The Dream Keeper's Dragon

3.2 What If I Command It?

"Oh, now! I knew you were going to regret it. Didn't expect it to be quite so soon!" Cassandra moved around and lowered herself onto her knees. "We've got wigs in the castle, don't you worry. It doesn't even look half bad."

Aurelie waved her worry away. "No, it's not the hair."

"Ah, it's that boy that was taken, isn't it? The commander's son."

Aurelie nodded. "Ugh!" She wiped at her eyes, stretching her skin to the sides of her face. What must you think of me? "I wish I could stop it, but thus far leaving the bed has been a task."

Cassandra lay down the comb on the floor beside her. "I lost my eldest son ten years ago." She smiled in a way someone does to avert tears. "He was just nineteen. Now, you'll get people who'll attempt to comfort you by saying that it gets better—that you'll get a part of yourself back again, but it doesn't and you won't. They'll speak about beautiful memories that can never be taken away and the luck you had to have to possess whatever was lost in the first place." She raised a finger. "In reality, nothing changes but you. You have the power to decide when you will start to live again despite the pain. No love is the same, no death is the same. You own both. Decide what to do with it."

"He's not dead! We don't know that. They'll—They'll want to keep him as leverage . . . or something. Surely." Aurelie slowly lifted her eyes to look at her. "You must think me so weak."

Cassandra pursed her lips. "We're all weak, Princess. That's how you know you're still human."

Aurelie blinked away tears. She couldn't afford to be weak, but somehow everything she looked at reminded her of him, and there was no way for her to escape the jolts of pain that came with each memory. She would eat a piece of bread and the taste would link itself to the inn, and there he'd be, tormenting her with how much she needed and missed him. But she wanted that. She wanted him to always be with her and yet it broke her anew each time. "I just can't seem to find a way to do anything but think. If I cannot force myself to sleep, I lie there and I think. And every path leads to him. The other day, I walked into the closet to wash my face, and the scent of wood summoned him to me. I cried until one of the girls got worried and nearly broke the door down to reach me. I want the pain. I want him to never leave my thoughts. But I need to breathe and that's only becoming more difficult." She sighed. "They won't let me do anything to help either. If I could be out there looking for him . . . but where would I start?"

"You're the heir, I'm sure you have plenty to busy yourself with. Ask your father to put you to work. The infirmary never has enough hands. The herbalist can't stop complaining about how little help he gets, even though he gets more than anyone in the castle. He'd be happy to have you there to moan to. There's plenty to do here."

Aurelie felt more at ease after hearing Cassandra speak. She reached for a strand of her hair and remembered that it was now spread across the floor. "I wanted to see the villagers with the King this morning, but I suppose I've missed their arrival now."

"He didn't see any today. I heard a guest was coming. The servants referred to him as the Keeper, of what I'm not sure." Cassandra stood back up and patted Aurelie on the shoulder.

"Did you say the Keeper?" she asked. He had been entirely forgotten to her until that very moment. "We better move this along. I need to see him."

"Well, I can't leave you looking like this. They'll have my job the second you leave this room."

For a long moment, they were both silent. Cassandra attempted to fix the mess on her head, and Aurelie contemplated what had just occurred between them. "Thank you," she said.

"We all need companions even, and especially, in our despair. You know," she paused, "you have the perfect escape right outside this door. I'm not saying that it's healthy, or even logical to bury your feelings, but you have the leisure to be responsible for thousands upon thousands of people. Feed the hungry, clothe the cold and heal the sick. Who knows, that might be the secret to saving your soul, and if doesn't, it will sure as day take your mind off the things that broke it."