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Victoria jumped into bed and hid under the covers. For some inexplicable reason, she didn’t want him to think that she’d waited for him this entire time, although she’d done exactly that.

And even though she wanted nothing else than to talk to him, to ask him where he’d been, instead, she pretended to be asleep.

William stepped into the room and paused, his heavy breathing the only indication of his presence. After a few brief moments, he walked past the bed and locked himself in the dressing room.

A few more moments passed, and Victoria already felt the irresistible pull of sleep, when William climbed into bed beside her.

Victoria shifted to her side and opened her eyes.

“Oh, good.” William smiled as he looked at her. “I was afraid I missed my kiss.”

“You almost did,” she chided, feeling foolishly angry at him because of that fact. She didn’t even want to kiss him!

“As long as I didn’t…” He shifted closer, his large body rocking the bed with his movements.

Victoria wanted to ask him where he had been this entire time. She wanted to argue that it wasn’t fair for him to leave her all alone for half the night and then climb into bed with her and demand the kiss as if that was his right.

But a deal was a deal.

And instead of doing any of the above, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. At that moment, all her anger and resentment fell away and she was finally at peace.

* * *

A tiny spot of light flickered in the oppressive darkness.

It grew bigger and bigger and bigger still until it turned into a small window. As the wind whistled behind the wall, branches covered the window, throwing dancing shadows across the room.

William stared at the inky wall, fingers clawing at the damp stones. His shoulders burned, his knees buckling under the weight upon them.

“Hurry, Neville,” William whispered urgently as his friend scrambled through the window above.

“I can’t reach!” Neville cried, though somehow, he was suddenly on the other side. “Now you, come on!”

William backed up, then sprinted at the wall, leaping up to grab the windowsill. He scrambled for purchase, ribs scraping the rough stone.

“Hold on!” Neville cried, grasping William’s wrists as he tried to squeeze through the narrow window, perilously high on the wall.

William was drained, using his last dregs of strength to scale the sheer surface. Now his grip faltered, slippery with sweat.

Neville clutched his forearms desperately, trying to haul him up, but the boy was too small, too frail.

William’s legs kicked in the air as he struggled for a foothold. Suddenly a viselike hand seized his ankle.

William sat up in bed, his breaths shallow, covered in cold sweat. He immediately glanced up at the reassuring window by his bed. Only it wasn’t reassuring this time. This time it was the reason for the nightmare.

He scrubbed his face with his hand, trying to regulate his breathing.

“William?”

He turned sharply at the gentle call of his name. Victoria reared back at his violent reaction before raising her hands in a calming gesture. “You had a nightmare,” she said, her voice hoarse from sleep.

William nodded and let out a deep breath. “I suppose I did.”

They both sat in silence for the next few moments, until William lay back down. Victoria still sat by his side, her features thoughtful. “Who is Neville?” she finally asked.

He didn’t realize he’d screamed his name out loud.

William shrugged. “A friend.”