"Ivetta. Hey, Ivetta. Wake up."
Luke's voice broke through the fog of sleep for the third time that evening. I lifted my face from my arm and sat up straight, covering my yawn with my hand. The textbook on the table was still open to the same page as the last time Luke woke me up.
"Sorry," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.
"Are ya getting enough sleep?" he asked. I felt the pressure of his leaf-green eyes on me, and I turned to him with a smile.
"Clavis and Nokto had me on my feet too long, I guess," I said lightly. "I just don't have any stamina yet."
That was a lie. I'd been out of bed for a week now, and although my stamina still wasn't where it used to be, being on my feet for an hour without rest wasn't enough to make me this tired. And the look on Luke's face said he didn't believe me.
"Ya sure that's all?"
"I'm sure," I said, meeting his eyes directly as I continued the lie. "Thanks for studying with me, but I'd better call it a night."
My chair scraped across the floor as I pushed it back and stood up. This little study nook in the library - a table and a few chairs hidden from the rest of the room by bookcases - had appeared after Chevalier found me fighting sleep while studying on a sofa here in the library one evening. It was harder to fall asleep sitting on a hard wooden chair, but not impossible. Especially since the nightmares were back.
"Want me to walk with ya?" Luke asked, another scrape signifying him pushing his chair back.
"No, thanks. I'm just going back to my room. See you in the morning."
"Get some sleep."
"I will," I said, flashing him another smile.
The two guards standing outside the library fell into step behind me when I left. They were a fixture in my life now, following me everywhere I went. Theresa knew most of them. The head of my guard detail was Julius, one of Leon's knights and, surprisingly, not one of Theresa's ex-lovers. He oversaw the dozen guards assigned to me, and, although all of them rotated out regularly, he was the one I saw most frequently. I couldn't remember if he was on duty tonight, and I didn't look over my shoulder to check. The nightmares were getting worse as the doctor tapered me off of my pain medicine. I just hoped I wasn't talking in my sleep loud enough for the guards to hear through my door.
"Just in time," Theresa said when I returned to my room. "I have a date."
"Where's the doctor?" I asked, taking my position behind the dressing screen for her to undo the complicated fastenings at the back of my dress. I couldn't manage them myself with my new wardrobe. Part of being a princess was, apparently, discomfort.
"He said you're not getting any medicine tonight, remember? When he was here last night?"
I gasped in relief when the corset sprang free. Theresa laughed and tossed it aside.
"It's not that bad," she chided me.
"You try wearing one," I retorted.
"Okay, okay. Let me get these pins out of your hair, and then I'll get out of your hair. You look tired."
"I was studying for a test tomorrow," I said, collapsing into the chair in front of my vanity while she undid my hair. My plain white chemise and drawers didn't hide the scars on my arms and legs the way my dress had. I dropped my gaze to the jar where Theresa was dropping the hair pins.
"With Chevalier?" she asked teasingly.
"No, not with Chevalier," I replied wearily. "He had to work late. Luke was my study partner."
"So, who's the better kisser?"
I looked up at her smirking reflection in the mirror. "What?"
"Between Chevalier and Luke. Who's the better kisser?" she asked again, her green eyes sparkling. "Oh, wait, you actually meant studying."
"Yes, I actually meant studying," I said, rolling my eyes. "Just go on your date. I can handle the rest from here."
"Wow, somebody's in a bad mood."
I shook my head. "I'm just tired, that's all. Have a good time, and tell me about it in the morning."
"You know I will. Goodnight, Ivetta."
"Goodnight, Theresa."
She left with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. My shoulders slumped as soon as she was gone. I looked back at my reflection and the irregular lines of white and pink scar tissue scattered across my arms. My face was clear. The torturer threatened to cut it up, too, but decided against it. I didn't remember the reason. I remembered the flat of the bloody dagger pressed against my cheek, the heat of his breath on my face as I faded in and out of consciousness.
He probably didn't do it because I passed out.
Theresa left my nightgown laid out across the bed. I picked it up and took it into the bathroom, fumbling through my bedtime routine as the weight of exhaustion pressed on the backs of my eyes. The nightmares hadn't woken me up yet, but they kept me from getting any restful sleep. Maybe Clavis could make me a sleeping potion if I didn't get any sleep tonight. I wouldn't be able to function at the coronation ceremony if this kept up.
Or I could tell Chevalier.
I think I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow, but it wasn't long before I woke up in a cold sweat. There was a hand over my mouth, I was sure of it. I struggled to break free, and then I was standing with my back against the wall, heart pounding out of control as I stared at the mess of tangled bedding hanging over the edge of the bed. There was no hand. It was just the blanket. The same bright floral blanket that was halfway on the floor, the same way it had been when my abductors dragged me out of bed. I turned away and went to the curtains, pushing them aside to turn the lock in the glass door, needing to get away, and my trembling hand froze as the image of the two guards lying in their own blood outside my door flashed through my mind. There weren't any guards on my balcony, I told myself. They were all down below in the gardens. There wouldn't be any sightless eyes or slashed throats or-
My stomach was churning. I ran into the bathroom and vomited in the toilet, gripping the cold porcelain with sweaty hands. There was a hand at the back of my neck, holding onto my collar as I vomited in the grass, ready to stuff the soiled gag back in my mouth as soon as I was done, so I couldn't scream. I stumbled back and cowered in the corner behind the tub, tucking my face into my knees as I hugged them to my chest. It wouldn't stop. Tears streamed down my face, my breath came in ragged gasps, but the nightmare wouldn't stop. The whispered voices saying the patrol was dead, the sound of horses' hooves pounding over the wooden bridge, the blow to the back of my head-
"Ivetta."
"Chevalier?" I whispered, looking up as his voice pierced through the chaos, hoping this wasn't another trick of my mind. But the figure kneeling in front of me in the darkness was real. The hand on the back of my head, stroking my hair, was real. I released my knees and threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his chest as sobs shook my shoulders. He pulled me onto his lap and held me close while I cried. That miserable night was just a memory. There were no attackers in the dark, no blood, no terror. There was only safety and warmth here in Chevalier's arms.
"Don't leave me," I begged him.
"I won't."
I cried until my face was numb and tingling. Soft whimpers escaped my lips as my breathing gradually evened out. My hands had fallen from his neck to clutch at his jacket, but now, I didn't even have the strength to do that, and they fell limp in my lap. I felt drained. Exhausted and drained.
"When were you going to tell me?" he asked, still stroking my hair. There was nothing accusatory in his tone, and I didn't take it that way. It was just a question.
"Tomorrow," I said honestly. "The nightmares only started a couple of days ago, but they've been getting worse every night."
"Tell me."
I didn't want to tell him. He'd asked before, as had Belle and Theresa, but I'd always changed the subject, evaded the topic, fabricated an excuse; anything not to talk about it. I was too tired to do any of that right now. He already knew what happened, anyway. It wouldn't shock him the way it would shock Belle and Theresa.
So, I told him.
I told him about waking up when I heard strange sounds, dismissing it as nothing, and trying to go back to sleep. I told him about being dragged out of bed, about fighting with everything I had, only to be pinned to the ground, gagged and bound, and then thrown over one man's shoulder. The blood in the doorway, the sightless guards with slashed throats, nearly choking on my vomit, being thrown to the ground and ungagged long enough for me to get it out before he picked me up again and carried me to the waiting horses, where I was slung over a horse like a sack of flour, watching the hooves striking the wooden bridge, squirming toward them until he knocked me out.
Waking up hanging by my wrists in a cold, dark dungeon.
I couldn't tell him the rest.
His steady, rhythmic stroking of my hair didn't falter, but I heard his heart speed up and felt his muscles tense around me as I finally let it out. Silence fell after my last choked word. I remembered how I looked the first time I saw myself in a mirror a few days after he rescued me, after I regained consciousness, an unrecognizable mass of bruises and bandages, and I wondered how I looked when he found me, when I was still hanging in that dungeon, covered in blood and barely conscious. Barely alive.
He stood up and carried me into the bedroom without a word, laying me in the bed and fixing the sheets and blanket. Then he removed his cloak, hung it on the dressing screen, and unfastened his jacket, shrugging out of it and draping it on the dressing screen next to his cloak.
"Chevalier?" I ventured hesitantly as he came back to the bed. He unbuckled his sword belt and propped his sword up against the wall opposite the side of the bed I used. The side where he was sitting down and removing his boots.
"You need sleep," he said, dropping his gloves on the end table and sliding under the sheets beside me.
"But - I can't ask you to do this."
"You're not asking," he replied, pulling me into his arms and kissing my forehead. "Go to sleep, little dove."
I closed my eyes and nuzzled into his chest, too tired to argue when this was clearly what I needed. "Thank you, Chevalier."
"I love you, Ivetta."
The last thing I remember was his kiss on top of my head.