Anaisa sat straight up in bed, startled. What a strange dream!
She remembered every detail with startling clarity. The feel of Trace's shoulder against her cheek, the spray of water through the air, the laughter.
She shivered. It was dawn.
Out of all the things or people in the world she could have called into her dream once she realized what it was, her mind had brought Trace. Her face burned. She tried to remind herself that he had secrets. He could still be an assassin of some kind. A spy. A murderer?
She shouldn't have such intense feelings for him that her stomach knotted into lumps when she thought about how he would react to knowing she'd had such a dream about him!
Did he dream about her?
She shivered again, electing to get out of bed and get dressed before Sapphira woke and started screaming for her. Likely she would want to go out again today, and Anaisa would have to pretend to be the princess once again.
Stronger words are rarely spoken... except at holiday gatherings when politics comes up. The strongest words are always spoken then.