Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

10 | Storied Nightmares

Following the fallout of the ball, the change in sleeping arrangement continued--much to Iliana's annoyance.

No matter how frequently she offered to switch, or alternate, Del insisted on sleeping in the window seat. It didn't matter if Zuher continued to steal him away for duels from which he returned battered and bleeding, or that she was instructed to do no more than share tea and gossip with court ladies. According to Del, as a proper gentleman it would be inappropriate for him to take the bed.

The offer to share was on the tip of her tongue, and once or twice the way he paused as she nagged, eyes shifting to the blankets, she thought he might have considered the same solution.

But, in the end, their stalemate continued without compromise.

Which was why when soft, mumbled words jerked her from sleep, Iliana was buried face-down in a pile of blankets and pillows, on the softest mattress she'd ever felt.

It felt like it took years for her sleep laden mind to catch on, but it was likely only a minute before she detangled herself from the covers. Hesitation burrowed in her mind, before she threw it off and slid from the bed.

His agitation became more obvious as she slipped around the head of the bed. The blanket he used had fallen to the floor, leaving Del's wound littered-body distractingly visible through the gap in his night robes. Moonlight slipped through the window, caressing his skin, and illuminating his form with a soft glow. Mumbled words continued to escape his lips, the pinch in his brow and the way he shifted about warning her how far from pleasant his current dream had to be.

Well, he'd woken her up once before, and it was in a much more complicated situation than this.

Iliana approached the seat, curled fingers hanging in the air for a moment, before she lowered them to gently shake his shoulder. The touch only seemed to worsen his dream as his breath caught, and the mumbled, incoherent words turned into soft swearing. Had the nightmare been any less obvious, Iliana might have laughed. In his dreams, at least, Del was apparently less proper.

He curled further into the pillows, tension overtaking his shoulders. "Cassia."

Iliana stilled. Cassia. His late wife.

She reached for him again, more determined this time as she shook his shoulder. "Del. Del, wake up. It's just a nightmare." She's not here.

He jerked back. His eyes fluttered open, jerking around the window, before settling on where Iliana stood. Sleep-laden confusion lay obvious for the longest moment in the furrow of his brow, even as his death grip on the pillows slowly eased.

"...Iliana..."

She nodded. "You were having a nightmare. I think."

Del hesitated. He shifted into a sitting position, back settling against the wall as he carded a hand through his curls.

"Oh."

Silence stole them. She could see it, though. The remaining agitation in his tense shoulders and small frown. So, after a moment, Iliana stepped to the opposite side of the window and crawled up, before settling her back against the wall. He watched her, expression neutral, as she got comfortable, before dragging her legs to her chest and curling her arms around them. Her chin on her kneecaps completed the pile.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She wouldn't make him. Gods knew Iliana wouldn't dream about sharing the contents of her own nightmares.

Still, she had to offer.

Tension, heavy with unrecognizable, electric weight settled in the air between them as Del seemed to weigh the offer. Then, he smiled and dragged a pillow into his lap. His feet extended to brush hers, sending a slow shiver down her spine.