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Dreamwalker's Bride

“You are the least objectionable groom of all the ones I’ve seen,” Anaisa replied seriously. “Thank you for the glowing compliment,” Trace grinned, “but that didn’t quite answer my question.” ___ Anaisa is an orphan and a pariah. In an ultimate act of betrayal, her father, a Count of the Realm, is accused of deserting and betraying the army in a time of war. Not only is he immediately executed for the offense, but the king declares he must have been a fake all along! His two daughters are stripped of their titles and inheritance, replaced by a distant cousin and cast out of their home with nothing. Anaisa swears someday she will get her title and lands back, but in the mean time, she and her sister Katia have to figure out how to survive. Trace is an anomaly among his people; instead of revealing their son as a magic user and thrusting him into the public eye, his parents kept it a secret to allow him to choose the kind of life he wanted. Trace found himself content to rest and play in his own dream world instead of invading the nighttime visions of others. As an adult, his choice to remain unknown is thrown into jeopardy when a mysterious blackmailer forces Trace to enlist in the territorial war between nations, threatening to reveal his secret if the demand is not met. With the war now over, Trace believes he can finally go home to his farm and live the simple, unremarkable life he’s always desired. When Anaisa and Trace are thrown together by a royal edict, the sisters find themselves unwittingly tangled in the web of mystery and intrigue that surrounds the blackmailer’s escalating assignments for Trace. Anaisa begins to suspect it may be connected to the plot to replace her family in the noble court. As the scheme continues to unfold, lives, loves, marriages, and magic will be put to the test to see what forces in the world are strongest. If you enjoy this book, check out my other one, Pushing Back Darkness!

TheOtherNoble · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
453 Chs

Mornings are just awful

The morning of the ball arrived, bringing with it a flutter of nerves in Anaisa's stomach. Her dreams were still terrible–evidence that Trace had kept away from them–and she stretched her tired limbs.

She'd considered asking her husband to give her good dreams again, but she wasn't sure, for one thing, that she wanted to invite and condone the invasion he'd done before. Secondly, laying her heart's desires open to him, willingly, felt utterly vulnerable.

As long as he held his secrets from her, she hesitated to give him permission to access what was deepest inside her. 

A logical part of her brain argued back that he'd probably seen as much as he was likely to, and that she wasn't resting well without him. She would need all the rest she could get to do well at the ball, wouldn't she?

She'd changed her mind a dozen or more times, but it was too late for that now. The ball was tonight!