Dream a little, Dream of me

My best laid plan Your sleight of hand

Now in present time, Lilliana was fighting herself, her mind to be exact. She stared at the floor trying to live through the memories. The name?

What was his name? 

She never learned it. But she knew. She knew. 

But did she know?

"Lilliana?"

She looked up.

"Yeah?"

"Someone's outside. Should I send them in?"

"Who?"

"They say they know you?"

"Sure."

She was drinking water when the person walked in.

The woman walked in. Her black hair tied in a bun, wrinkles around her eyes. Blue eyes.

"Do I know you?" The question was clear.

"Yes." Her voice was soft and kind.

"I don't recognize you." She murmured

"Of course you don't. It's been ages since you saw me." 

"Uh..I..I really don't think I know you." 

"It's fine child. Just rest. And take this." She extended an envelope.

Lilliana sat up.

"Don't open it till you're ready." 

"Excuse me?"

"I know you're struggling. My vidim tebya, dochka. So first heal and then read."

She blinked.

Old Fae. The language was old fae.

She nodded.

The woman smiled and then left the room.

Tamlin stood by the door.

"You look like you know what she said."

"I don't." Her voice was shaky.

"Okay."

"Eat and then sleep."

She nodded. He left.

And she was left with her thoughts again.

Nicholas was outside. And she was scared surprisingly. She turned to face her bedside table and opened the drawer and shoved the envelope in. And then ignored the bowl of stew sitting on the desk and stared at the ceiling

My vidim Tebya, Dochka

We see you, daughter

She was from the winter court, her dialect was very familiar. The woman was definitely from the winter court. She could also be a spy from Kallias, but Kallias despite their dispute would have came himself and would have taken her back home. Back to the winter court, where she could forget this like a bad dream. It would have been a win. But she knew the woman was not from Kallias or Vivianne. 

She touched her stomach, the phantom emptiness was heart-aching.

She tried to hold the tears at bay. 

She swung her legs to the side and placed her feet on the wooden floor, it was cold. She ignored the sharp sting and slowly stood up, balancing her body and weight. She walked over to the vanity. Seeing herself in the mirror was painful, her face had once again reduced to bones and dull skin. All the bright color was lost to weeks of staying inside. Rage burned in her, hot and sharp. Her hands closed into a fist. She shuddered.