Selese woke screaming.
She sat straight up in bed, sweating despite the cool summer night. She looked all about her, trying to understand where she was, what had happened.
It was a dream. It had seemed so real—too real. She sat there, gasping. She reached up and rubbed her face and hair, trying to feel for the spider web. But there was none—nothing but her cool, clammy skin.
Selese surveyed her surroundings and saw she was still in the safety of the Queen’s castle, in the luxurious room given to her by the queen, lying on a pile of furs. A slight breeze stirred through the window, it was a perfect summer night, and absolutely nothing in the world was wrong.
She got up, crossed the room, and splashed water on her face. She breathed deeply, rubbing her eyes again and again, trying to understand.
How could she have had such a dream? She had never had nightmares in her life. Why now? And why had it been so vivid?
Selese walked over to the open-air window and stood there, looking out at the night. Beneath the faint light of the second moon, there was King’s Court, in all its splendor. She could see her wedding preparations, perfect below, everything in order for her double wedding with Gwendolyn. Even at night everything was so beautiful, the flowers glowing beneath the moonlight. The wedding was still a half moon away, and yet all was ready. Selese was in awe at the spectacle it would be.
Selese was so honored to be getting married together with Gwendolyn, so grateful for the kindness that her future sister-in-law had shared with her. She also felt overwhelmed with a surge of love for Reece. She did not need any of this lavishness; all she wanted was to be with Reece.
But as Selese stared down below, all she could see was her dream. That horrible aisle; the thorns; the web; falling through the earth; the other woman. Could any of it be true? Was it just a horrible dream—or was it some sort of omen?
Selese stared out at the clouds racing beneath the moon, and she wanted to tell herself it was all just fancies of the night. Perhaps it was just the stress of preparing for the wedding.
But deep down, Selese could not help but fear it was something more. She could not help but feel that Reece, out there somewhere, was in terrible danger.
And as she looked down at the beauty of all those wedding preparations, she could not help feeling, with a deep sense of dread, that their wedding would never come to be.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Reece grabbed hold of the thick, knotted rope, leaned over the edge of the ship, and threw up yet again, as the ship tossed and turned on the rolling seas, as it had been ever since he left the mainland. He grabbed hold of the thick knotted rope and did his best to straighten himself. He leaned back and wiped his mouth, grateful that they were close.
Despite the summer month, Reece shivered. It was unforgiving here in the Upper Isles, at least twenty degrees colder than it had been on the mainland; the currents, too, were more turbulent, and the cool ocean spray hung in the wind, keeping him wet. It had been an awful journey, sailing into a driving wind, the boat carried high, then low, on the sea the entire way, nearly all of its passengers throwing up.
Reece did not know how they had made it this far, in this raging ocean, in this desolate place. It had not been a long journey, and yet it felt like years. There was something about the climate here, the endless, monotonous grey, that just put him in a foul mood. The damp cold had sunk into his bones, and he could not wait to set foot on shore and get himself beside a roaring fire.
Beside Reece stood Krog, also grabbing the railing, but not throwing up as the others. On the contrary, he smiled down at Reece.
“Looks like one of us has a stronger stomach than the other,” Krog mocked, grinning wide.
Reece caught his breath, wiping his mouth. Krog’s mockery made it all worse.
“I hate you,” Reece said.
Krog smiled wider.
“Why have you joined me on this journey?” Reece asked. “To help me? Or to torture me?”
Krog grinned, patting Reece on the shoulder.
“Maybe a little bit of both,” Krog replied.
Reece shook his head, overcome with yet another wave of nausea. He was not in the mood for Krog.
“I never should have saved your life,” Reece said.
“You’re right,” Krog replied. “That was your first mistake. Now you’re stuck with me. Loyalty dies hard.”
“You call this loyalty?” Reece asked. “You have a funny way of showing it.”
Krog shrugged and turned away.
The ship jerked, and Reece looked up and watched as they narrowly avoided a long stretch of rocks, then finally touched shore, the ship landing on the sand with a jolt. All hands rushed forward and dropped the anchor beside Gwendolyn’s fleet, then hurried to lower the planks and secure the sails.
Horns sounded up and down Gwendolyn’s fleet of ships, their unique pattern heralding the arrival of a member of the royal family, and on the shore below Reece could see, lined up, dozens of Gwen’s soldiers, ready to greet him in a show of respect. Reece noticed that Tirus’ people were conspicuously absent from welcoming him.
Standing before all the men, Reece spotted Matus, Tirus’ eldest, his cousin, the one person here he had remembered most fondly from his youth. He hurried forward, shielding his eyes from the mist and helping the others secure the planks, clearly excited for Reece’s arrival.
Reece’s men lowered the plank and Reece hurried down it, Krog and the others following; the wind picked up and sheets of rain poured down as Reece reached the shore.
Matus hurried forward and Reece embraced him, clasping forearms.
“Welcome, my Lord,” Matus said.
“I am not a lord,” Reece said, “I am merely a member of the royal family, as are you, cousin. Thank you for greeting me.”
Matus smiled.
“I would have it no other way. Srog asked me to apologize on his behalf—he was detained by an urgent matter at court and asked me to give you a tour first, then bring you to the castle—if you don’t mind my company.”
Now it was Reece’s turn to smile.
“I would have it no other way,” he said. “I wish to tour the isle first anyway.”
The two of them turned and set off, Reece walking side-by-side with Matus, all of their men falling in behind them.
They walked for hours, covering all the landscapes of the Upper Isles, the sun finally breaking through the clouds as Matus filled him in on everything. The two of them talked like brothers, and it all came back to Reece, how close they had been as children, how well they had always gotten along. They were each the youngest of their siblings, and each the same age, and each knew what it meant to grow up in an ambitious royal family.
They caught up on their childhood, on all the affairs of the MacGil families, and as Reece passed through various towns and villages, some childhood memories came back to him in flashes. He remembered playing in certain places, waiting for his father outside certain forts. He remembered, even back then, it being a cold, hard place, a climate he did not wish to return to.
As he went, Reece took in all the stares of all the locals, observed as much as he could, and noticed they were not all that friendly. He sensed some tension in the air.
“It is quite different being here now than it was when we were young,” Reece said. “When I was a child, there was harmony upon our arrival, a great respect and fanfare shown my father. Now, I observe a certain coldness in your people.”
Matus shook his head apologetically.
“I apologize for them,” he said. “You indeed have a keen eye. Our people are still upset about Tirus. They
