A Dove's Tale

Chapter 65

Midnight found me scrambling out of bed, wet with sweat and gasping for breath. Mother was still asleep. I knew I must have been thrashing about before I finally woke up, but she was just lying there, unmoving. The remnants of fear leftover from the nightmare seized my heart, and I hurried back to her side, feeling for a pulse, watching her chest rise and fall. She was alive. Just too sick and fatigued from a simple conversation to notice me physically fighting an imaginary Jack. I blew out a heavy sigh, tucked the blankets about her, and slipped outside.

The cool night air felt soothing on my flushed face. I leaned back against the door, closing my eyes and gulping it in. The nightmares were getting worse. They usually flared up after a traumatic event and then faded into occasional disturbances, but I usually had Mother to help me through them, too, waking me up before they reached the point they had tonight, holding me and telling me it was over. She hadn’t done that in over a month.

There was no way I could get back to sleep now. Not until I calmed down.

I opened my eyes and pushed off from the door, leaving the dusty road for the grass pleasantly cool against my bare feet. Downhill was the river, starlight glimmering off the black surface, reminiscent of the pond last night, except for the ripples of moving water here.

And the distinct lack of roses and Prince Chevalier.

I sat a few feet from the edge, hugging my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knees. It all seemed so simple here. I wanted simple. I wanted Mother to be well, the nightmares to be gone, and Prince Chevalier’s arms around me. In that order. But I’d settle for just the first, even if it meant I had nightmares all night, every night, and I never saw Prince Chevalier again.

That wasn’t how life worked, though. Not for me.

The sweat was drying, bringing goosebumps to my skin and making me shiver. I tucked my face into my skirt. It wouldn’t be long before I had to go back inside to try to sleep. I needed sleep. It was tugging at the edges of my mind, threatening to pull me into its grasp even now, out here in the dark with the light evening breeze ruffling my hair and the hem of my nightgown. If I didn’t get some sleep, I wouldn’t be functional at work tomorrow. Prince Chevalier would probably take one look at me and lock me in his room until five o’clock.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“What are you doing out here?”

The familiar voice sounded weary and irritated, as if my presence wasn’t entirely unexpected but was still cause for disappointment. I looked up to see Prince Licht astride his brown horse, Marron, frowning at me from across the river. His arrival didn’t surprise me. I was too tired to be surprised.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He directed Marron to a spot downstream where the river narrowed enough for them to jump it. I watched as the horse’s muscles bunched and relaxed under his shining, rich brown coat with every movement, one with Prince Licht as he found the position he wanted and urged the animal forward. It was nothing like watching the horses I usually saw hooked to carriages or wagons, sometimes groomed to perfection, often covered in dust. Those were beasts of burden. This was beauty and power personified.

The pair cleared the river easily, and Prince Licht dismounted, patting Marron’s neck before dropping the reins to walk toward me.

“You’re not worried he’ll wander off?” I asked as Prince Licht sat cross-legged beside me on the grass.

“I’m more worried about you,” he said bluntly. “Do you even realize how dangerous it is for you to be out here alone at night?”

I dropped his gaze, feeling like a naughty child being scolded. He was right. I eventually realized that every time I came out here, after the fear lost its hold and I finally regained the ability to think clearly. There were times I’d even imagined someone watching me from the forest across the river. It would be easy for someone to snatch me up and steal me away.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

He sighed, and there was a rustling of fabric while I focused on a spot on my knee.

“At least put some clothes on before you go outside,” he muttered, draping his jacket over my shoulders. “You’re shivering.”

“Thanks.” I hugged his jacket around me, inhaling his distinctive smell. It reminded me of a warm summer day, with hints of freshly cut grass and the soft mustiness of a well-kept stable. “Did you come here just to check on me?” I asked, looking over at him.

“I’m on patrol,” he replied firmly, as if that would explain his riding past my house in the middle of the night. Guards didn’t patrol here, and I wasn’t tired enough to believe that excuse. But I was tired enough to let it go without remark.

He leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knees and watching the blades of grass bend under his other hand, skimming flat-palmed over them. “This is a nice spot. Do you come out here often?”

“Now, I do,” I said, looking back at the black, shimmering surface of the water. “I never used to. When Jack was still around, it wasn’t safe to be out at night.” I sighed and hugged Prince Licht’s jacket tighter around me. “And I know it’s still not safe, but sometimes, I just…need this.”

There was silence for a few minutes, save for the gentle bubbling of the water and the quiet munching of Marron grazing nearby.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” Prince Licht finally asked.

I blew out my breath. “Nightmares.”

He shifted beside me, and I turned to look at him. His dark crimson eyes seemed even darker than usual, almost black, as he glared at the grass in front of him.

“Do you have nightmares, too?” I asked softly.

He nodded. “So does Nokto. They’re worse around our birthday.”

I remembered Theresa saying there was a rumor about something bad happening on the twins’ birthday when they were children, but Prince Licht didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it. The few words he said came through tight lips, and he was visibly tense. I faced forward again, this time focusing on the grass across the river. If he couldn’t talk about his, maybe talking about mine would help. Maybe it would help me, too. Not telling anybody wasn’t helping.

“I’ve had them since I was little,” I said quietly. “Sometimes, they’re bad enough that I talk in my sleep and act them out. Mother used to wake me up before they got that far. I guess they’re probably worse now because she can’t help me. She doesn’t even wake up anymore.”

“And that’s why you come out here.”

I nodded. “I know it’s dangerous, but I can’t even think about that at first. Not until I calm down.”

“You seem calm now.”

I smiled ruefully and looked over at him. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“You need to sleep,” he replied evenly, his dark eyes meeting mine.

“So do you.” I shrugged off his jacket and handed it back to him. “Thanks for letting me wear that, and for checking on me. I guess I’ll go back to bed now.”

He stood up when I did, pulling his jacket on and following me up the hill.

“You don’t have to walk with me. I know the way,” I said teasingly.

“With your luck, someone is waiting at the door to grab you,” he muttered.

“Oh, I don’t know. I would have thought someone like Prince Gilbert would find me alone at night, not you, so maybe my luck is changing.”

He smiled. I’d never seen him smile before. It was a pure, simple smile, like that of an innocent, carefree child, and it made my smile wider.

“You should do that more often,” I said.

“Do what?”

“Smile.”

His eyes widened, and he averted his gaze, the smile vanishing in an instant. I couldn’t be sure in the starlight, but I thought he might be blushing. We reached my house, and, on an impulse, I stood up on tiptoe and placed a quick peck on his cheek.

“Thanks for always looking out for me, Prince Licht.”

Now he was definitely blushing.

“You’re weird,” he said under his breath, still avoiding my eyes.

“Or just tired,” I replied, turning to the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Ivetta.”

I crawled into bed beside Mother, listening to her slow, steady breathing. In the distance, I could just make out the soft thud of hooves as Marron leaped the river again. That was nice of Prince Licht. And probably orchestrated by Prince Chevalier. I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh. There was no one waiting to grab me at my door, but I knew my nightmares were still there, waiting for me as soon as I drifted into sleep. I hoped they’d at least be a little less severe the rest of the night.

They were, but I was still tired when I woke up. Restful sleep had evaded me for a long time now. I dragged myself out of bed, got dressed, and started my morning routine. Mother didn’t wake up in the morning without my encouragement, so her immobile figure didn’t bother me the way it used to. Not until I tried to wake her, and she didn’t move. I shook her lightly, calling out a cheerful morning greeting. Still nothing. Panic threatened to wrap itself around my heart. She had a pulse; she was breathing; even her color was better than it had been for a while. Why wouldn’t she wake up?

The carriage was coming for me soon, and then I wouldn’t be back until my lunch break…

Should I even go to work today?

I sat on the edge of the bed, biting my lip and tightening my hand around my wrist. She couldn’t take her medicine if she didn’t wake up, which meant she’d be in a lot of pain later. If she even woke up. What if she didn’t? What if this was it? Today?

Or what if I had woken her up last night with my tossing and turning, and she was just more fatigued than usual?

I hadn’t decided by the time the sound of hooves and wheels on packed dirt came to my door. My knuckles were white from gripping my wrist so tightly, and my lip had to have a permanent dent in it from my teeth. I didn’t move until there was a knock at the door.

“Miss Ivetta?”

Charlie. While indecision gripped me, he was waiting outside. I stood up and answered the door.

“Sorry. I’ll just be a few more minutes,” I said, forcing a reassuring smile to my face as I shut the door behind me. He frowned, his eyebrows pulling so closely together that they merged into one, but he nodded and climbed back into the coach box.

“Ivy!”

The high-pitched squeal preceded Rachel’s death-grip on my legs. I patted her head, unable to catch her usually contagious joy this morning.

“Good morning, Rachel. Is Jason around?”

“Right here,” he said, walking over from his house to pull Rachel off of me. “She has to go to work,” he reminded her.

“It’s fine. Actually, I was about to come over to see you,” I replied.

His dark chocolate eyes widened momentarily, and he averted them quickly, a blush creeping into his cheeks. It didn’t strike me as cute the way it normally did.

“Could you run and get the doctor to look at Mother?”

His eyes came back to mine, and he pursed his lips into a frown. “Yeah, I can do that. What’s going on?”

“Um…she won’t wake up. She’s alive,” I hastened to add, “but…I’d just like the doctor to examine her. And if he thinks I should come home before lunchtime, let me know? I’ll pay you back for a carriage if you need it.”

Jason nodded. “Okay. C’mon, Rachel. Mom’ll have to watch you for a bit.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and opened the carriage door, but a frosty chill hit my face and made me freeze halfway in the doorway. Prince Gilbert was there, a smile on his lips, his blood-red eye trained on me. At my back was the warmth and brightness of a spring morning, and in front of me was the dark and cold of a winter's night.

What was he doing here? Prince Chevalier said he’d handle him, so why was he here, in the carriage Prince Chevalier sent for me?

“You don’t want to be late, little dove.”

He patted the seat next to him. I stared at him, my heart racing with fear. I should just get down from the carriage and go back inside. Mother needed me, anyway. I didn’t have to deal with this.

Except he wouldn’t let me do that, would he?

I swallowed hard. Prince Chevalier wasn’t here, and I had to do what Prince Gilbert wanted. I pulled myself up into the carriage, shut the door behind me, and sat in the spot he indicated, not waiting for his tug on my ponytail to sit back against his arm. He chuckled and rested his hand on the outside of my thigh.

“Very good. I would have hated to make a scene,” he said, brushing my hair back behind my ear. “Trouble with your mother, I hear?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, glaring up at him.

“I came to see you, of course,” he said pleasantly. “My dear cousin Yves is taking me on a tour of Rhodolite today, which means this is the only time I have with you. Unless the wolf isn’t prowling tonight.”

The breath caught in my throat.

“You…you were here last night?” I asked in a small voice.

He nodded and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “You weren’t crying this time.”

I couldn’t breathe. He pulled back, his eye watching me like a hungry beast waiting for its prey to bolt, and his fingers brushed across my cheek as though wiping imaginary tears away.

“The night after Clavis’ party. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.” He chuckled again. “But I wasn’t expecting you to just be sitting outside like that. It’s a wonder nobody’s eaten you up yet.”

“You’ve…been watching me,” I whispered.

“Not me personally. I have responsibilities that make birdwatching impractical. But the key to a successful hunt is knowing your prey, isn’t it?”

The walls were closing in. He had me trapped here in the carriage, and everywhere else, too. There was no winning with him.

“Am I in your nightmares, little dove?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

I shook my head.

“Hm. I’ll have to rectify that later. For now, let me give you a word of advice.” He leaned in again to speak directly into my ear. “It may be best for Charlie if Chevalier doesn’t hear about this.”

I closed my eyes, trying to shut him out so I could think.

“What happened to our deal?”

He laughed and kissed my ear. “The deal where you belong to me and I don’t threaten those around you? There is some dispute as to your ownership and what you can and can’t offer me. Chevalier seems to think you’re his. He was very emphatic about that point last night.” His lips pressed into my neck, and he dropped his voice lower to add, “But he doesn’t know you were mine long before he met you.”

He pulled back, and I let out a shaky breath as the carriage jostled to a stop.

“Go on, little dove. We’ll talk later."