Dream of Me/Believe in Me

have need of it.”
    Deep currents, she thought again, and nodded. The little bubble of hope that earlier that day had seemed pierced and gone suddenly reappeared. It seemed a tiny, opalescent pearl glowing within her, filled with rare and beautiful light.
    “Come,” Hawk said and held out his hand.
    On the beach, she had drawn back from his touch as though scorched. Now, she laid her hand in his and left it there.

Chapter FIVE

    W ITH A CRY OF ALARM, KRYSTA ROSE out of the depths of s leep struggling against the thick weight pressing in all around her. Desperately she fought to free herself, flailing her arms and legs against the hideous villain bent on smothering her.
“Aichoo!”
    Feathers knocked loose from the mattress she was pummeling tickled her nose, the sneezing they provoked clearing her head sufficiently for her to remember where she was. She threw off the lush fur cover and sat up, feeling the perfect fool and glad there was no one to observe her silliness.
    She was lying in an immense bed the same size as the one in Hawk's tower. It was, so she had been told, the bed King Alfred himself used when he came to Hawkforte. The chamber kept prepared for royalty was hers … for the moment. Still sleep dazed and bemused, she glanced around. Last night, the room had been visible only by firelight, lit by the torches the servants carried to escorther to her rest and by the copper braziers filled with glowing coals that made corners of the room gleam like living fire while filling the rest of it with dancing shadows.
    Today, by the sunlight streaming through the windows, she saw the luxurious appointments, the carved wooden furnishings, tapestries, and mats of woven rushes to cushion the floor. The bed itself was draped with embroidered hangings and piled with the furs she had thought crushing her.
    Never in her life had Krysta occupied such lavish quarters nor had she ever been so entirely alone. Always before, she knew either Raven or Thorgold was nearby, but now she had no idea of their whereabouts. She had not seen them since the preceding evening in the hall, and then they had not been able to exchange even a word. Tugging up the bed gown that had slipped over her shoulder, she recalled the moment when she entered Hawkforte's hall on the arm of its master. So thick was the curiosity that greeted them she thought Hawk would need his sword to slash their way through it. But he had merely continued on as though his people were not staring at them in stunned amazement, their gazes guarded, their manner poised to condemn her did he give the merest sign. At the high table, he paused for a moment, looked about him, and then, as though it were the most ordinary of matters, raised her hand in his and announced to all and sundry:
    “The Lady Krysta of Vestfold.”
    And that, it seemed, was that. He said not another word about her transformation and offered no explanation for her masquerade. But he did summon a second chair almost the size of his own for her to sit beside him. Seeing their lord's honored welcome of his bride-to-be, his lieutenants inclined their heads to her but not a one spoke to Krysta directly. They did, however, glance at her from time to time cautiously as though taking the measureof a creature previously unknown. Someone who had challenged the Lord of Hawkforte and emerged unscathed … apparently.
    So did the meal progress though Krysta managed to eat very little of it. She was too vividly aware that Hawk's people were weighing her in the balance and prayed they would not find her too wanting. Only Daria dared to make her opinion known and then only because the bitter woman seemed unable to contain the waves of anger rising off her. Father Elbert tried to whisper to her but she waved even him off and continued glowering her way through supper.
    It was over finally, leaving Krysta all but limp with relief. Hawk remained at table with his men but signaled the servants to accompany her to her quarters. He rose as she did, bowed over her hand, and wished her a cordial good night, all in the full view of their fascinated audience, who could not resist putting their heads together over that. Sleep seemed an impossibility yet it had come so suddenly as to take her unaware. Scarcely had she laid her head upon the pillows than she woke to the glare of morning.
    Late morning, it seemed, when she peered more closely at the light. Shocked to discover that she had slept much longer than she had ever