“You got hurt last night because you couldn’t reach me and you couldn’t speak to me,” he said as realization seemed to dawn on him.
She nodded. Finally.
“Just because you can’t do magic without your voice doesn’t mean I trust you,” he said. “I don’t trust you at all. For all I know, this is just some sort of a giant manipulative scheme by an evil sorceress. But I will tie your hand to mine tonight since you cannot get away. If you try anything at all—even just an attempt to untie the knots—I will feel it immediately and wake up.”
She did not deign to respond to his monologue with a nod. His use of the words “evil” and “manipulative” made her feel small. She knew he was basing his insults off the lies he’d heard, but they still hurt.
Not wanting to be stuck to a tree, helpless without motion or voice, she nevertheless held out her hand and allowed him to tie a snug knot around her wrist.
He attached the rope to his wrist, leaving an arm’s length of room between them.
That night, she had trouble falling asleep, worried as she was that any motion of her hand would wake and anger him.
She could tell that he was awake, too. Though his hand remained motionless, his breathing was shallow and uneven, and he frequently repositioned his head.
Eventually, her mind gave in to her exhausted body and she drifted off.
She was awoken by a sharp tug from the rope on her hand, and small, strangled yells coming from the prince.
“No, no,” he said in his sleep. “You’re not listening to me. I said we shouldn’t do it. They attack from the sea.”
Aizel leaned up on her elbow and grasped the rope in her hand, pulling it toward herself.
“No!” he screamed. “I’m caught in the rigging, let me go. I can’t breathe!”
Aizel immediately stopped pulling the rope. She was further enforcing the nightmare of his drowning experience rather than waking him out of it.
Using her elbows, she dragged herself across the ground to get closer to him, wincing in pain as her foot dragged across the grass behind her.
Reaching out, she shook his shoulder. “Wake up, you’re only dreaming.” She shook him again.
He sat up before he was even fully awake, panting heavily. Reaching down toward his hand, he tore at the knotted rope.
Aizel reached forward, pulling at the loop to help him remove it after his first few attempts failed.
He tossed the rope out of reach as soon as he was free. He was breathing heavily and his face was once again covered in sweat.
Aizel sat up, scooting herself back to her blanket as he calmed himself.
Avoiding her gaze, he grabbed a large stick and poked the coals of the dying fire back to life.
Aizel leaned into the welcome heat, watching him carefully from the side of her vision. She made a loop of continuous circles in the air with her finger. “Do you have these nightmares every night?”
The motion finally forced him to look at her and he stared at her for a moment, as though he wasn’t comprehending.
Aizel dropped her hand. He didn’t deserve her sympathy.
He looked back at the fire for a few moments. “Is this a recurring problem?” he finally asked, vocalizing her question.
She looked back at him and nodded.
“More recently, yes.” He kept his eyes on the flames. “Sorry I woke you. I’m not very tired anymore. You can go back to sleep.”
Aizel shrugged. After she awoke to his scream, she wasn’t very tired anymore either.
Chapter 21
Erich wanted to put out the fire so he could be alone in the dark. The dream had conjured up all the horrible emotions he had felt when the ship sank. His body felt just as taut and on edge as he had been then.
