Night Terror (Anactoria)

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

Azhani was freezing. Of all the things she could - should - be feeling, that was the only one. She must have been at least a good fifty feet, if not more, up - more than necessary to constitute a fatal fall. Yet, she wasn't scared. She was taught to feel no fear. He hands ached from climbing for so long, tring to find just the right stones to take hold of as she scaled the castle. Yet, she didn't slow down. She was taught to feel no pain.

As a Ha'zhansin, she had been trained for moments just as these. Given, this was the first time she had ever snuck into a princess’s room, but the task was the culmination of her life’s work nonetheless. Part of her asked herself “Why are you doing this?” but she knew why. Z’hakaat – no, she did not have the best reputation in the world. Her presence in Terre de Conte was cause for alarm in itself, let alone attempting to see the princess. She couldn’t take the risk of not being able to speak to Princess Anactoria. Even their conversation being delayed, or worse, someone speaking to the princess about her first, was unacceptable.

Azhani shivered as a cool breeze blew by, but she didn't stop. She wasn't dressed for this kind of weather at all, but she kept her mind off of it by thinking about the princess. This would be her first time seeing her. She still had no idea why her father had sent her to Terred de Conte, but he said she'd know when she got there. Maybe the princess was the key. What door that key was to open, she was still unsure, but she had every intention of finding out.

The window wasn't very far away. Before Azhani knew it, she was taking hold of the ledge and pulling herself silently into the princess's room. Part of her training had been in the art of passing time. Keeping one's mind off their objective was a good strategy. As Azhani exhaled deeply, she could see her breath. She hated cold weather, though little did people know, as hot as it was during the day, nights in the desert were far colder than this. She would survive. She approached the princess's bed slowly. She was turned on her side, making it impossible to see her face, but Azhani was tense. She moved slowly and deliberately, wary of any traps or sudden changes in the environment. She had learned, no matter who or where it was, always be ready for an attack.

Azhani put her hand on the handle of her knife, but didn't draw it. She slowly moved around the bed so she could get a look at the princess's face. She'd heard rumors of her beauty, of course, but she wanted to see for herself. Time seemed to be literally slowing down as Azhani drew closer and closer to the other side of the bed. Her fingers closed around her dagger, awaiting some abrupt interruption and a desperate fight to escape. But neither came. All that awaited Azhani was the single most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. Her skin, so pale, was perfect and unblemished. She moved closer. Those lips, the epitome of kissable. Azhani could understand why anyone would compete for this woman's hand in marriage. That was the thought before she quickly straddled her, covered the girl's mouth with one hand and holding her knife to her throat with the other. "Don't scream," she commanded quietly. "You make a sound, and I'll kill you."

[Anactoria IV]

The annoying thing about precognitive dreams is that they are so seldom useful.

As Anactoria's room, which was supposed to be under double security since she ran way, was easily entered, the mind of the sleeping princess was some unknown distance in the future. She was standing in the Hall of Heroes before her namesake, Anactoria I, garbed in what had to be the most beautiful wedding dress she had ever seen. Both her hands joined with those of her bride-to-be. Her queen. Guests were seated in hastily constructed , but exquisite pews, as many as the great hall could admit, and still more townsfolk had taken up seats on the wall and the various statues.

Let them. It was their day as much as it was hers.

The priestess performing the ceremony was saying something about vows and love and forever, but Future Anactoria only had eyes for the woman before her. She looked up, and was lost in those lovely red eyes, and blushed when as her wife flashed her a smile, showing her fangs --

--No. the eyes were green and she had to look down to gaze on her blushing bride... which was much healthily color for her --

-- except she had always been healthy, with those violet eyes looking so nervous yet so happy at leaving her past behind --

-- an ironic past; that she would now share in the ruling an empire that once cast her out for what she was. Who knew tentacles could be so --

The face kept changing, confusing the sleeping princess, drawing her out of the dream and out of sleep. She fought against it, tried to hold the vision steady with her mind. But it slipped away from her. The Hall the, guests, even the priestess. All that was left was her bride... who's face had changed yet again.

"It would be a really bad idea for you to jerk when you wake up," her 'wife' said. Blue eyes that she did not recognize shone with laughter from a tan face she had never seen before. The woman flipped her long dark hair, turned, and was gone.

Anactoria woke up. The face still hovered over her.

The urge to jerk away was overpowering for a split second, but she had been having dreams like this long enough to know when to listen. She she froze, not even daring to breathe. A heartbeat later she felt the knife at her throat. The threat was given, and the princess almost nodded... them remembered the knife was there.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and fear warred with confusion. Who was this woman? How did she get in here? What was she panning on doing to her? Why did I dream about her face before ever seeing her?

"Mm-hm," Anactoria squeaked, giving her word that she would not scream as best as she could, considering her mouth was covered by a strong hand that tasted vague like stone, and a knife at her throat. She thought briefly of her own daggers, safely locked away in the chest at the foot of the bed. Might as well been on the moon.

And through all this Anactoria was had not dared yet take a breath, which was turning her face a rather fetching shade of red at the moment.

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

Azhani sighed in relief mentally, but was skilled enough to keep her composure physically. She was glad to see that Princess Anactoria's kindness extended to those who took her hostage.

Though her mind relaxed, her body could not. Azhani couldn't take the risk of appearinc insincere, but... She was. She had no intention of harming the princess. Worst case scenario, when she removed her hand, Anactoria would call the guards and Azhani would have to improvise an exit the way she entered. She certainly couldn't injur the Anactoria. The last thing she needed was an international incident on her hands. Of all the possible reasons she had for coming to Terre de Conte, she highly doubted that one was starting a war.

Azhani sighed, but kept a firm hold over Anactoria's mouth and the knife in her hand. "Now, I apologize for threatening you, but I assure you, I will not harm you." Because nothing said "I won't hurt you" like a knife to the throat.

There was a pause before Azhani said anything else. It was a difficult thing - weighing her options. In truth, she had only thought things out to the point of entering Anactoria's room. While others may have been taught to devise detailed plans and strategies, Azhani had always been trained to plan for the moment. Think one step ahead, but always be prepared for a setback and adjust as needed.

The poor girl. Her face was growing redder by the second. Without Azhani doing anything at all, the young princess was going to suffocate herself. "I'm going to take away my knife," she said quietly. Her hands eased ever so slightly, trying to release some of the pressure on the girl. "Princess, I give you my word, you will be fine, but you need to stay calm." She emphasized the last phrase, speaking the words slowly, accentuating each one.

Azhani's approach to everything was assuming that she had a 50/50 chance of success. Even when things looked completely out of her favor, there was still a chance that something miraculous would happen and turn the tide. Azhani was looking for a miracle here. She could only be so persuasive without a knife. Slowly, she pulled her knife away from Anactoria's throat and sheathed it behind her waist.

For better or worse, Azhani finally relaxed. She removed her hand from Anactoria's mouth and, in an act of surprising familiarity, stroked her cheek. Her gloves were still cold from the climb up, but the gesture itself was soft and warm nonetheless. Despite the situation, Azhani chuckled and offered the princess a small smile. "You can breathe now, princess."

"I'm sorry," she began, as she lowered her hood. She turned the girl's head this way and that, inspected her neck. It was as if she wasn't a person, but rather, a doll being manipulated whatever way Azhani saw fit. "Are you hurt anywhere? Did I hold my hand too hard over your mouth? Was my knife too close to your throat?" Azhani couldn't exactly say she regretted her course of action, but that didn't mean she was too fond of the idea of harming such a powerful, beautiful young woman. At least, without being given a reason to.

"I suppose I should introduce myself," she muttered, though whether to herself or to Anactoria she wasn't clear on. Climbing off of the princess, she stood beside the bed and bowed her head. "My name is Fa'raazihn Azhani, princess of Z'hakaat. I would have liked for us to meet under more pleasant circumstances, but I was afraid that would not happen, so I had to improvise this."

[Anactoria IV]

Aside from the knife at her neck and the hand over her mouth (and her own racing pulse), the thing that Anactoria noticed most was the weight of the other woman. She wasn't heavy per se, but the closeness of her presence communicated a sort of intimacy that made the imperial princess' skin crawl, and not in the good way, like it had been with Rhiannon. The utter nearness was somehow worse than the the threat.

A threat which was soon revoked, by both words and deeds. Anactoria eyes widened in confusion before narrowing in suspicion. She felt the other woman's hand on her cheek and turned her head sharply away, finally daring to gather her breath. Then came more questions, bizarre ones given the situation, followed by still more touching. Anactoria hands, balled into fists the crawling feeling intensifying until finally the woman's weight was off of her.

Anactoria wasted no time in sitting up in bed, back against her ornate head board, duvet slipping down her chest to pool in her lap. She scooted along the mattress until she was as far on the opposite side of the bed as she could be without actually getting off of it. But now matter how far away she retreated, the crawling feeling was still there, and she could feel herself begin to tremble. Reflexively, she gathered her duvet around her shoulders again, covering long purple sleeping chemise she had wore to bed. Abruptly, the shaking stopped, as did the sensation of crawling. And the princess figured out the cause. It was the feeling of vulnerability and exposure. She felt ill. Mostly, however she felt angry.

"I have met many a princess since my return," she said sharply -- but quietly. The threat on her life could be reinstated as easily as it had been rescinded, and there was still most of the bed, the lions share of her chambers, and the intruder herself between her and escape. If this brigand made the decision to end her life, it was unlikely she could run out or the guards could make it in time to save her. Anactoria made mental note to to sleep with her own daggers closer and more accessible in future. "None of them felt the need to accost me in the middle of the night in my private chambers to make my acquaintance. What makes you believe that you are so unique in this regard?"

Keep her talking Anactoria thought to herslef, "just until I can think of a way out of this...

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

Azhani was, for the most part, relieved. If there wasn't already trouble, that meant she was already making progress. She did, however, notice the princess's suspicious glare. Despite the circumstances, she was glad. She had hoped Anactoria wasn't as dull and dim as some of the other royals - or people in general - she'd run across. She could tell she was a fighter. Back home, that was an admirable trait.

Azhani raised her head as the question was imposed, presenting a rather curious expression on her face. "Why, the fact that I did it, of course." The question made no sense to her, but she was sure it did to Anactoria. It was only natural for Azhani to believe she was unique, as... Well, she was. As the princess had said, none had ever snuck into her room before.

However nice it was to think she had taken one of the girl's firsts, though, she had more pressing issues on her mind. Azhani took a seat on the edge of the bed, her back towards Anactoria. "You said I was the first to take this particular course of action. That's because none have shared my sense of urgency."

There was a pause. Azhani's body couldn't help but tense. She was defying everything she knew, every instinct in her body. It certainly wasn't easy or pleasurable, but she balled her fists and placed them in her lap in an attempt to steady herself. "If I wanted to harm you, princess, I would have, but I don't think that's why I'm here. As an assassin, I was taught to never show my back to a stranger. In my country, it is the greatest sign of trust and respect that you can show someone. In spite of my actions, princess, I choose to trust that you're more curious over why I'm here than you feel anger that I am."

Azhani felt more cautious than she had when she'd first entered the room. She was giving Anactoria an escape. She made no attempt to turn back and watch her movements, nor did she keep her hands by her weapons. Despite every instinct screaming out to the contrary, she forced herself to relax. Her father had once told her something - words of advice that rang in her ear now: Give a man gold, and he will give you a pear. It meant that to receive anything, one had to first give something of equal value.

[Anactoria IV]

Anactoria lips tightened into a straight line as Azhani turned her back to her. She started look on her side of the bed for weapons almost at once, not sure when she would get another opportunity.

Her room was larger than some of her less affluent subjects entire homes, and until tonight she had been grateful for that. Now however, it made everything hopelessly out of reach. The lantern was on the side of the intruder's side of the bed. Her vanity, with any number of perfumes she could spray in her eyes and hair pins she could stab with, and and if all else failed, a stool she could swing around, was on the other side of her side of the room. All she had on this side that she could reach was the window... which didn't help anyone.

Her eyes darted to her still-locked door, then to her open window. Wait... that simply was not possible... they were much to high up...

Anactoria's eyes snapped back to Azhani when she mentioned her... occupation, as it were. "An... assassin?" she blurted out, her alarm breaking through her decorum. She reined it back in, and tried to rack her brain. This wasn't adding up...

"An assassin," she repeated, mostly to herself. "Who managed to not only make it past the City Watch and my own palace guard, but inside the Inner Keep of Sapphis Castle and evidentialy scale over fifty feet into the personal chambers of the imperial Princess... only to not kill her?"

Having made her mind up, Anactoria slid from the bed to stand beside it, the hem of her sleeping chemise falling her her knees. There was no way she was doing this in bed like some sort of invalid or doe-eyed victim. "It is as you say, if you wanted to harm me or abduct me, you would have done so already and none would have been the wiser. I have to conclude your need to see me was great indeed," Anactoria conceded, her tone formal, as though she was holding court. "And while may anger is still considerable, you have received your wish that it be outweighed by my curiosity."

She drew herslef to her full height, all five feet, three inches of it. "I promise to hear you out, Princess Azhani. "Tell me of this apparently urgent business."

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

"Yes, an assassin," she retorted. Azhani steadied herself with her hands placed behind her while she leaned back. She had never felt the slightest bit uneasy about her position. From the time she was old enough to understand speech, she had been told that she was a weapon of Z'hakaat. It had been engrained into her mind, thus she saw nothing wrong with it. As long as she acted under her father's orders, she believed she was working to benefit her kingdom. That was enough for her.

"If it's any consolation, I did almost fall. Twice." Azhani turned her head to face Anactoria. She truly was a sight to behold. Not just to see, but to hear as well. She spoke every bit as gracefully, but imposingly, as she looked. She wasn't particularly tall. She didn't look very muscular. Indeed, at first glance, she did look like just another frail princess who wouldn't know the first thing about defending herself; yet, in the face of an assassin (albeit one who was admittedly not after her life), this girl carried herself with unwavering confidence and composure. Azhani admired that.

The desert princes turned her body and bowed her head. "I think you, Princess Anactoria." She stood. Despite the circumstances, she believed there was no reason to spare the young woman before her any courtesy. "It's as you said. I snuck into your room, as I would have to kill you under different circumstances, but I didn't. And I must admit, princess, I'm every bit as perplexed as you are. You see, my father, the king, sent me here without clear direction. I'm afraid I honestly don't know whether I should kill you or try to marry you." She paused, sighing and shaking her head. "No, I'm sure I'm not here to harm you."

Azhani locked eyes with Anactoria. "Princess, what I'm saying is that I'm lost." The tanned woman knelt and bowed her head. "All my father has ever done is try to help our country, whether it be at the expense of himself, his family, or the reputation of the kingdom itself. But I lack his knowledge and experience. Despite what others may say, my people are struggling just to stay alive. Slowly, we are being cut off from the rest of the world; and though I may not be able to sit on the throne and make the decisions that will decide my kingdom's fate, what I can do is humbly ask you to help me help them."

[Anactoria IV]

It was silent in the room as Anactoria considered Azhani's words. A small honest part of her had to admit -- grudgingly -- that there was something... inherently romantic in the woman's desperate plea, in her willingness to go to any length for the sake of her kingdom. Anactoria understood that. It was even admirable.

The woman was still an assassin, though. Just because she had deiced not to kill her, did not mean she had not killed at all. Tonight could have just as easily gone the other way. Would, if she had thought it would help her kingdom somehow.

Cautiously, Anactoria approached the kneeling woman, moving almost silently in her bare feet. "I am uncertain how I could help you," she said, picking every word with careful deliberation. "What advice I could give, princess to princess, would be useless for a land that did not resemble Terre de Conte. I will not insult by offering for anything so banal as monetary aid; if that was all you needed, we would have meet the next time my parents held court, as there would be no need for so extream a step as this."

She swallowed, afraid she was about to step in it in a large way. A single, soft hand made its way to Azhani's cheek then, her chin and she nudged the bowed head up to look at her. "Of course, were we to marry, our lands would be joined. Your people would be our people, and they would have all the economic, and if needed, military might of the Empire with which to being to turn their fortunes around."

She allowed her hand to fall away. "But you must expect you are not the first princess to come to me with such a background. I cannot help everyone. The Empire is not that strong. I am not that strong. That said, your honesty, and the length you were willing to go, have moved me. I do want to help you help your people. But I am at a loss as to how to do it."

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

A storm of emotions brewed within Azhani. On one hand, she felt sickeningly vulnerable. Despite her less-than-honest work, she was a proud princess. Begging another person for help, especially as sincerely as she was, was an insult not only to her pride, but to the years of instruction she had been given to never lower her guard to anyone short of her own family.

On the other hand, this was no common peasant she was kneeling to. This was a royal princess - one who could actually possibly help her. Her obligation to - no, it was a sheer altruistic love for her kingdom came above all else. She would disregard any and everything if it were in the pursuit of benefitting Z'hakaat. At least, that was what she told herself as she kept her hand close enough to draw her knife at a moment's notice.

Azhani visibly flinched as she felt the hand against her cheek, fighting the reflex to lash out at an unseen force that could easily be perceived as a threat. She, however, relaxed again as she looked up at the princess. Anactoria's words shook Azhani deeper than she would ever let on. Was she really offering her the possibility of marriage? Azhani, of all people - or women, as the case was? Of course, she had mentioned it herself...but...

Azhani couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed as the gentle hand fell away. With a small smirk, she stood slowly. "Princess, were you just flirting with me?" She paused for a moment before shaking her head. "I'm...afraid I didn't give much thought to this plan of action. You see, I'm..." Azhani leaned againse the nearest wall and sighed. She turned her attention to the ceiling. "I'm just as lost as you are, princess. I'm not entirely sure what it is that my father wants." She flashed a small smile as she lowered her gaze to lock eyes with Anactoria. "I must say, though, the thought of marrying you isn't entirely unappealing to me." Sardonically, her smile grew as she once again averted her eyes. "But tell me, what would a white lily such as yourself want with a desert cactus like me?"

[Anactoria IV]

There was a darkening of Anactoria cheeks, a half formed thought flowed through her mind on just what she might want from a desert cactus. Especially one so tall in stature, exotic in looks, and capable in body. But the thought was mentally crumpled up and discarded before it formed into an actual picture, and the imperial princess maintained her composure.

"Ladies do not flirt," she replied coyly. "They court. It maybe in the course said courtship, the prospect of marrying me may go up in your mind from merely appealing to actaully desired. And it might be that, once I learn more about you than your obvious skill, undeniable beauty, and suspect moral code, that I might feel likewise. I do not know you yet, Princess Azhani. But I would like to."

She thought of her dream, and the hint of a smile touched her lips. "After all, anything is possible."

Anactoria covered her mouth with her hand then, stiffing a yawn. "Now, it is late I have had a long day, and you have just scaled 50 feet of sheer stone wall. I have trusted you not to kill me so far. If I invite you to stay the night, might I trust you to keep those same hands to yourself?"

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

Anactoria's blushing did not go unnoticed by Azhani's keen eyes. The radiant windows to the desert princess's soul focused intensely on the other girl's rather cute expression. Azhani needed only a moment to consider it. There could be several benefits to her pining for the princess's hand - some even that she could not yet think of. After all, she did enjoy competitions, and as aforementioned by Anactoria herself, it could benefit her kingdom. She couldn't help but consider the personal benefits as well...

Azhani returned the small smile. "I thank you for the compliment, princess. The rumors of your own beauty don't do you justice." Her eyes, vibrantly accentuated in the darkness, locked onto Anactoria. "I would very much like to get to know you better as well."

Azhani bowed. "Your hospitality is greatly appreciated, Princess Anactoria. You have my word, you'll not find these hands upon your body -" she lifted her head to face Anactoria "- until such a time that you ask me otherwise." She smiled slightly and stood straight again. It seemed that everything had worked out in Azhani's favor. It was a perk of forsaking plans and leaving things to providence. She could now wait until morning and slip out unnoticed by guards or even the princess herself.

[Anactoria IV]

At Azhani's careful word choice, Anactoria could not help but smile, a reaction that surprised her. Was it not ten minutes past when those same hands were stifling a potential cry for help and held a dagger to her throat? How could be sure this wasn't some ruse to play on her sense of romance. The desperate beauty, throwing herself on the mercy of the one person who could help her, and willing to do anything to secure that support.

Anactoria arched an eyebrow and stole a surreptitious glance at Azhani. If that is her game, she thought to herslef, curse her for doing it so well. It is most certainly working...

"Now that we have that matter settled..." she added, rushing her words a bit to make up for the silence that has gone a bit too long. She took a deep breath to calm herslef, but I soon dissolved into another yawn. "Lack of sleep has made me overly trusting I fear," she mumbled to herself. She headed back to her bed, a four poster large enough for three or four of her, and climbed in before looking back over at Azhani. In for a copper, in for a gold, she thought. "Are you coming, Princess Azhani?" she asked as casually as she could, with her cheeks burning as she patted the mattress beside her. "Of course you are welcome to sleep at my vanity, or desk, or the arm chair, or the floor, but I cannot vouch for their comfort. You've already been in my bed once before far less benign reasons; it seems silly to bar you from it now when sleep is the goal. You need not worry about violating your oath; there more than enough room for both of us to lay without ever touching."

With a slight blink of surprise, Anactoria realized she was babbling, of all things, and decided now would be a good time to be quiet.

[Fa'raazhin Azhani]

Azhani was quite pleased to see Anactoria's smile. While it was wickedly attractive trait in itself, a part of her hoped that the petite princess wasn't entirely as innocent as she seemed. She was amusing, to say the least - this young woman who looked no more than a young girl, surrounded by beautiful women competing for her affections. That's what it all boiled down to for Azhani.

A competition.

She only wanted to win for the sake of winning and, of course, to help her kingdom. But as she caught Anactoria spying her, she gave her a sultry glance herself. Azhani was no fool. There was no enticing one to fall in love with you without the danger of being enticed yourself. If that were to happen... Her mind wandered again to the heavily weighted question: What had her father sent her to Terre de Conte for?

Azhani's attention instantly snapped back to Anactoria as she continued talking. She couldn't help but smile as she offered to share her bed. To say it was tempting would be an understatement. Unabashed thoughts of what she could do to the innocent beauty roamed through Azhani's mind - caressing her, taking in her scent, whispering sweet words to her in her sleep so she would dream of them. They were pleasant thoughts indeed, but Azhani had more self control than that. "You have a rather interesting way of thinking about things, princess," she said as she removed her scarf and left it by the vanity. She began removing her boots as well, then moved to lay at the edge of the bed. She turned her head to Anactoria and smiled. "This is now twice I've been in your bed, princess. You do still have a reputation to uphold, don't you?" She chuckled and turned her back to the girl. "Goodnight, princess."

[Anactoria IV]

In the morning, several witty replies would occur to Anactoria. I will not tell anyone if you do not was one of them. Why? Are you planning on doing something to impeach my reputation? was another. Her favorite, and the one she would really wish she had used would be, Perhaps it is time for that reputation to change. Yes. That would have thrown the exotic beauty off her game, of that she was certain.

Or rather, as certain as she could be. She would never know for sure, for at the moment when any of those replies would have served quite well, Anactoria found herself completely at a loss for words. Old Patrica Tallins, her speech and oration tutor, was surely rising from her grave this very moment just so she could rap her knuckles with a ruler. Was the old Ice Queen buried with her ruler? It would not have surprised Anactoria one bit.

And while she was busy thinking of an old woman now four years gone, Azhani was saying goodnight, and the moment passed. "Goodnight," she rejoined softly before slipping back under her blankets and rolling to her side, facing away from Azhani. Given all the excitement of the last few minutes, sleep came very quickly.

Luckily for Azhani, it turned out that the imperial princess was a very light snorer; sounding as though she were merely taking a deeper breath than some of rolling thunder sounds some people could make. Unfortunately for the visiting princess, it turned out Anactoria was a very restless sleeper. The bed was large enough that she wasn't kicking or rolling into Azhani every few minutes, but the erratic movement carried through the mattress quite well. This continued, off and on, for about an hour. During this time Anactoria had managed to kick off her blankets and the hem her chemise had ridden up to the level of her hips. One shoulder strap had also manged to slide off her shoulder to her upper arm.

Still quite asleep, she rolled once more running smack into Azhani's back. One arms snaked across the woman's waist at once, holding tightly for a second before relaxing. Her slight figure soon fits itself against the nature curve of Azhani's backside, and with a content sigh, Anactoria settled down and was quite still, her breath even and deep.

She was dreaming again, and it was hard to tell of this was one of her prophetic dreams or not. She was much, much older, as was Azhani. The other woman was down about something, and Anacotia was trying to cheer her up. "You'll always be my Ha'zhansin," dream-her was saying.

"...my Ha'zhansin... " mumbled the sleeping princess. She pressed herself closer still to Azhani, and spoke no more.