The rest of her day had gone by with too much activity for Navia to manage to find a way down to the dungeons. It was always there in her mind; her soul seemed to demand she be by Théadan’s side until he was rightfully released and allowed to walk among the free. It appeared everyone in the world required her attention however. Yousef’s wife asked Navia to accompany her and baby Yousef for a walk in the gardens, then Kazim’s wife asked them both to help with arrangements for some celebration they wanted to throw for Kazim in the coming weeks. While Navia had been content to spend time with Ruvi and Haide, she did not quite understand why they both seemed so intent on having her opinions on matters regarding the celebration. They constantly asked what she preferred, then always chose her decisions as final without even consulting each other.<br/><br/>At one point Haide and Ruvi had been poring over a guest list while Navia entertained the baby. Holding the infant and watching the inquisitive way he stared up at her had tugged at Navia’s heart, but it had reminded her of the fact that in only a matter of months, she would be looking down at her own child. That thought had instantly brought Théadan up in her mind as well, and so as soon as the two other women had been satisfied with their planning, Navia had excused herself. She’d been pretty confident she’d be able to make it down to the dungeons again when Yousef had caught her outside them once more. They’d argued, she’d stalked off, and she had run right into a pair of aged noblewomen who had asked her to tour the gardens with them. She’d ended up walking the same gardens as earlier in the day, unable to tell the elder women no. By the time evening came and she’d shared a meal with her family, Navia had been exhausted and unable to muster the energy to try to break into the dungeons again.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>The dream returned. That awful, horrendous dream where the child had the dull blue eyes of the man she had killed. The same dream that had ended with her eyes on the body of her lover and the life being choked from her as a bloody Argyle glowered down at her. She’d woken up in a sweat, in tears, and had rolled over to remind herself Théadan was okay, that he was there by her side and would comfort her…except he was not. It had hit her harder than ever that Théadan was not there to help her and Navia had laid in bed weeping over his absence before she’d finally risen and reached for her robe. She had to see him. She had to know he was all right. The nightgown she wore was thin and made of off-white satin, but it was masked by the deep blue robe of the same material that she pulled on. After slipping into some<i>khussas </i>and convincing the guard outside her door she just needed a drink of water, Navia had hurried down to the first floor so she could try to figure out a way to get through the door leading to the dungeons.<br/><br/>The palace was quiet, telling her it was very late into the night. The large sconces on the walls lit her way however, and Navia moved through the familiar halls with a sense of dread that still lingered from her nightmare. By the time she reached the hallway she needed to walk down to reach the dungeons, she felt frazzled and nervous from being so alone. All she wanted was Théadan; all she needed were his arms around her and his soothing voice in her ear. The door leading to the kitchens opened ahead of her though, and as soon as Yousef stepped out, Navia knew she was not going to reach Théadan and the dejection was clear on her face.<br/><br/>He was dressed similarly to her, in pajama pants and to make him more presentable in case he ran into someone so late at night, and had a bowl in hand. He stopped after stepping through the door, surprised to see Navia walking toward him. It was clear she was upset, he could see it both on her face and in the tense way she walked, and concern rushed through him, “Navia, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you in bed?”<br/><br/>She considered begging Yousef to let her see Théadan, but figured it would not happen after how angrily he had threatened to send her lover away, so she instead shrugged and answered her brother in a small voice, “I had a nightmare and I…well, I couldn’t go back to sleep.” And she likely wouldn’t sleep again that night, as upset as she was and as badly as she wanted Théadan to make it better for her. Yousef wouldn’t want to hear that though, and instead Navia reached up to wipe at her tear-streaked face before saying brokenly, “I didn’t want to be alone.”<br/><br/>Her brother stepped forward and pulled her into a tight one-armed hug, his chin resting atop her head while she fought back a harsh sob. “Come sit and tell me about it,” Yousef suggested quietly, wanting to ease his sister’s pain. It was not often in life he had seen a tearful Navia. The dream had to have been particularly awful. “You will feel better and it might help you go back to sleep.” He felt her nod against his shoulder and so Yousef guided Navia over to one of the comfy sofas that had been placed in the hallway nearby in case someone wanted a spot to rest and enjoy all the artistry of the royal palace. Everywhere one looked, there was some form of art, be it in the paintings that were displayed on the walls, the ornate rugs uniformly laid out on the white marble floors, or the decadent tilework and architecture of the palace walls and windows themselves.<br/><br/>“I’ve had this dream a few times since I left Mes’Mo’Tan,” Navia explained once they’d sat and she composed herself enough to speak, “I’m always walking through the markets here and I can see you and the rest of the family in the distance, trying to get me to join you. Then it used to be that Théadan would come along and take my hand and I would see…” Navia hesitated, knowing the child in her dream that she saw was supposed to be her own, but she was not ready to share that with Yousef yet, “I would see someone with eyes like Théadan’s in the crowd, but now they have Argyle’s eyes…and now in my dream, it’s not Théadan who reaches for me, it’s Argyle and he’s killed Théadan.” Remembering how real it felt, how gut-wrenchingly real, tears formed in her eyes and Navia reached up to touch her throat, where Argyle’s hands had taken root to end her life, “And then he tries to kill me and all I can see is Théadan’s body on the floor behind him…and…and then I wake up.”<br/><br/>Yousef waited quietly for Navia to finish, but his mind was racing with thoughts on such a dream. How had this Mes’Mo’Tanian gotten so far under Navia’s skin? How could he be so ingrained in her that she could be this upset over the possibility of his death in a dream? But most of all, it was clear his sister was tortured by the death of the Mes’Mo’Tanian crown prince, causing him to say to her quietly, “You really did kill him…” And how Yousef hated that for her, knowing how hard it was to take a life and how it weighed on the soul. He did not want that for his little sister, and yet when Navia nodded solemnly, he could tell that was exactly what she was dealing with. Sighing, shaking his head, Yousef took a bite of the cut up fruit he had pilfered from the kitchens, “You are in too deep with this man, Navia. Look at the heartache he has caused you. Think of all the pain he has caused our family by taking you and what he has done to our country. Do you realize how much of a betrayal it is to your family to stay by this man’s side?”