Chapter 106: Unexplained Dreams

Elara:

I let out a sharp hiss as the small gardening tool slipped from my hand and scraped across my finger. Fortunately, it was nothing serious. The skin had only turned bright pink where the metal had caught it, and there wasn’t even enough of a cut to draw blood.

Still, before I could shake my hand and continue, Esmeray was already beside me.

"Careful," he reprimanded, his voice carrying that quiet disapproval that somehow sounded more effective than shouting. He took my hand gently and inspected my finger, turning it slightly beneath the pale greenhouse light before apparently deciding that I was fine.

His fingers remained around mine for a second longer than necessary before he finally let go, slowly, as though reluctant to release me. I pretended not to notice. Unfortunately, when I looked up, I found him staring at my face.

There was something about the way his green eyes were studying me that made me feel as though he wasn’t merely looking at me but seeing straight through me, past every excuse and carefully constructed wall I had put between myself and everyone else. I immediately looked away.

The silence between us stretched for nearly ten seconds before he finally asked, "What’s going on with you?"

I opened my mouth, ready to give him the easiest answer in existence - nothing - but the moment I glanced at him, his expression made it obvious that he wasn’t going to accept that answer.

I closed my mouth before that single word could escape.

Esmeray’s gaze remained fixed on me, patient but firm, and when I stayed silent, he gestured toward the flower bed beside us. "You have been distracted since you walked into the greenhouse," he pointed out, his voice calm but leaving very little room for argument. "You look paler than usual, you have dark circles beneath your eyes, and you have spent the last twenty minutes staring at the same patch of soil as though you are expecting it to give you answers."

I frowned slightly. "I wasn’t-" He raised an eyebrow, and I immediately stopped myself. It was quite clear that I wasn’t going to win this particular argument.

"And," he continued, "you were supposed to be removing the weeds." He paused and looked down at the plants before adding, "Instead, you have uprooted most of the flower plants."

My eyes widened. I slowly turned toward the flower bed, and my stomach dropped. He was right. The tiny plants I was supposed to preserve were lying scattered across the soil with their delicate roots exposed. I stared at the damage in horror before closing my eyes and letting out a long, defeated sigh.

"Oh."

Esme folded his arms. "Do you still intend to tell me nothing is going on?"

I opened my eyes and looked at him. The faintest hint of amusement had appeared in his expression, but concern remained underneath it. His expression softened as he asked again what was wrong. I stared at him for a moment, weighing how much I could actually tell him.

"I have been having nightmares," I finally admitted, my voice quieter than before. "And some other weird dreams. For the past few nights, mostly. I haven’t been sleeping much."

That was technically the truth. It simply wasn’t the whole truth. I didn’t tell him that nightmares about my family’s murder had haunted me for nearly past two months, constantly twisting the memories until somehow I became the reason they had died.

I didn’t tell him that since waking after the attack, I had repeatedly dreamed about that enormous silver creature trapped inside a magical cage, its silver eyes looking into mine with a familiarity I couldn’t explain.

And I definitely wasn’t going to tell him about the newest category of dreams - the ones that were neither nightmares nor anything I understood, but somehow involved five men I had absolutely no business dreaming about. Reign. Alaric. Lorien. Kairo. And Esmeray himself.

Just thinking about those dreams was enough to send heat rushing into my face. Thankfully, the greenhouse was cold enough that my cheeks were already pink, so I could pretend it was the temperature rather than the memories making me blush.

Esmeray, however, had been watching me strangely since I’d mentioned the nightmares, as though he knew something I didn’t.

"I see," he murmured finally.

I focused very intently on the ruined flower bed. "It’s not a big deal."

"You just admitted you are barely sleeping."

"People can function without much sleep."

"Not well."

"I have been functioning."

"You have been uprooting flowers."

I looked at him. "You really aren’t going to let that go, are you?"

"No."

His answer came so quickly that I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. It was brief, but the sound seemed to surprise both of us.

Esmeray’s expression softened further, and for a moment the heaviness I’d been carrying seemed slightly less oppressive. Then he stepped closer, his voice dropping into something gentler as he spoke, "You don’t have to tell me everything if you are not ready." I looked at him again. There was no pressure in his expression now, only concern. "But you shouldn’t have to keep suffering through it alone."

Something in my chest tightened at those words. I didn’t know why kindness had become so difficult for me to accept. Perhaps because every time someone offered it, I wondered what they would eventually expect in return.

He seemed to notice my hesitation, because he didn’t push further. Instead, he glanced toward the greenhouse windows, where the fading afternoon light had begun to disappear behind the academy towers. "There might be something I can do," he said.

I frowned as I asked, "For the nightmares?"

He nodded. "For the sleep."

I studied him curiously while my thoughts immediately returned to the dream he had woven for me weeks ago to help me escape the nightmare. So I naturally wondered if he’s offering to help me with his dream weaving ability.

"What exactly can you do?" I asked.

A small, almost mysterious smile appeared on his face. "I might have a way to help you sleep peacefully."