A Dove's Tale

Chapter 98

"Ivetta. Ivetta!"

Theresa's insistent voice and rough hands shook me awake for the fourth time that night. I sat up, breathing hard and covered in sweat. She pulled me into a hug yet again.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"It's not your fault, Ivetta," she said reassuringly.

"Maybe you should just go to sleep, and I'll...sit on the balcony, or walk around or...or something," I suggested miserably.

"There's no way I'm sleeping while you're wandering around," she replied. "But since neither of us is sleeping, how about I draw you a bath and then make us some tea? There are probably some snacks I can find in the kitchens, too."

I nodded. "That sounds nice."

Six days. Six days since Theresa had become my roommate, and I was just waiting for her to say she couldn't do it anymore. I didn't have nightmares on the nights I got pain medicine, but they came back with a vengeance on the nights without. Like tonight. And it was probably past midnight, too, which meant this day marked the end of eight weeks. A cursory examination from the doctor in the morning, and then he would release me from his care. No more pain medicine. No more restrictions.

No more sleep.

I was praying this was just because of the medicine. There had always been a pattern before. The nightmares got worse right after something bad happened, and then they gradually went away, with only sporadic recurrences until the next traumatic event. I should have had horrible nightmares right after Chevalier rescued me, but I didn't because of the pain medicine. If it worked itself out the way it had before, I would have a few more nights of this, and then I'd be fine.

The coronation ceremony was in two days.

I sighed and sank into the bathwater Theresa drew for me. The hot water felt soothing to my tired body, and the smell of lilacs filling the air only increased my drowsiness. I could almost fall asleep right here. If only I could stay asleep.

Maybe Clavis could give me a sleeping potion the night before the coronation ceremony.

Theresa was waiting in the bedroom when I finished my bath. I thanked her and exchanged my towel for the clean nightgown she offered me.

"I thought we could sit out on the balcony," she said, holding out my dressing gown. "Since it's such a nice night."

The memories of all those nights I spent sitting on the hillside behind my house came back to me. After Mother got sick, that was how I handled the nightmares. A cool breeze on my face, soft grass beneath my feet, the quiet babbling of the river - it was all so soothing.

"Okay."

Theresa led the way with a tray loaded down with tea and scones. "The tea is probably cold by now, but I think it'll still be fine."

It was a nice night. A handful of wispy clouds blotted out a few stars in the otherwise clear sky, but the waxing moon was bright and unobscured. I didn't go to the railing to look down into the gardens. The spring green cushions on the settee were calling to me. Once Theresa finished pouring our tea and dishing up our scones, we sat in complete silence, save for the rustling of the rose vines decorating the balcony in the evening breeze.

"Do you know what you say?" Theresa finally asked.

"Whatever I said when it happened," I replied, knowing she was asking about the nightmares.

She nodded. "Then the first three nightmares were about you getting tortured. You kept saying, 'I don't know. Please stop.'"

A flash of darkness covered my mind. Flickering torchlight, the clanking and creaking of chains above my head, the overwhelming scent of blood, the thud of impact - first from a fist, second from me hitting the stone wall behind me.