Dreams Lie Beneath

by Rebecca Ross

One does not realize how powerful a dream is, in the sleeping world as well as the waking one, until it has been stolen from them.

“You know, it’s not a bad thing to be fearful every now and then. The fear reminds you of limits, of what lines you should not cross. Of the doors you shouldn’t open.”

I wanted to be unremarkable upon appearance. I wanted to be underestimated, overlooked, on the verge of being forgotten. I wanted a trustworthy face that inspired friendship, a face that could draw out a secret. A face that one would never assume hid something vengeful beneath it.

“It will make you colder. But even the deepest of ice eventually gives way to fire, Clementine.”

perhaps love was not something easily forgotten, even when it had burned down to ashes.

“So Anna was all an act?” he asked. “In some ways,” I replied carefully. “But in others, no. I was and still am exactly who I was before. Even in the moments when I was with you as Anna . . . I was Clem.”

“And do you feel the same as you did at the beginning?” he asked. “Do you want to see me devastated? Disgraced? Do you want to hurt me, Clem?” How should I respond? I was suddenly terrified to be vulnerable in his presence, uncertain where such a path might guide us. “No, Phelan.

“We have never dreamt, you and me. All our lives, we have been void of dreams until now. And at last, we dream, and your first is tainted by a treacherous girl who you must despise.” “I would not trade such a dream,” he was swift to say. “Not for me, not for the world. Not even to break this curse. But for your sake in this strange game we find ourselves trapped within . . . I would.”

“I wanted it to be you,” he said, his voice deep, rough-hewn. “When I returned to the museum for that final interview . . . gods, how I wanted it to be you.” And he had gotten his desire, only not how he had envisioned it. I took the first step to him, and it broke the storm that had been building between us. He met me in the center of the room, and I had enough sense to flick my fingers and charm the door shut before we collided.

“No more lies, Clem,” Phelan whispered. “We have both held our secrets long enough. Tell me what is troubling you. Tell me how I can help you.” It was strange how those words of his struck deeper than his kiss.

“That night when you caught my reflection in the mirror,” I said. “When you said my name . . . the stone within me suffered a crack. And I don’t regret that it did, because I had forgotten how vital it is to be known for who you are, and not for who you pretend to be. I had forgotten how good it is to be seen, even with flaws and scars. I wanted you to see me.

And then there was me, caught between the two, full of hope and doubt and plans of my own.

I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but this one thing I seek, so that I may remain near you.” I must have stared at him for a long, excruciating moment, because he whispered my name. I shifted across the mattress, sitting on the edge of the bed before him, my feet touching the floor. I still was afraid to speak—even his name might break me—and I took his face in my hands. Phelan’s arms came around me. “Tell me what you want me to do,” he said. “Tell me to leave, and I will.” My fingers slid into his hair. “Stay,” I whispered.

“Her heart is weakening,” she said. When she drew her hand back, her fingers were drenched in my blood. “And the curse still stands. Perhaps . . .” She had no chance to finish her statement. Phelan rose with me in his arms. I wanted to ask him, What are you doing? But my voice . . . I couldn’t find it. Yet he seemed to know my thoughts, because he said, “I don’t want to do this without you.” I released a tremulous breath—all right, as you wish—and he walked us to the throne. He claimed the sovereignty with me in his arms. We sat together, as one, and the curse came undone.

sometimes things must break before they can be made whole again, so that they can be forged into something stronger.

You sat as one; you broke the curse as one.”

“You and Phelan are still bound by commitment and magic of your own making. You are partners.”

“The two of you are like iron, sharpening the other,” Mazarine said. “I sense that he could not do this without you, and you would not want to do it without him. Together you are stronger, a balance. You will both lead the duchy into a new era.”

I thought about the different paths we had each taken—vengeance and fear and anger and solitude and pain—and yet how all three of us had ended up here, in this strange moment of new beginnings.