I stepped into the corridor with such thoughts nipping at my mind, catching a glimpse of Phelan up ahead, striding through the candlelight toward the hall.

I wasn’t surprised to discover he was venturing out to encounter the night’s offering, but I did wonder how many of us would. Six of us were wardens, but that didn’t mean all of us would roam the fortress, seeking out what could be our own nightmare.

I followed him through the winding passages, past door after door, tapestry after tapestry.

When I reached the entrance of the hall, though, I hung back, concealed in a shadow. I had a clear vantage point of the hall and could see Nura and Olivette limned in firelight as they paced, waiting for the dream to appear. I sensed Phelan was nearby, but I could no longer see him.

I tarried in the shadow, the stone wall rough and cold against my back.

“I’m not surprised to find you here,” Phelan said, his voice emerging from the darkness on my right.

“I could say the same about you.”

We stood in awkward silence together, close enough to sense the other but far enough away to have no chance of touching.

“Did you sleep this afternoon?” he asked.

Did you dream was what he meant.

“Yes,” I replied. “Did you?”

He was quiet for a beat, and then said in a husky voice, “Yes. I did as well.”

Another round of silence. I watched as Nura and Olivette grew weary of pacing the hall, choosing to sit on the edge of a table. They hadn’t slept; I could see the exhaustion in their faces.

“Is your brother coming to fight tonight?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

You should, I thought, biting the inside of my lip. I didn’t desire to see Lennox take this duchy and restore it back to life. But I had no doubt he would believe himself to be the best candidate.

I was opening my mouth to say something snide when I felt a rush of air. Phelan was in the shadow with me, and our arms brushed as he whispered, “Anna.”

He had never said my faux name like that, with urgent awe. And I swiftly learned why, when I saw the dream that manifested in the hall.

I was walking the streets of Endellion.

I stopped before a mirror in a storefront, to look upon my reflection.

This was my dream.

Heat spread through me like a fever. Mortification and dread unfurled in my thoughts, and for a moment I could only stand and helplessly gape as I watched my nightmare overtake the hall. I started to rush forward, only to be stopped by Phelan.

“Wait,” he hissed into my hair.

I froze until I remembered that Olivette’s father appeared in the dream as a sinister force. And Olivette was in the hall, watching everything with wide eyes.