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I gripped his hand hard, blinking rapidly to try to clear my thoughts, but there was nothing I could do to stop the tears spilling down my cheeks.
I was so, so close to just blurting out that single simple word, yes. My heart said yes, my mind said yes, but I also felt like I was barreling full speed into a blizzard without thinking. I had made so many mistakes, I had taken so many risks, that I’d lost the stomach for it.
“Let me… please just let me think about it,” I said. “Let me have some time.”
He looked so hurt and wounded that it took my breath away, and nearly made me change my mind at once. All these emotions, all these surprises, it was too much for me and I felt myself growing weak and clammy. I tottered slightly backwards and Vasile stood up to support me.
“Sit. Sit down. Are you okay? Please don’t fucking tell me you’re going to pass out again.”
“No,” I said. “No, no. Just… I’m just so weak.” I lowered myself down cautiously onto the chair where I had been sitting.
Vasile looked at me with complete focus and concern. “I’ll go to the kitchens and get you something to eat. You stay here. Don’t move. Understood?”
I nearly groaned with a sudden rush of unexpected desire. That was the tone he’d used with me in the bedroom, when he ordered me, commanded me. Ruled me and made me obey.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Understood.”
He leaned down and kissed my cheek. It felt so good to have him close again; it felt so right. I had missed him so, so much. But before I could reach out to embrace him, he stepped away, leaving the room with heavy, authoritative footfalls.
And there I sat by the fire, with my whirling thoughts.* * *“Valeria?”
A voice I half-recognized made me turn in my chair to face the door. It was Natasha, looking stronger now than the last time I’d seen her, when she was just a shadow of herself. So thin, so gaunt, so pale.
“You’re here!” I said, reaching out for her. “I hoped you would be! I’d heard they’d taken you in.”
“Yes. I came upon Vasile in the hallway, he said you were here. All of them…and Daniel,” Natasha said. “He’s been… very kind to me.”
I had expected her to rush to me, to take me in her arms like we had so many times before, but she stayed back and eyed me suspiciously. She reminded me of a half-feral cat, untrusting and skittish. But it was just so good to see her, my oldest friend
“The family took me in. I’ve been helping Mrs. Greengallow.” She seemed embarrassed, smiling to herself as she added, “It’s a little like having my mother back. Not that anyone could replace her, but I think she’d like me to be happy helping out around here.”
“That’s so good to hear, Natasha. I’m glad. Truly.”
She stopped and stared at me, nodding a little, but all the time fussing with the hem of her sleeve, picking at the threads, rubbing the fabric again and again.
“Is it okay here? Are they treating you well?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” she said. “Lovely. All the food I want, all the books I can read. A big bed, running water. Heaven, really,” she said, with a flat and empty voice. Then she met my eyes, and there were tears in hers. “Valeria, I’m so sorry for what happened. I’m so sorry that I—oh, God, how can I go on, knowing that I was a part of that?”
What in the world was happening here? She had once been the most lively, happy, joyful person—she’d had a laugh so infectious that even our sternest teachers couldn’t help but catch a smile from her. And still, I was sure I could see a little of that in her, somewhere, someplace.
“Natasha, it’s alright.” I gestured to the chair beside me. “Come on. Sit with me. Talk to me.”
Natasha shook her head. “No, I can’t. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you, or this place, or Daniel or anything. What I deserve is death, or prison. I’ve been such a—”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Natasha, none of this is your fault. I don’t forgive you because there’s nothing to forgive. You’re my friend, I love you, and that’s all there is to it.” I rushed to her then, pulling her into my embrace.
As soon as my arms closed around her, she melted into tears and sobs. This, at least, was her, truly her. No more artifice, no more anger. Just my lovely friend, having the hardest of times.
She confessed how it all started. An invitation to a secret lavish party. Petre took to her, plying her with words and finally, enticing her to try his special ‘tea’. She was so lonely, lost from her parents’ deaths, she was an easy target. Our engagement was recently secured and he wanted someone to watch me.
