“Analleia!”
Someone was shaking me, a voice right beside me.I jerked, gasping for breath, sweat coating my skin, my limbs shaking uncontrollably.The world around me was dimly lit.No sign of a horse, no sounds of battle.No smoke.No fire.
Hands framed my face, brought my gaze up to meet a pair of concerned green eyes.
“She’s dead,” I choked out.“Where is she?She’s dead.I left her there.”
“Analleia, take a deep breath.You need to calm down.”The voice didn’t fit.It didn’t belong in my castle.
Tears streamed down my face.“I have to get back to her!”
I shoved against the arms, but they pinned me down, holding me fast.“It’s not real, Analleia, whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real.Look around you.No one else is here.It’s just you and me.You’re safe.It’s not real.Take a deep breath.”
“Take a deep breath,” I repeated, letting the air flow in and out of my lungs.“It’s not real.”
I looked around.I was in a tunnel.Wewere in a tunnel.I saw the grate over the fireplace, holding us prisoner.A shuddering breath escaped me as I sobbed, and I clutched at his shirt.Confused.Why couldn’t I get myself under control?This was the same nightmare that had haunted my dreams every night for years, only this had been solid memory.Everything I had touched and seen was so vivid.
“It’s not real.”I gripped Valeris’s arm, grasping for anything real and tangible to hold me to this world.“Is it over?”
“It’s over.”
My body ached like I had been running for miles, my mind and limbs so, so tired.Reality crashed in, and I pushed away from Valeris, all too aware of who I was holding on to.The son of the man I was plotting to murder.The prince I had nearly kissed moments ago.What was wrong with me?
Valeris didn’t question my retreat but watched my movements with concern.
“How often?”he asked.
I swiped the wetness from my cheeks, embarrassed, hands still shaking.“How often what?”
“How often do you have these?”
I let out a humorless laugh.“I don’t even know whattheseare.”
“I’ve seen it before, but never that bad.How often?”
My throat burned, wanting to have someone to confide in, yet wanting to keep it to myself.“It started a few months after—after what happened to my family.It took me years to get it under control, but then a few months ago something—someone—triggered it.I’ve had no control over when they happen since.”
Like now.
What had triggered such an episode?
“Don’t pretend like you care, Valeris,” I said.“It’s beneath you.”
We’d grown too friendly, and I needed to reestablish the divide between us.
“Just because I act like a cocky jerk ninety percent of the time doesn’t mean I’m not a different person for the other ten.We all have a past, horrible things that were done to us.It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
I lifted an eyebrow.“You’re a prince.How horrible could your life have been?”
A mask came over his features, steeling them, and he leaned against the opposite wall.“You would be surprised.”
I let out a laugh.“Oh, really?Only one mattress to sleep on instead of two?”
He clenched his jaw, my comment lighting a fire of fury in his eyes.“Do you know why I like to go down to the city in a mask when no one can see me?I like to watch the people in the village square, watch how the parents interact with their children, shower them with attention.It amazes me.It’s like magic, something so unfamiliar that I will never be able to touch.I’ve watched the husbands interact with their wives.The devotion.The care.The love.
“The first time someone told me a family was supposed to work as a unit that loved one another, I laughed in their face.Our royal family is a unit, but in terms only.We keep a good face for the sake of the kingdom, act strong, but I don’t ever recall sharing a laugh or a loving moment with either my siblings or my parents.I think the only time my parents were ever that close to one another was when they decided it was necessary to produce another child.Not out of love or desire.My father has a veryparticulartaste in his women.Then again, heaven forbid anyone touch or harm the queen because on an off day it could send my father into a jealous rage strong enough to start a war.But I don’t ever recall them looking at each other as more than a piece for political gain.The onlyloveI ever experienced in the traditional sense came from my uncle.
“So yes.”He drove his point home.“I may have had every pleasure this kingdom and palace had to offer at my disposal, but that doesn’t mean I partook of it.And I would have traded all of it for a straw loft to sleep in with a functional family that lived with love.”
