Page 53 of Knight from the Ashes (Crown and Crest 1)

I wake slowly,feeling like I’ve been drugged.

I’m cradled against something warm and unyielding. It smells like leather, rugged man, and bliss.

“Lady Clover,” a voice says from above me, all husky and concerned. “Wake up, Clover.”

I blink open my eyes and find Henrik’s face inches from mine. Tenderly, he brushes my hair out of my face.

“I’ve got to stop having these dreams,” I murmur.

“She’s awake,” Dream Henrik says, sitting back.

We’re in a green city, surrounded by flowers and a magic tree. Everything is just hazy enough I know I’m asleep.

“Come back,” I pout, grasping hold of the back of his neck and pulling his face close to mine. “This one is going to end better than the last.”

“What’s she doing?” Henrik asks, sounding startled as I twine my fingers through his deliciously thick hair.

Confused, I ask, “Who are you talking to?”

“It’s common with head injuries,” someone answers. “My magic healed her, but she’ll be a bit disoriented for a few minutes. She’s all right.”

Startled to hear another voice, I release Henrik and crane my neck around. Blinking from Henrik’s arms, I try to focus on the elf behind me.

“What are you doing in my dream?” I ask Pranmore, clearing my voice when it’s a little scratchy.

“You fell from the tree,” Henrik says, carefully placing me on the stone ground next to him and helping me sit up. “You hit your head hard, but Pranmore saved you.”

I blink at him slowly. “I fell?”

The soldier nods, frowning.

Still fuzzy, I press my finger to his warm lips. “Yousavedme.”

His eyes widen with shock. He swallows hard, and then he says, “Pranmore…saved you.”

I laugh a little, marveling at the strange dream. Running my finger along his lower lip, I say, “I like Dream Henrik. He’s amusing.”

He makes an odd noise as I lean in to kiss him. I’m only inches away when my eyes fall on the massive, dead beast not fifteen feet away.

Startled, I go completely still.

I fell from the tree… Pranmore saved me.

Everything falls into place, and it’s like a bucket of water is dumped over my head.

Slowly, I pull my eyes back to Henrik. My finger is still on his lips, and he’s looking at me as though I’ve grown an extra head.

“I’m…awake?” I squeak.

Moving carefully as if he’s not sure I’m completely stable, Henrik removes my hand. “Yes.”

Gasping, I crawl back on the cobblestones.

“LADY CLOVER!” Bartholomew yells from somewhere nearby. “What happened?”

This would be another fantastic time to faint—unfortunately, I’m a field Clover, not a wilting Rose.

The young duke runs forward, dropping his crossbow so he can reach us quickly. But when he’s near, he comes to an abrupt stop, and his boots skid on the cobblestones.

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