"You're sure? How close is it?" Trace's voice was tense.
"The walls almost touch the palace's, as I recall. It is very close," Anaisa frowned and paused. "It seemed full of the finest guests when Katia and I asked for work there. The letter-writer must be very rich to get such a place for you to stay."
Trace's mind raced. There was only one reason for his blackmailer to go to such an expense, and it didn't sit well with him.
His assignment must involve invading the dreams of those within the palace. The king himself, perhaps.
It was one thing to serve in a time of war, to bolster his comrades and to demoralize the enemy, though he hated the latter task immensely.
It was quite another to spy within his own country in a time of peace. His gut roiled, but he bade it calm down. Until he arrived, he wouldn't know the exact target nor goal of his work. It could be something benign, couldn't it?
But if that were the case, why wouldn't the person just ask the king to command him to do the work, either secretly or openly? The king's command could not be ignored, and there would be no reason to threaten Trace's wife or family.
No, there could be nothing good here.
If only he knew who was pulling the strings, he could report the person to the authorities, come clean, and be free of all this. Perhaps there was time for that once he reached the Capital. Once he figured out who the letter-writer was.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. Would he get tried for treason for cooperating with the person at all? If he reported what he knew, now, would they protect his family? What if his blackmailer had too much influence over the law?
Would the authorities even believe him?
He guessed not, at least not without more to go on than someone's dream of a ring with a wolf and snakes.
Trace was not a man of great subtlety. He liked to say what he meant and have things out in the open. It was why he'd gone years without using his gift at all, before he was forced into the army.
Not knowing secrets meant not having to keep them. Even keeping his ability and intrigue from Anaisa was wearing thin, and that after months poking around in the dreams of soldiers.
"You really have no idea who it is?" Anaisa prompted. "The man doing this?"
Trace startled, and looked at her. The hand in the dream had been a man's of course, but he hadn't assumed that from the start. If the rumors were true in the army, many of the female members of the royal family were also conniving and devious.
"What makes you convinced it's a man?" He asked curiously.
"The handwriting seems masculine," Anaisa pointed toward Trace's jacket, "I think. But mostly, I can't imagine Conlan working for a woman."
The insight was remarkable. Trace had to concede she had a point; Conlan's dreams had clearly shown his attitude towards females. To turn around and be in the service of one would be quite a change.
Trace simply nodded, "You're probably right."
Anaisa's eyes cut forward, and then shifted to different distant points at seemingly random intervals as her mind worked. It was almost mesmerizing to watch, especially since she didn't seem to notice him observing her.
The day stretched before them, endless yet finite. Occasionally Anaisa voiced little questions about the landscape or plants along the roadside. Her curiosity was charming, almost childlike in its thirst for knowledge of things outside the city.
"Will the farm truly be all right without anyone there to tend it?" She asked after he explained the seasonal cycle of a fall-blooming flower.
"The animals are taken care of, and the land has done well enough without me for longer than we've been alive," He grinned. "I was able to get what remained of the harvest brought in, so there's little for the land to do but settle for the winter. This really is the best time for me to be gone."
"But someone will be needed before the spring," Anaisa's mind seemed to be working on the problem with anxiety, and Trace almost chuckled.
"I'm sure we will," He responded. "We'll be home before too long at all."
"You must have been lonely," There was something new in her voice. A sadness for him?
"Scruffles kept me company," Trace smiled at the joke. "I do like it better, now though."
Anaisa considered his statement. "It is nice not to be alone."
The conversation drifted into silence again, and he wondered at her easy acceptance of his statement. He imagined more pushback about liking things better, some kind of rejection or holding him at arm's length, but none was forthcoming. It encouraged him, until he considered that she might be thinking of Katia, or some manner of sibling-like relationship.
Which is mostly what the two of them had currently. Yet, he liked her. Found her pretty and intriguing. He hoped, when they were out of danger, to woo her over time and take up a wholehearted marriage.
Did she hope the same? She still had avoided his touch entirely, jumping down from the horse and clambering up, always keeping her fingers at the edges of things she handed him so that they didn't brush his accidentally.
Would it be manipulative and wrong to engineer some circumstance where she could not avoid physical contact? Probably.
Was he still tempted to do so? More than a little.
Her avoidance seemed more habitual than intentional. At least, that is what his hopeful mind told him.
With effort, he pulled his thoughts back toward the problem at hand; what to do about his blackmailer. And yet, there was no new information to ponder, no new solution to mull over, no facts or observations to critique.
They hadn't seen Conlan on the road, which meant either the man had snuck off and gotten ahead of them, had some roundabout way of getting back to the capital, or had some other business to take care of before returning to his home city.
It was a shame. If Trace could find him and sleep in the same inn as Conlan again tonight, he might gain more clues… but then again, maybe not. Dreams were unpredictable.
His blackmailer had seemed to know almost more about Trace's gift than he himself. He'd never tested the geographical limits of his reach to others' dreams, yet was put in a position in the army camp so that his sense could narrowly encompass the edges of the enemy most nights.
At the time it seemed a strange coincidence, but now that he was again being sent to stay at an inn right next to the palace that was apparently 'ideally located', Trace wondered whether the blackmailer knew more than Trace had guessed before.
But how? How could one know more about Trace's powers than his own family? That was worth some contemplation.
"You've figured something out." Anaisa cut into his thoughts, startling him.
"What?" Trace sputtered lightly.
"Your face is very readable. What did you discover?" She challenged.
"Nothing I want to share just now," He answered with some measure of irritation. He wondered if she would ever revert to her policy of not prying. Maybe turnabout was fair play. "Anything you're thinking of that you would like to tell me?"
Anaisa had apparently considered this eventuality, for she looked nonplussed.
"Do you actually want to know, or are you asking so that I will stop pressing you?" She countered.
He paused. This wasn't forcing anything from her, yet somehow it felt that way.
"If you wish to speak, I would listen," He hoped that was mild enough to keep her talking without pressuring her. Anaisa tilted her head.
"Before we left home, your letter fell from the top of the cabinet. I didn't know what it was, and I read it before putting it back." She confessed.
Trace looked at her with surprise, which she obviously expected, but it wasn't surprise about the contents of her statement, but the fact that she told him.
He hadn't expected her to.
"I see," He remarked. "Thank you for telling me."
"I would have sooner, but I was afraid you would be angry…" She grimaced. "It wasn't on purpose!"
"I believe you," He assured her before she could launch into more of an explanation. "There's no need to defend yourself."
That cut her off, and she seemed taken aback by his easy acceptance of her explanation.
"Why did you believe me so easily, that it wasn't intentional?" She chewed her lip as she watched him.
The truth was, he had already seen it in her dream, but he needed a better answer than that.
"You're my wife." Trace told her after a moment. "Even if we have things we won't say, we're not going to lie to each other. We're a team, remember?"