in your dream?” I asked softly.
“The Academy guard—well they weren’t the Academy guard. I mean, they were, but they were Vouna guard,” she explained. The Vouna guard that attacked her and her friend were starring roles in her dreams.
“I understand,” I told her, encouraging her to continue.
“They killed us—killed Ana and Heidi—and I tried to run. I was on the boat again,” she explained.
The rowboat and River Vouna were recurring elements of her dreams too—my pet reliving the experience night after night.
“Only it wasn’t Remy on the riverbank, it was you,” she explained.
I resisted the urge to interrupt—that no Vouna guard, even a pureblood, had the strength to kill me—but I held my tongue for Percy to continue.
“Suddenly, the boat was sinking, and I couldn’t use my arm at all. I tried to swim, tried to kick with my legs—like we were taught as little kids when you need to stay afloat and tread water. But I couldn’t. I don’t know why. And he laughed, Rick did,” she paused, her voice shaking on the name.
“He laughed because he knew when I died, you would too,” Percy finished.
Rick of House Vouna—the Vouna guard who likely killed one Remy of clan Arbor. He had disappeared—either keeping low in the hopes that one day I would stop searching for him, or, worryingly he may have joined one of the growing northern factions of rebels.
The various rebel groups had been causing minor chaos for the northern Houses—something which my aunt’s letters did not cease to complain about. But now was not the time to become distracted with the work of the kingdom and my new House and titles.
“It sounds to me like recent events have reminded you of the summer, bringing fears—new and old—to the surface,” I replied after a moment of thought to encourage her to speak more.
I had written to General Creel when Percy’s nightmares had begun. They reminded me of a lesson he once gave on the psychological impact of war. He had agreed that Percy was showing some symptoms that soldiers and others could experience after traumatic events. He advised talking with Percy when and if she was ready about her dreams and the events of the summer.
He informed me that the simple act of talking either with a trusted individual or with others who had experienced similar trauma could provide significant relief and improvement. He had also mentioned that Borealis had a program for our guards experiencing such symptoms and extended an invitation for Percy to attend upon our return to Borealis.
Yet with the inter-coven magic accusations cast against Percy, I wondered when we would be able to return to Borealis. My House did not feel safe. Sanguis Academy was entirely unsafe, despite the reassurances offered after the Summer Ball. Nowhere felt safe anymore.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” she mumbled against me. “I feel so much guilt,” she whispered, like a dark confession.
“Guilt?” I questioned. It was a new emotion expressed by Percy. What could she possibly feel guilty about?
She was silent for a moment before replying.
“So many people have died because of me,” she explained. “Evie, Desdemona, Remy, the driver of the van we escaped in, Remy, the guard from today, even Valen and Clara.” She listed the names easily, as if they were always at the forefront of her mind.
It did not escape me that Remy’s name had been repeated twice.
“You have killed no one. Evie died at my hand as a result of her actions. Valen was executed on my orders as a result of his actions. Desdemona and Remy were murdered the by Vouna guard—an act likely to have taken place regardless of whether you had ever crossed paths with Remy.
Remy killed the driver; he had no choice while protecting you both. Collateral damage is sometimes unavoidable.
The Academy guard was executed on my order as a result of his actions. And as for Clara, while I pray she is dead, a body was not recovered.
