Page 142 of A Cursed Son

He chuckles. “The most ridiculous lie.”

“So funny. You forget I didn’t even know you could lie, husband.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I… find it puzzling.” He rubs his chin.

“Hilarious. Here I was, with my captor?—”

“Captor.” He frowns. “Do you still see me like that?”

I see him in so many different ways now. I focus on one fact. “I wasn’t given a choice in our marriage.” Then I add quickly, “But you’re nice.”

He rubs his hand on his face. “It was either me or Renel. He’s prettier, sure, but he’s cruel. I had no choice either.”

“I don’t think it would have been me.”

“We’ve gone over this. I wasn’t going to take the chance.”

“I think it’s going to be Tarlia. I’m worried about her.”

He stares at me and bites his lip. “At least she knows what she’s up against. I’m truly sorry you have to do that, sorry they force you…” He shuts his eyes. “I’m sorry, wife.”

And it’s not like Tarlia is willing to run away or anything. In fact, I think she wants this wedding, wants the opportunity to be in a position from where she might exert at least some power. Compared to none. She has such little choice, such little freedom. Not that I have much more than she does, and yet I feel I have more say with Marlak than I had at the tower. And in fact, there’s something I need to tell him.

“Our dreams, they’re not all bad.” He raises an eyebrow, and I continue, “When you were poisoned?—”

“Great.” He points a finger at me. “So it was you. I asked you, asked you directly, and you denied it.”

I huff and throw my hands in the air. He’s impossible. “Are you going to keep repeating it? You denied it, you denied it, you denied it. Yes, I did. I already explained why. Now leave it.”

He sighs. “It wasn’t something to be ashamed of. You saved my life. Why would you deny it?”

“Because you’d think I was in love with you!” Oh. I need to remain quiet when I’m annoyed. I’m not sure what I confessed. My heart is punching me now.

He looks away, then down, and fiddles with his rings. “Oh, how horrific. I understand why you were terrified.”

My heart is still all I hear. And I think he understood something different than what I said. “Our shared dreams saved your life. So they can be useful.”

“Astra, you said you didn’t want those dreams. We’ll get rid of them. If it’s not my time to die, I won’t die. I’ll find another way.”

“What about when I called you? When I was with Nelsin?” I’m not sure how to say it. “It might have been our connection.”

“I’ll find you, Astra. Wherever you are, I’ll find you. I saw your light tonight. Even from afar, I knew it was you. I ran—and found you. We don’t need the dreams.”

I don’t know how he can make such a romantic promise sound like he doesn’t care for me, but he manages it. Marlak and his contradictions. And if I keep trying to read between his words, how much of it is him, and how much of it is what I want to see?

I nod, unsure of what to say. If I keep arguing, he’ll think I’ll want to keep having those dreams, or that I’m creating them on purpose, like he always suspected. He might even think it’s some mischievous plan. Perhaps he’s expecting me to tell him I love the dreams, but it’s true that they also bother me. I don’t like the awkwardness around them, that feeling that we’re one couple when we dream and another when we’re awake. The disconnect bothers me.

But what if he’s right, and the dreams are an illusion confusing us? Confusing him? Do I need the dreams to feel what I felt tonight when kissing him? Perhaps there’s only one way to know—by stopping them.

“Do you think it will work?” I ask.

“I hope so.” He looks at me, then glances at the trees by the riverbank. “I’ll improvise a bed for you. I think you’ll be safe if I’m awake.”

I’m not sure what he means. “Safe?”

“From the dreams.” A current of wind brings some leaves to the back of the boat, and he points at it. “It’s not great, but at least you can rest until we get to our destination.”

It looks cozy enough for a nap. “What about you? Won’t you get tired?”

---