Eldred shrugged, and said politely. “We expect the king to do whatever is necessary to rouse his son.”
William stared at them a moment, then said. “My son has already awakened. He did not say what caused his sleep, though I scarcely believe he knows. Tell me what is in this poultice, and how it might help him heal better than my own doctors.”
Eldred turned to Dwennon, the two sharing some secret communication, and then Dwennon spoke. “It is a special blend of herbs that help the body receive nutrients more easily. I take it now that your doctor has suggested the prince only eat liquids?”
The king nodded. Dwennon continued. “With this poultice, he will be able to eat heartily tomorrow and regain his strength more quickly.”
King William felt weary of these visitors. He didn’t intend to let them give his son mystery concoctions, but he also didn’t intend to offend neighboring rulers. That had definitely been the seal of King Edmund. He smiled and said. “I’d like to consult with my doctors before administering anything to my son. Since he is so weak, you’ve journeyed so far and it’s late, I’ll prepare sleeping quarters for you and you can rest until morning.”
Dwennon nodded, smiled softly, and said. “That sounds wonderful, your highness. Wise and kind all at once. When you see your son, though, please do tell him that Rose’s Uncle Dwennon would like an audience with him at his earliest convenience.”
* * *
James had made the servants prop him up on pillows, even though he didn’t feel like sitting up. His head swam and he felt like he might tip over. He would have seen no one, which his father had suggested, except that he knew Rose’s uncle had to have answers. Perhaps he held an explanation of what had happened. He even claimed to have a cure to help James recover more quickly. Though James had promised his father that he would not eat or drink anything these strangers gave him.
His father was not a particularly distrustful man, but he was wary, especially of people from Epesland. While King Edmund was generally viewed as good-spirited and peaceful, his father had been a warmonger. He’d conquered a neighboring kingdom and was said to have attempted to overthrow a magical realm. Only he’d failed and was murdered. Edmund’s aunt had ruled in his stead until he came of age. And shortly thereafter, he married Blissa and had ruled evenhandedly.
“Edmund seems fair,” James’ father had said. “But one never knows what lurks beneath, and it seems doubtful the ruthlessness of Errol could simply have skipped his only child.”
Had he been feeling better, James might have replied, “The way your ruthlessness has passed over me?” Only the effort of speaking made his mouth and throat hurt, so he simply watched his father and said nothing. Except when his hoarse throat whispered, “Rose’s uncle — see him, please.”
His father had immediately said James was too weak, that he needed rest, but he’d been adamant, croaking out, “See him now.” After a bit of bluster and a diatribe on the duplicity of Errol, James’ father relented and left the room, promising to return with the uncle shortly.
It had probably been ten minutes now, and James was starting to wonder if he shouldn’t have just let the old man see him in his utterly miserable state. Lying on a bed, his skin aching, and every part of his body tinged with pain. He wasn’t even sure why. Lack of food should have made him tired, not pained.
Just as the thought occurred to him, there was a knock at the door, and a moment later, it opened. James’ father entered, followed by a stooped old man with white hair and a cane. They walked over to James, and stood by his bedside.
“As you can see,” King William said. “My son is still very ill, and I’m not sure you can do much visiting with him.”
The old man smiled and said, “I will do most of the talking.”
“Father,” James said, the single word blistering his throat. His father looked at him expectantly, so despite the pain, James whispered, “Leave us, please.”
King William looked as if James had just said something blasphemous. “Son,” the king said. “ Someone should stay with you.”
James shook his head. He knew he needed Dwennon to speak with him in full confidence, in fully privacy. His father looked as if he might resist, as if he might say he was the king and he intended to stay, but after a moment he nodded, patted his son’s hand, and said, “The guard will be standing just outside the door. Call if you need anything”
James nodded and watched as his father left the room. The old man then moved closer to the bed, standing right in front of James. He was wearing a cloak, and he reached inside and pulled out a small bottle with a cork in it. Despite his age, he adeptly uncorked the bottle and proffered it. “You’ll feel better if you drink this,” Dwennon said. James looked at it wearily. He’d promised his father he wouldn’t drink anything, but his body felt such misery, the prospect of anything that could heal it made his mouth water. But he also didn’t know this man. Could his father be right? Could it be a trick?
Dwennon seemed to sense his reluctance and said. “Rose needs you, and she needs you sooner rather than later, so please drink it. It’s not harmful. My wife, Hilaria, made it for you. It will take away the pain and allow your body to recuperate in the quickest possible fashion.”
Rose needed him. That was really all the man needed to have said. The rest was somewhat reassuring, but he felt confident that Rose was in danger and he needed to get well to help her. Through intense ache, he took the bottle, lifted it to his lips and downed it. There hadn’t been much in the bottle, and the liquid tasted sweet like honey, but also fiery. It burned going down, so much so that he winced after he’d swallowed.
But then, almost as if by magic, his throat felt soothed, as did the rest of his body. Where there had been aches and pains, there was now peace. It was as if this potion had wiped away all the ills from him. And his hunger pains, which the doctor said could not be satisfied, lest he vomit it all up, seemed to subside.
“How did it do that?” James asked.
Dwennon smiled, then took a couple of paces to grab a chair in the corner, pulled it up to James bedside, and sat down. “It’s a bit of herbs and medicines and a sprinkle of magic,” he said. “You should feel well enough for us to speak now.”
James nodded. He did feel well enough to speak. And he was glad. “What’s happened to Rose? Is it the curse?”
Dwennon nodded. “Yes, she will sleep for a hundred years unless she receives a kiss from her true love.”
“Then, we should go at once,” James said, sitting all the way up, then pushing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. That’s when he felt light headed, as if he might fall.
“Sit down,” Dwennon said. “My wife is a healer, and she was able to provide medicine to reacclimate your body to the waking world, but you still need to gain strength through food and real rest. We can’t go until you’re strong enough.”
James sat, his lightheadedness decreasing pronouncedly with that action. “How long until I’m strong enough?”
Dwennon breathed out. “Probably three to four days,” he said. “But it’s crucial that during that time you don’t try to contact Rose. You may get stuck again.”
James stared at the old man. “What happened to me, anyway? My parents are clueless, and I know that somehow I was with Rose, the way we used to be, but also that it was different.”
“Rose’s mother was a fairy,” Dwennon said. “She was a princess in her kingdom, and was supposed to inherit the realm. Only, she fell in love with Prince Edmund, and she chose to give up her fairy powers in order to marry him.”
“Why did she have to give them up?”
“Because it is forbidden in our kingdom for fairies to have relationships with men. When fairies mate with men, in the hours following their time together men grow stronger, incredibly strong compared to other men. They grow as strong as fairies. This strength has never been a huge issue among couples who marry. But when Blissa, Rose’s mother, was a child, her aunt began having relations with King Errol, Edmun
ds father. He convinced her he loved her, when all he wanted was the strength their dalliances afforded him. He also wanted to rule the fairy kingdom. He wanted to enslave our women so that they could improve the fortune of his armies. He brought a small cavalcade of men and hoped to overthrow King Roldan, Blissa’s father. Radella sacrificed her life to ensure that wouldn’t happen, and Roldan forbid the mating of humans and fairies. Blissa, not wanting to overrule her father’s decree, abdicated her throne and her powers in order to marry Edmund. The next in line was Radella’s daughter, Blissa’s cousin Maurelle.”
James narrowed his eyes. “But wasn’t Rose cursed by an evil fairy named Maurelle?”
Dwennon nodded, closed his eyes as if his thoughts pained him. “Maurelle is Blissa’s cousin. Rose’s cousin, too. But Maurelle has never forgiven Blissa for marrying the son of the man who murdered her mother. As much as we have tried to convince Maurelle that each man be judged for his own, she can see nothing but her mother’s dead eyes when she looks at Edmund. She cannot forgive, and that led her to curse Rose.”
“Then once I am well, I will go to Rose and kiss her.”
Dwennon shook his head. “It’s not that easy,” he said
James raised an eyebrow. “Why not? You said she just needs my kiss.”
“That is all she needs,” he said. “But you, you will need help getting past Maurelle. She’s a fairy, a powerful one.”
“She guards Rose?”
“Not yet,” Dwennon said. “But my friend, the man I came with me, is an oracle. He used to work for Maurelle and he knows her well. He knows that she will do everything in her power to stop you, once she realizes that you are Rose’s true love and that you can awaken her.”
“But why does she care? She allowed this as something that would awaken Rose. So, why does she care if it comes to pass?”
“Because she thought — well, we all thought that when Blissa gave up her powers, it would end them in her line. Only it didn’t. Rose has fairy powers. A great deal of them. This means Rose, as the granddaughter of Roldan, can claim Maurelle’s throne. She has more of a right to it than Maurelle.”
James shook his head. “Rose isn’t interested in the throne.”
Dwennon shrugged. “Perhaps not now, but she might be, especially if she were to learn of Maurelle’s careless rule. No, if Maurelle wants to keep the life she’s come to know, Rose must sleep a hundred years. And Maurelle will do whatever it takes to stop you.”
James leaned back on the pillows, trying to digest all the old man had said. An evil fairy queen who would do all in her power to stop him. He hadn’t anticipated this.
“I’m going to ask you a very personal question,” Dwennon said. “And you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to. But your answer will determine how likely you are to succeed in awakening Rose.”
James motioned for Dwennon to ask his question.
“Rose left us on her birthday to visit someone. Was it you?”
James nodded, though that didn’t seem very personal to him.
“Did you have relations with her on that day?”
James blushed. There was the personal question. He debated answering a moment, then nodded.
Dwennon smiled. “I suspect that’s why you’re still alive. The strength men procure from relations with fairies tends to be proportional to the power of the fairy. A fairy with great power provides a great increase in strength. Ones with lesser power provide less strength. Members of the royal line tend to provide more strength than your average fairy, but it also tends to be proportional. Radella, Maurelle’s mother, had great power, both elemental and emotional gifts. Blissa is royal and her power of bliss is, um, quite useful, but it’s not stupendously strong. Giving up her powers to be with Edmund was an act of love and kindness. But even had she maintained them, she would not have offered him extreme strength. Yes, her husband’s strength would have been great compared to men, but not so menacing as a fairy. However, with Rose’s powers, the strength she could give to man is great. The strength she gave to you was great enough to allow her to draw you into a cursed sleep. It was great enough to allow you to survive for weeks without human sustenance.”
James couldn’t help feeling startled by the revelation. Yes, he’d known he felt exhilarated after being with Rose, but it seemed somewhat preposterous the idea that being with her had given him strength. Though, as absurd as it sounded, he could think of no reason why he hadn’t died, even though he’d gone two weeks without food.
“It’s why you are weak in the way that you are,” Dwennon said.
“I don’t know what you mean,” James said.
“Since when has hunger brought pain to people?” Dwennon asked. “Weakness, yes, but aches and pains in every part of your body. That is a side effect of overindulgence in the fairy power. Mate with a fairy once or twice, and you’ll have enormous strength. But if you continue to do it, without exerting that energy, it can cause pain. The kind of pain you had. I take it you and Rose were active in your dream sleep?”
James nodded.
“That’s a good thing,” he said. “It’s why I asked. It means that her powers gave you strength even in the dream state,” Dwennon said. “For the moment, you need to eat, rest, and regain your strength. In three days, we will set off to Epesland and you will awaken Rose.”
Chapter 19
Rose had actually fallen asleep in her dream. It was weird. That had never happened before. She was always well rested, even after a night of long and vivid dreams. But now she was tired, even in her dreams, even though the sun was still bright.
She was worried. Worried the curse had taken hold of her. But she didn’t know how or when it would have happened. She remembered so vividly her afternoon of love making with James. Then, she’d gone home, but she could remember nothing after that. She couldn’t remember talking to Hilly or Dwennon, or even going to bed. It wasn’t that odd, though. Dream sleep often clouded one’s memories. It was the reason she and James knew so little of each other, despite knowing each other well.
She wondered if she should call to him again. She’d sent him away because she’d been worried. But maybe that had been foolish. Maybe he had been fine. Or even if he hadn’t been fine, maybe he would be fine now. She yearned to see him. To smell that wonderful scent that was his, a woodsy, earthen mix that made her heart sing.
But maybe she should nap first. She was very tired. Truthfully, she and James had been quite active in their time together. It seemed very silly to her now that they hadn’t done that before, that she’d been reluctant to feel him deep inside of her, smothering her with kisses, making her heart beat faster, filling her with pleasure. That had been a mistake. One she hoped to rectify when she saw him in waking hours.
Maybe that was why James had looked ill. Maybe it was because he wasn’t supposed to be in dream sleep. Or maybe they weren’t supposed to make love in dream sleep. He’d always been fine before. Maybe something about doing that particular thing at night in their dreams tired him, sapped him of energy, making him ill.
Perhaps she would call to him again, and they would visit as they used to. She would make sure he didn’t look so pale and gaunt. They would take pleasure in each other’s company, not just their bodies, despite the urge she felt even now.
“Rose,” she heard. Someone was calling her name. “Rose,” the voice said, louder now, She recognized it.
“Mama?” she called back.
“Rose,” the voice called again, but this time a delight in it, a delight at being heard. “Dear, call out to me again so I can find you.”
“I’m here, Mama. In the meadow.”
A moment, later her mother ran into view. Her face was flushed and she was wearing a red silky nightgown. It was odd to see her mother without cheer. Whenever she visited Rose’s dreams, Blissa was always happy.
Her mother ran to her and threw her arms around Rose. “Thank goodness I’ve found you,” she said, breathing heavily. “I’ve been l
ooking, it seems like I’ve been searching for days, but it’s always hard to tell how long you’ve been under in an enchanted sleep.”
Blissa released her daughter and looked around frantically. The meadow was surrounded by woods, but everything on the flat grassy plain was exposed and whatever it was Blissa was looking for was not to be seen.
“Where is James?” Blissa asked.
Rose squinted at her mother and lifted a hand to her chin. “How do you know about James?”
Blissa explained quickly all that had happened in the recent days and as Rose listened, her heart sank. Her mother knelt next to her, wrapping an arm around her.
“I sent him away,” Rose said, turning frantically to her mother. “James looked ill, so I told him to go and he disappeared. But what if he wasn’t alright? What if he died?”
“Dwennon and Hilly will attend to him,” her mother said, patting her daughter on the back. “You needn’t worry. If you sent James away, and he was still alive in your sleep, he will still be alive when he awakes, alright.”
Rose sat on the ground, the soft cushiness of the grass somehow making her feel worse. She wished the ground were harder, that things would be better if it somehow mirrored the reality of her predicament. But everything about this enchanted dream sleep seemed intent on fooling her. Intent on making her think everything was alright. Perhaps that was the real curse of the sleep. That you spent one hundred years believing that all was well, only to learn it was a lie. When you awoke expecting the next morning, you learned everyone you knew and loved was dead. That everything familiar was gone.
Tears trickled down her cheeks and she buried her head in her hands. This was awful. It couldn’t be happening. Could it? She lifted her head and looked around. Of course it was happening. She looked back at the sun. Unmoving. It seemed eternal morning. Yet two weeks had passed.
She looked at her mother. “What can we do? How do we wake me? Is that why you’re here? To help me awaken?”
Blissa shook her head. “I wish I could awaken you. I can’t. Maurelle’s curse was very clear. One hundred years of sleep or a kiss by your true love. Only James can awaken you.”
Dream Trysts: A Sleeping Beauty Story (Passion-Filled FairyTales Book 4) Page 10