“In some ways,” I replied carefully. “But in others, no. I was and still am exactly who I was before. Even in the moments when I was with you as Anna . . . I was Clem.”

“Did your father put you up to this?”

“No. It was all my doing. My decision.”

“And do you feel the same as you did at the beginning?” he asked. “Do you want to see me devastated? Disgraced? Do you want to hurt me, Clem?”

How should I respond? I was suddenly terrified to be vulnerable in his presence, uncertain where such a path might guide us.

“No, Phelan. You were not who I thought you to be at the beginning,” I said, my cadence clipped with frustration. “You turned out to be different. And I wanted to despise you. I wanted to throw more kindling on my hate and yet you gave me nothing to burn, because you are simply too good. Even now, you are too good.”

I shoved his chest for emphasis. He didn’t budge, but his hands rose to capture mine.

“How so?” he said. “I told you I wasn’t kind.”

“You gave me a room when you thought I had nowhere to go. You clothed me and spared no expense. You listened to me when I began spouting wild claims about Seven Wraiths and the knight. And even after you realized who I was . . . you protected me,” I said. “You should expose me now. I don’t know why you are holding my secret like it is one of your own.”

“And yet perhaps I will expose you,” he said. “In time.”

I froze, my hands still caught in his. “Are you threatening me now?”

“If my dreams are a threat, then yes.” He fell silent, as if he wanted me to find the explanation in his eyes. I couldn’t see it and pressed him for more.

“What are you speaking of?”

“I dreamt of you yesterday, Clem.”

My divided heart all but stopped.

“I dreamt of you,” he whispered again.

“A nightmare, I presume?” I countered, unable to help myself.

He smiled. “That I won’t say. Although you may see it whether I want you to or not.” He paused, his mirth fading. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

I stepped back, suddenly overwhelmed. My hands slipped from his and I walked about my chamber, in and out of the light. His dream might be the one to materialize tonight. Apprehension took hold of me like a claw.

“How did you see me in your dream?” I asked.

“In both ways,” he answered. “I saw you as Clem. And I saw you as Anna.”

“That won’t necessarily expose me,” I said, breathless from the shock of his confession. But when I met his eyes from across the room . . . I realized that it would. Whatever his dream held, it was going to reveal my secret.