Dreams Lie Beneath

by Rebecca Ross

I thought of it written on a stray sheet of parchment, tucked away in his desk like a secret, and gritted my teeth.

I was suddenly very thankful my father took such precautions.

Hundsight is 20/2

“What?” Phelan’s voice was sharp. “Who?” “You know who I speak of.” “What happened in the nightmare? What did he do?”

Because I knew why Phelan had left. He was searching for my father and me.

“Pride always sets a snare.”

Again, the silence was thick enough to drown in. I glanced from Papa to my mother to Imonie. Why were they acting so strange?

“No, not a lover. A rival would be a better term. She despises me.”

I needed him to do it now, while I was in the room with him. I couldn’t afford to have him summon me when I was away.

Clever

He laughed. I realized I had never heard his laugh before. The sound was bewitching, even if it held a hint of scorn.

“Am I to expect this every new moon morning?” I asked as he poured me a cup. “Perhaps,” he teased. “Although the last thing I want is to reward your decadence of late morning sleep.”

Phelan obviously had not caught sight of my reflection, but it was a sobering reminder of my foolishness. How I had let his thoughtful gesture distract me.

The way I sometimes caught Phelan looking at me.

Silence frosted the table between us.

“I suppose that means I have no choice but to knit myself to you, to ensure I don’t break my own word.”

reminding him of me every time he looked at it.

My life had changed seasons; I could never go back to how things had been.

And when I met Phelan’s dark gaze, my nostalgia melted away, leaving me standing in a world I had made.

A new spell was rising within me like a song.

I turned to behold Phelan, lying on the foyer floor. He was watching me, his face blanched and furrowed with pain. His hand was pressed over his abdomen, where his blood was pooling.

Oh yeah quite jarring to pick back up where i left off

Phelan stared at me. “I don’t trust you.” “What?” His words caught me by surprise. “Come here, Anna.”

but in this moment . . . I need you.”

“Anna Neven. You can spell both of your names forward as you can backward.”

“My mother was fond of palindrome names.”

“It’s not your real name, is it?” he said.

“No, but it gives me moments of doubt, Anna. And I . . . I don’t want to doubt who you are.”

the only thing I could think of, the only thing that felt natural. I traced the hard cut lines of his stomach, the contours of his bare skin. I traced his scar.

The ONLY thing babe??

I leaned down closer to him, so that our mouths were a breath apart. My braid had come partly unwound in the battle, and my hair fell around us.

:o

not with the glaring reflection of my secret,

Such good fwist on words

“Anna Bailey is my true name,”

More lies :(

“Don’t leave, Anna,” he whispered. “Stay here with me.”

We had crossed paths in the art shop last month. The countess. Phelan’s mother.

AWKWARD

I stood on the threshold holding his tea tray, and for a moment, he and I stared at each other. Words seemed to be lost between us.

YEARNING

A sickly sweetness, mingling with that odd scent of molded parchment. And I knew he was here for me, not the tax.

I dont trust this guy. Have something to do wofth the knight??

“Would you want to be a duchess?”

Dude

The library seemed to soften in relief that the duke was gone,

They were figments of the past. And the air was dusted with nostalgia, with the memory of fading things.

“This house is far too quiet at night without you,” I said.

Thatll do it

“Then let me be the first to confess. I missed you.” “I have no doubt.” “I should have taken you with me.”

“And what can I do about that?” “Distract me.”

But he laughed, and the sound was golden, incandescent. I longed to hear it again, as soon as it melted away.

but a smile lingered on his mouth. And I hated how I suddenly wanted to taste it.

I shivered, but I refused to dwell on how his words made me feel, like I was sugar melting in tea.

And when his thumb traced my lips, as if he had imagined kissing them . . . a gasp escaped me.

I let my shield slide from my tingling arm and stood over the knight, my foot on his chest. He was dazed. Frozen on the cobblestones. I knelt and removed his helm. The streetlight spilled over his face. A face I knew alarmingly well. It was my father.

GASP

I gaped at my father. He acted as if nothing had happened the night before. As if he had not tried to strangle me.

I feel like the knight is ftaking on a persona? Its not actually him

I hadn’t heard him move. I hadn’t sensed his presence, not until it was too late. Phelan stood behind me. I met his stare in the mirror, and his shock sent a pang through me.

GASP

And then he smiled, but it was scathing. Sharp and unfamiliar. The sight of it sent a thrill through me.

I turned away from him, frustrated that he wouldn’t spar with me, and he caught me around the waist. I tripped over my own vine, snaking across the floor, and down we went. We tangled, our limbs entwining and our hands catching and our breaths mingling.

“I should have known it was you,” he whispered, his mouth dangerously close to mine.

“Yes, Miss Neven. He wrote and said he would be away for a few weeks.” “Oh?” A few weeks? I paled at the thought, wondering where he had gone.

DAMN