Before coming to Barrowmere, Lenore's dreams were almost always limited to the confines of her uncle's estate. She never gave it much thought at the time. Since her waking hours were filled with silent despair hidden in her heart, it seemed natural that those feelings would spill over into her dreams.
Now, she expects that her dreams would be of Barrowmere and her nightmares of Rowanhart. For the most part, that's been the case. However, since the nights she was bedridden with a fever and trapped in confusing dreams, her regular dreams have changed. They all have one common factor.
Alaric.
It's not that she doesn't like seeing him appear in her dreams—she does—but it's becoming increasingly difficult to face Alaric in the waking world. Which is why she's sinking down in her bathwater after dismissing her maids. She just wants a moment to compose herself before settling into bed for the night.
She sinks into the water until it's above her mouth, blowing bubbles in place of sighing. She came to Barrowmere without any expectations. From the beginning, this was meant to be a loveless marriage. Amicable, sure. But anything more than that, well, she agreed that she'd be okay with that from the start.
Then, she actually started spending time with Alaric. He's not cold in a cruel way, but distant as if he's protecting himself from the world around him. As it turns out, he's just a lonely man behind the curses and ageless years that have passed him by. She can tell because she's felt that same loneliness ever since she was taken to her uncle's estate. A disconnect from the rest of the people in her life as they continue moving and she stays still.
The last thing she wants to do is cross the boundaries that Alaric set. Even if she can only stand beside him and never get closer, it's enough for her. She doesn't want to leave Barrowmere. Alaric doesn't need to feel any specific way towards her. Since she never expected to be married off or find love, one-sided feelings are something she can accept.
As long as she can be part of Alaric's life, she can accept almost anything.
She dries off and dresses in her nightgown before the water turns cold. With her maids dismissed for the night, her room feels empty. She's grown so used to having servants around her that the stillness of night has become a stranger. Well, maybe it's not so bad to live a noisy life. Not when she's in a place where making noise at the wrong time is punishable.
After she slips between her sheets and pulls her thick quilt—newly added as part of the estate's winter preparations and so warm that she resists leaving her bed in the morning—up to her neck, she closes her eyes, trying to think about Vella's upcoming visit in an attempt to convince her brain not to dream about Alaric.
The summer sun casts a warm glow over the gazebo in the garden as it sets, letting Lenore enjoy the view while sitting at a table with Alaric across from her. This is the lakeside villa. Her brain fills in the information when she starts to think that this sight is unfamiliar to her. Then, she looks at the lake and the way its water shimmers at dusk and concludes that, yes, this is indeed the lakeside villa.
Her teacup is empty now, but she doesn't remember drinking it or what kind of tea was served to begin with.
"We should go inside soon." Alaric stands up, and she takes his offered hand. "The weather isn't bad, but the temperature will drop once the sun sets."
Lenore walks beside him with her hand on his arm as if it's natural for him to be escorting her. "I wish I could see the sun set like this every night."
"Well, we can't stay at the villa forever, but I can promise to bring you back next summer." His smile is warm, and his eyes are no longer burdened by the weight of his responsibilities.
"Okay," Lenore says. "You promised."
She understands that this isn't quite right, but it's difficult to pinpoint the problem. The servants of the villa serve her and Alaric dinner, but she's not hungry, and the taste is a bit off. Bland. While she smiles and thanks the servants, she realizes that their names and faces fade from her memory the moment they're out of sight.
"Alaric?"
Alaric looks at her, and when he does, the levity in his demeanor turns into concern. "What is it?"
Lenore looks around at the dining room. It's aa if the room changes a little bit every time she turns her attention away. "Doesn't something feel strange?"
In a moment, he's at her side, the back of his hand against her forehead to check for a fever. "Are you sick?"
Lenore's body is heavy, but she doesn't think it's from sickness. "No, I don't feel sick."
Alaric is unconvinced, and he's already helping her out of her chair, glancing at a nearby servant. "Get the physician. Tell him—"
As soon as Alaric starts to say her name, Lenore hears a shrill ringing sound. It's sudden and loud, making her flinch away and cover her ears.
"Do you hear that?" She's fairly certain that she's yelling.
Alaric's mouth is moving, and she knows that his hands are on her shoulders. However, the sound is deafening and painful to the point that she squeezes her eyes shut in an attempt to block it out.
With a gasp, Lenore's eyes snap open, and she finds only darkness. While the sound she heard in her dream is gone, there's a quiet ringing that lingers in her ears like an aftereffect.
Well, she doubts that she's going to be able to return to sleep right away. If she wanders the manor again, it could end with her passing out like last time. She doesn't want to trouble Alaric like that again and risk being seen as a nuisance.
As she remembers waking up to find him at her bedside, there's an almost overwhelming urge to go to him and ask if he'll stay next to her until morning comes. Not anything intimate. Just a bit of companionship and closeness. She feels warmth rush to her cheeks at the thought of sleeping next to Alaric, hearing his steady breath to keep her grounded, and she buries her face in her pillow.
This is a dangerous line of thinking.