Visions (The Daevas #2)

7 | Prestige

November 19, 1520

"Venise…"

I hear my sister call from a distance. My eyes are closed and I feel my whole body stiffen and ache beneath the cold wooden floor of our bedchamber.

I do not want to talk to her, in fear of what she has said to me. I did not move to my bed last night, for I was too weak -- and I am still weary right now.

"Venise…" Anne says again, her voice coming nearer and nearer by the second. 'Tis like I don't know her anymore. 'Tis like she is not my sister, but someone else who is inside Anna Marianne's body. I feel gentle hands touching my face, and my sister's soft lips on my forehead. "I just awoke and 'tis still dawn. I am feeling so scared and worried for you!"

I stiffen beneath her soft touch.

Anne sobs. "I am sorry, sister! What I had said last hours ago about your George…'tis all a jest! I did not mean for my jest to sound so very convincing! Oh Venise, please talk to me."

'Tis all a jest. Anne's dark jest. I slowly open my eyes, blinking as I adjust to the silky light of the glistening moon from our window. I see Anne's rosy face coming as smooth alabaster in the moonlight, and her eyes are full of tears. She looks so heartbreaking that I cannot even believe for one moment that what she said hours ago is true. My sister would never do a thing such as that. She can be very scary when she is in rage, and she may know some things about love, but I know that she would never betray me and her beloved fiancé, Edmund Fielding.

Just to try it, I press my hand in her arm, and squeeze it ever so gently. She does not know what I am about to do, and I am going to leave it at that. As I squeeze her arms, I look at her sternly, my light olivine eyes searching her dark orbs for any truth in all that she said. I feel nothing but lightness. My skills never failed me once, and I am positive that my sister is innocent -- and so is my George.

I nod at her hopeful, tear-stained face and she hugs me, helping me up. Anne guides me to my bed, pulling the quiltd up for me to be warm. I stare at her. "If you are telling the truth, Anne, what did you say to George when both of you went off for nearly an hour?"

Anne bites her lower lip, but she sighs, completely giving up. "If I tell you, George will think me untrustworthy," she says hesitantly.

I blink. "Why?"

"I planned it, but George agreed immensely," she continues on.

I raise my titian, arched brows and furrow them thereafter. I am waiting for her to continue further, and she takes my dire expression as a cue. I cross my arms.

"Well," Anne starts, finally settling for the truth of what she and George were talking about. "Do not ever tell George what I am about to tell you right this instant, Venise," she warns, arching an arrogant copper brow. I shrug, taking it as a yes. She breathes and continues. "We plan to move both our engagement earlier than five months."

I gape at her. "But we cannot do that!" I all but exclaim. "Anne, 'tis tradition, and we are princesses. Sweet Jesu, we ought to obey tradition." Once again, I am back to my old self. Anne rolls her eyes, ignoring my complaint.

"There is no harm in that, Venise," she says smoothly. "If you truly love your dear marquess, then you ought to think the prior date of both our marriage is too long and insufferable. I love Edmund with all my heart and I wish he was here with me. I cannot take five long months," she explains, shaking her head. "George promised to tell Father all about our plan, and George was planning to surprise you by coming here in two days' time with Edmund to have a talk with Father about the speeding date of our marriage."