Chapter 18
There was no fear as the darkness consumed Mina—only the peace that accompanied being pulled into a state of unconsciousness. But then, something changed.
The cries of an infant pierced the stillness. Mina tried to open her eyes, tried to speak, to move, but she could do nothing to go to the child. The distressed cries grew, paired with the screams of a woman, begging, pleading. The fierce bark of wolves weaved their way into the cacophony.
The sounds faded slowly, leaving silence in its wake. Even as the memory of those sounds slipped away, the fear and distress lingered in Mina. Emotions that she could not put into words as she lingered in this place between sleep and wake.
When she finally woke, unsure of whether hours or days or weeks had passed, she peeled her eyes open, finding herself lying on her side.
Daylight spilled in from behind her as she took in the familiar furniture of her chambers in the castle, her mind feeling as though she were wading through sand.
She frowned, trying to make sense of it all—what happened?
How had she gotten back here? But then she sensed the presence of someone in the room with her.
She stilled, the remnants of her fear mingling with confusion and fatigue.
She shut her eyes again, her heart racing as she held her breath, her mind returning to the screams and cries she’d heard in slumber.
She tried to push beyond that, back to her last waking memory, but a haze clung to her mind, blurring the edges.
The mattress dipped next to her and a cool cloth pressed to her forehead, her cheeks. Mina wondered if it was safe to reveal she was awake—this was likely Sofia tending to her, but something in her stomach tightened, fear of what might be revealed to her upon waking.
She opened her eyes, turning slowly to find the Count sitting next to her on the bed. His blue eyes were softer than she’d ever seen them, true care in his gaze. And then a memory floated back to her—those eyes in the darkness, fear flashing through them as he told her to . . . to what?
“You’re awake,” he said, a soft smile to his lips.
Stay hidden. His voice floated back like glimpses of a dream, her mind struggling to grasp onto the memory. But it hadn’t been a dream.
Mina dragged herself into a seated position, staring up at him.
“What happened?” she asked. Her voice was dry and raspy, and he reached over to the nightstand, bringing a glass of water for her to sip.
The water was cool going down her throat, and she suddenly felt as though she’d gone days in the desert without hydration, draining the cup dry.
As he set the glass on the nightstand, she took the opportunity to watch him, to take in his features in the light of day.
Was this the first she’d seen of her husband aside from in the moonlight or the firelight?
And then an image of the night prior appeared in her mind’s eye—them before the fire. Her cheeks heated.
His eyes found hers, and she was silent, the unanswered question still lingering between them.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She felt a pang of frustration at his question—as if she’d never spoken.
“I’m fine,” she said, though her head was still heavy, her mind still clouded.
“But you—what happened to you? You left me.” It wasn’t until she spoke the words that she saw the memory.
He’d locked her into a room—a chamber somewhere in the castle, but not her own.
She’d been so afraid, the feeling returning to her now even in the light of day.
His brows furrowed in mild confusion, his head tilting slightly. “I left you?”
She swallowed, pushing past her discomfort. How could he not know what she spoke of? She remembered his hand in hers as he pulled her down the shadowed corridors, the sound of something, someone, at the door far below. “Someone attacked the castle.”
She found him watching her, his expression one of concern.
“It sounds like you’ve had some vivid dreams, my wife.” He reached out, running his hand down the side of her face, his skin cool to the touch. The gesture should have been soothing, but alarm pulsed through her.
“It wasn’t a dream,” she said. “It was real. You were there. You told me to hide.”
The Count stared at her, his expression unreadable.
Did he truly not remember? Had he been injured somehow?
Yet as she tried to imagine it, she realized she couldn’t recall who would have injured him.
There was someone in the castle—a group of people.
But when she tried to dig deeper, she couldn’t recall anything beyond that.
“You don’t remember?” Her voice sounded weak, even to her own ears.
“Shhh,” he said, placing a hand to her cheek. “Don’t get yourself worked up.”
She frowned at him. “Are you saying it didn’t happen?”
“Wilhelmina, you’ve been in and out of fever for days.”
She stared at him, an icy chill running down her spine. That couldn’t be true—just last night they’d been in the study, there before the fire.
Hadn’t they?
“You were in and out of consciousness,” he went on. “You were talking in your sleep, saying all kinds of things.” His eyes were soft with pity as he looked at her. “It’s not uncommon to have vivid dreams in such a state. I imagine they must have felt very real.”
He was wrong.
He had to be wrong. This hadn’t been a dream—it was real.
And yet, as she tried to hold on to those moments, she felt as though she were trying to grasp onto smoke, the memories slipping through her fingertips.
Could it have been a dream? He seemed so sure, so confident in the words he spoke.
“But, how could that be?” she asked.
The Count took her hand in his, his thumb grazing the skin of her palm. “How did it end?” he asked softly. She looked up at him, and there must have been a question in her eyes, for he went on. “If you truly think this dream sequence was real, then tell me: how did it end?”
Mina opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. She tried to remember, tried to recall how she had gone from being locked in that dark room to being in her bed now, but nothing came to her.
“You said there were invaders of some kind?” he went on. “Where did they go? How did you escape them unharmed? How did you get back to your bed?”
Tears pricked behind her eyes, emotion thickening her throat as her mind refused to pull forth the memories. It had happened—she was so sure of it. She could feel it deep in her gut, the fear she had felt that night. And yet, she could not answer his questions.
“Don’t cry,” the Count said softly, swiping at a tear that escaped down her cheek. “I don’t wish to upset you.”
“No,” she said, her voice thick. “No, it’s alright. I just don’t understand why I can’t remember.” Shame filled her stomach at her display of emotion, but the tears carried on despite her attempts to dry her eyes. Her head pounded, exhaustion creeping in once again.
The Count pulled her close, brushing the hair out of her face. “You’ve had much excitement as of late,” he said. “You’ve traveled a great distance, left your loved ones behind. Don’t you recall our wedding night? You fainted even then.”
The memory of that evening returned to her, waking up by the fire. But even now, she could remember the marriage ceremony, the strange feeling that had washed over her before everything went black. But this was different.
Had it truly been an illusion from her fever?
She’d known the sick could suffer delusions, but it had felt so real, so vivid.
She looked up at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking of her now.
Did he think she was mad? Had he waited all these months only for his bride to arrive and prove herself unstable so quickly?
This man of noble blood, who could have most any woman he wished.
He pulled back, kissing her forehead gently. As he looked down at her, his expression was so tender she couldn’t help but feel guilty for doubting him. This man had only ever been kind to her. What reason did he have to lie to her?
“Your mind is fragile, my love. You are still adjusting to life in these mountains. None can blame you for that.”
The groan of a door hinge cut through the quiet. Mina looked up to see Sofia in the doorway, a tray in hand. When the woman saw her, she smiled, her face as joyful as Mina had ever seen it. “You’re awake,” she said, walking over to the bedside. “Are you feeling better, mistress?”
“It seems her fever has broken,” the Count said.
“But she’s been experiencing some vivid dreams in her illness,” the Count said.
“One where the castle was invaded and I left her alone to defend herself.” Embarrassment flushed Mina’s cheeks as she considered the words—a man like the Count, who had clearly lost much of his family, surely would never abandon his wife in such a way.
Sofia frowned, looking between Mina and the Count. “That sounds upsetting, mistress. But these mountains are known to bring vivid dreams.” She set the tray down on Mina’s lap—a small bowl of broth and a cup of tea. “It will do you good to eat something.”
Mina looked between them, the warmth in Sofia’s eyes, and the concern in her husband’s. And yet, she couldn’t help but ask, “So you don’t remember that happening?”
“An attack on the castle?” Sofia made a face of horror. “Certainly not. The Count would never allow such a thing.”
Mina exhaled, turning her eyes away from them. It had all felt so real, and yet, she couldn’t firmly grasp any of it now. She gave them a small smile, pushing back the concern in her throat. “You’re right,” she said. “It must have been a dream.”