“I’m fine—just a nightmare.”
“Another one?” He sighed. “You know, it might help if you didn’t sleep in that thing.” He gestured toward the robe. “Sleeping in a dead man’s clothes… it’s creepy—sort of sick, really. Don’t forget he was a wizard. That thing could be—well, I’ll just say it—it is enchanted. I’m sure it is responsible. Do you want to talk about your dream?”
“I don’t remember much. Like all the others, I just… I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. There’s this sense of urgency that’s overwhelming. I feel this need to find something—that if I don’t, I’ll die. I always wake up terrified, like I am walking off a cliff and don’t see it.”
“Can I get you something?” he asked. “Water? Tea? Soup?”
“Soup? Where will you get soup in the middle of the night?”
He shrugged. “I just thought I’d ask. You don’t have to beat me up for it. I hear you scream, I jump out of bed and rush to your door, I offer to play servant for you, and this is the thanks I get?”
“I’m sorry.” She frowned playfully but meant what she said. Having him there did chase the shadows away and took her mind off the wardrobe. She patted her bed. “Sit down.”
Alric hesitated, then set the candle on her nightstand and took a seat beside her. “What happened to the sheets and quilt? Looks like you were wrestling.”
“Maybe I was. I can’t remember.”
“You look terrible,” he said.
“Thanks.”
He sighed.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But you’re still my little brother and this new protective side of yours is hard to get used to. Remember when I fell off Tamarisk and broke my ankle? It hurt so bad that I couldn’t see straight. When I asked you to get help, you just stood there laughing and pointing.”
“I was twelve.”
“You were a brat.”
He frowned at her.
“But you’re not anymore.” She took his hand and cupped it in both of hers. “Thank you for checking on me. You even wore your sword.”
Alric looked down. “I didn’t know what beast or scoundrel might be attacking the princess. I had to come prepared to do battle.”
“Can you even draw that thing?”
He frowned at her again. “Oh, quit it, will you? They say I fought masterfully in the Battle of Medford.”
“Masterfully?”
He struggled to stop himself from smiling. “Yes, some might even say heroically. In fact, I believe some did say heroically.”
“You’ve watched that silly play too many times.”
“It’s good theater, and I like to support the arts.”
“The arts.” She rolled her eyes. “You just like it because it makes all the girls swoon and you love all the attention.”
“Well…” He shrugged guiltily.
“Don’t deny it! I’ve seen you with a crowd of them circling like vultures and you grinning and strutting around like the prize bull at the fair. Do you make a list? Does Julian send them to your chambers by hair color, height, or merely in alphabetical order?”
“It’s not like that.”
“You know, you do have to get married, and the sooner, the better. You have a lineage to protect. Kings who don’t produce heirs cause civil wars.”
“You sound like Father. Maribor forbid I should have any enjoyment in my life. I have to be king—don’t make me have to be a husband and father too. You might as well just lock me up and get it over with. Besides, there’s plenty of time. I’m still young. You make it sound like I am teetering on the edge of my grave. And what about you? You’re pushing old-maid status now. Shouldn’t we be searching for suitable nobles? Do you remember when you thought I arranged a marriage for you with Prince Rudolf, and—Arista? Are you all right?”
She turned away, wiping the moisture from her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry.” She felt his hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she replied, and coughed to clear her throat.
“You know I would never—”
“I know. It’s all right, really.” She sniffled and wiped her nose. They sat in silence for a few minutes; then Arista said, “I would have married Hilfred, you know. I don’t care what you or the council would have said.”
A look of surprise came over him. “Since when have you ever cared… Hilfred, huh?” He smirked and shook his head.
She glared back.
“It’s not what you think,” he said.
“What is it, then?” she asked with an accusing tone, thinking that the boy who had laughed at her falling from her horse had reappeared.
“No slight to Hilfred. I liked him. He was a good man and loved you very much.”