“And he’s a sinner.”
Her jaw clenched. “As am I.” Everyone was, even Shepherds and Oracles.
Only the Lord on High was without fault.
“But he’s the worst sort of sinner—an unfaithful one.”
Her throat tightened. She had no retort for that.
Aldricwasunfaithful, in more than one sense of the word. He had turned his back on the Lord, just as he had turned his back on her.
But had he truly?
The rational part of her mind pointed out that Aldric had known this other woman long before he had ever met her. Perhaps he even lovedher. And how could she possibly fault him for that? Perhaps he had good reasons for having never married her.
Presenting that argument to the strangely wounded places of her heart soothed that ache just a little. Rallying, she plodded off further across the shifting sands, back the way she had come.
But then she stopped mid-stride. A horrifying thought dawned.
What if hewasalready married to this other woman? What if she was his secret wife? But that would make their own marriage null…
The voice chuckled in the midst of her swiftly spiraling thoughts. “He’s with her right now, you know. The other woman.”
“Be quiet!” she screamed. She didn’t want to think about it. What business of it was hers? Instead, she focused all her attention on this strange voice and demanded, “Who are you to speak to me this way?”
But the voice didn’t answer. It merely taunted her further. “Poor Sera. Lonely Sera. No one ever liked her. Not even her own father. No one ever wanted to marry her. Not even common-born Tiberius.”
She lifted her hands to her face, pressing her fingers against her temples, squeezing hard, as if she could force the voice straight from her thoughts. “Stop it.”
But it didn’t work. The voice was still there.
Laughing.
Laughing ather.
“Not even that filthyCrow—”
Cold water splashed her face, ripping her from sleep. She gasped, choking. The water was in her nose. Streaming down her neck. Soaking into her nightgown.
Disoriented, confused, she shoved herself into a sitting position and met Olivia’s worried face in the darkness of her room. Her friend clasped the bowl meant to hold water for washing their hands and faces before bed.
It was empty.
Before she could ask what in the world Olivia thought she was doing, the door to her bedchamber exploded inward. A dozen Queensguard poured in, their drawn blades flashing in the moonlight.
Seraphina tugged her now damp sheets up to her throat, hiding her body from view so the guards wouldn’t see her in her nightgown. “What is happening?” she demanded, looking between the lot of them.
Olivia huffed out a sigh and set aside the wash bowl. “It’s all right! She was just having a nightmare.”
One of her guardsmen—Radcliffe—stepped forward, still frowning despite Olivia’s reassurances. “Is that true, Your Majesty? Is all well?”
“Yes,” she answered without thinking, though she hadn’t the faintest idea if all truly was well. What had happened? What time was it? She flashed a look toward her balconydoors; all she saw was darkness and stars. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine. It was just…a bad dream.”
After a few more minutes of reassuring her Queensguard that she was fine, the men finally left. Leaving her alone. With Olivia.
She tossed back her blankets and leveled a bewildered look at her best friend. Confusion and irritation warred for supremacy within her heart as she rose to her feet and peeled the wet nightgown from her skin. Within the cold air, she shivered. The flames in the fireplace had died out hours ago, it looked like.
While she hurried to the linen chest at the end of her bed to find a fresh nightgown, she softly demanded, “Now do you mind telling me why you dumped out our wash bowl over my head?”
