“I see,” Crow mused when Penelope told him how to handle the panic that came with his nightmares in the morning. He supposed he could see how a breathing exercise would work to calm him down—it had always helped him focus in the past—but it sounded much easier said than done. Every time he’d woken up lately, he had been too consumed by his dreams to even recognize where he was or who was with him. He wasn’t sure how he would be able to be self-aware enough to control his breathing during such an episode.

[i]It’s still better than nothing,[/i] he reasoned, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his lip. Learning to control his breathing in the middle of a panic attack was probably going to be difficult, but if the trick would work to stop the trauma, then it was worth trying.

When Penelope took his hand, Crow met her gaze again, drawn from his thoughts. Her assurance brought a smile to his lips. While he still didn’t want her to worry about him every morning, he supposed there was another part of him that was relieved to know she would be there when the nightmare struck again. It felt good to know that he wouldn’t be alone. “I know you will,” he said softly, leaning in to meet her lips in a brief yet tender kiss. “Thanks, love. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Letting out a long yawn of his own, the viceroy turned and made his way to his bedchamber. While the thought of facing the nightmare again was still unnerving to him, he felt less apprehensive than usual about getting some sleep now that it seemed there might really be a solution for his dreams on the horizon. He hoped the methods Penelope had found would work, so he could move on from this unpleasant phase of his life and get back to some kind of normalcy.

Feeling slightly more optimistic than usual, it didn’t take long for him to fall into a light sleep once he finished settling down for the night in his room.

--

The following morning wasn’t any easier for Crow, despite the hope he’d gained the night before. As always, he woke up hysteric, frightened into an unresponsive state by the vividness of his dream. He could still see the corpses, the knights, and even Jaxon’s twisted smirk. All memory of his conversation with Penelope went forgotten as he suddenly realized he could smell the sharp odor of blood. The smell caused his eyes to widen as he hurriedly checked himself over to find out where he was injured.

Of course, there was no sign of a wound anywhere on his body, and he squeezed his eyes shut, convinced he was going mad. In the back of his head, he knew he was in the castle, but it was hard to focus on that fact when everything else felt just as real. He clutched his head in his hands, hoping that one of the overlapping realities would go away soon, so he could at least protect himself if he really was in danger.