The Dream

The music had stopped. The dancers bowed and moved away stylishly. She was looking from her throne sitting next to her husband. She turned to him and forced a smile, trying to show that she was pleased with the entertainment that he had provided in her honor.

That was how her dream always started.

From her seat, she could see everything and everybody. All the dancers, courtiers, and other officials who were dressed so elaborately were at her feet and command. There was a celebration of some sort.

But what? She did not know.

She looked down in her arms and found a little boy, sound asleep in her arms.

The question must have had a frightening answer for, even in her dream, she feared to find out the truth. Wondering who the child’s father was, her heartbeat raised to a frightening speed. She held the child to her bosom and tried to protect him.

But whom was she trying to protect her son from? All she knew in her dream was that she was worried sick about her son’s safety.

The man seated next to her, the man who she thought was her husband, took the child, literally forcing her arms open, and gave the newborn to another woman. She could not see anything or anyone but her son being taken away.

No! She screamed!

With a fright, she woke up. Looked around her room and realized that she was safe, but what of her child?

Her son?

In reality, she was not blessed to have a son of her own. As she relaxed and drew a deep breath, she sensed the pearly drops of sweat that ran down her face. She was soaked through from fear, from the anxiety of being parted from her newborn son in her dream.

‘It was just a dream.’ She tried to remind herself to calm her beating heart. ‘It was just a dream.’ But why did it feel so real? She could feel, sense, smell, and hear everything around her in her dreams as if she were living it.

"Had you have one of your dreams again, love?" Her husband asked half sleep.

"Aye!" She answered breathlessly.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" He asked again as he dragged words out of his mouth. The room was dark and she could not see him, but from the way he was talking, she knew he would fall asleep as soon as she started to talk.

‘Whatever for?’ She thought. ‘What is the use? These dreams never stop.’

"Nay!" She sat up straight and drew a deep breath. "Just try to go back to sleep, Patrick. I am fine, dear." She said softly trying to shake the sorrow and grief, which she had felt in her dream from her heart.

"All right, . . ." He was asleep again. She envied him. How could anyone fall asleep that fast? Ever since she had come to England, she had to struggle to fall asleep almost every night.

Throwing her legs over her side of the bed quietly, she stepped down and walked toward the window. The lush Persian carpet beneath her feet woke her senses. She went to the window cell and looked outside; the full moon had lit the entire estate. From the window, where she was standing, she could see the Abbey across from the river. Just looking at the Abbey’s towers calmed her down. Then she decided to go the manor’s chapel to pray. That was what she did every time she had her dreams, just as she had experienced that very night.

It was a cold spring nights. She grabbed her robe, wrapped it around her, and closed the belt tightly around her slim waist. Finding her slippers in the dark room was a bit of a challenge, but she managed to find them without waking Patrick up. On her way to the chapel, she stopped at Ariel and Blossom’s room. Their nursemaid was sleeping soundly. She stepped in and checked on her twin daughters. She tucked Ariel in, and as quietly as possible, without waking anyone, she left. It seemed to her like yesterday when she had given birth to them. It was a surprise to everyone that she had given birth to twins, especially when she was told that she would never be able to bear any child of her own. However, ever since the girls were born, she had not been able to bear another child.

She moved as if she were floating in the air, as if her feet were not touching the floor. Strands of her long beautiful black hair were flowing behind her as she moved swiftly through the corridors. With her black hair framing her fair and beautiful face, and her big golden eyes, she looked like a lioness. Her exceptional beauty was extremely unique and rare.

She came through the hallway, down the large and wide spiral stairs into the great hall. Looking around listening for any movement, she noticed that no one had awakened for the morning duties. Usually the baker and the cook were up before dawn to start their morning chores before the family had gone to their morning Mass.

She, then, turned to her right and stepped down a set of small stairs into the hallway that led into the chapel. The chapel was built for the manor’s use and it was considered very private. Father Paul from the Abbey across the river had baptized Ariel and Blossom there. It was moderately large compared to the other private chapels of other manors for Patrick’s extended family always had something to celebrate and used the chapel quite often.

It never failed. Every Christ Mass, baptism of a newborn child, marriage, and other ceremonies that came and went, Patrick’s in-laws always found a reason to use the chapel and as often as they could. Usually they stayed afterward to celebrate with Patrick and his family. Anna, who had died at childbirth, was Patrick’s previous wife. Her brothers kept a close eye on their sister’s children and loved Patrick as one of their own. They, however, have come to respect and adore Angel for what she was, a princess. Angel did not have any family of her own in England, but Patrick’s in-laws, with open arms, always considered her as part of their family.