Asher's POV
I took a quick moment to sort through my nightmare and the story I'd heard repeatedly about the events from that night 18 years ago.
The events I remembered, and the scenes in my dreams didn't add up.
Why had my father's voice sounded angry and sad in my dream? I didn't know why he would be so sad about Queen Krisha's death. It wasn't like they were particularly close.
At least, not that I remembered.
He hadn't even been there, had he? He'd been fighting off rogues and hunting down the assassins.
Well, that was what the history books said.
What was happening to me?
Why was I having these dreams?
Why couldn't I see or hear the assassin's face or voice?
It was like he was a presence beside me in my dream, dragging me along, but I couldn't remember if I hadn't been near the king and queen that night.
I groaned and rubbed my temples.
‘Come on, Asher, this isn’t worth you obsessing over! Pull yourself together, man. You can figure it out.’