Page 31 of Betrothed

“Is it? Hmm. You must not have been much use to that monster,” Chastity said with a tense laugh. Then she cleared her throat. “But let’s not talk about that now. You don’t have to talk about this terrible time ever again. We will go back home, and you will marry my Errol, and all will be as it should be.”

Fawn said nothing. She rubbed her arms, thinking of the coat that had burned up in the fire. Of the walking stick he had made smooth for her. Of the meals he had made, and that sparkling glow worm cave, and the tender way he looked at her. Nobody had ever looked at Fawn like that before. She thought it only happened in stories.

Errol reappeared behind her, sliding a coat over her shoulders.

“Look at you,” Errol said, helping her arms into the coat like she was a toddler. “You’re frozen!”

“It’s not that cold,” Fawn said, watching the fire spring up and consume the log she had placed in the embers. “It’s the middle of spring.”

Errol and Chastity looked at her, surprised. Fawn wasn’t filling her role, she realized sourly.

“I mean, thank you,” she said, dropping her voice to that soft, forgiving tone she had used for so much of her life. “I’m sorry. These last few weeks were… so disorientating.”

“I’ll bet,” said Errol quietly. He sat down next to her, rubbing her arm.

Fawn frowned. Were they really trying to comfort her? They had barely comforted her after Renly died. They had just shown up and started fussing over the correct way to set up a tent while they sent Fawn out to collect kindling.

“You don’t have to talk about this ever again,” Errol said suddenly, mirroring what his mother had said before. “After the hunt is finished, we’ll all go home.”

Fawn looked over at him, shocked. “Hunt? What hunt?”

“Errol,” Chastity hissed.

Errol ignored her. He gave Fawn a baffled smile, as condescending as ever.

“Why, the hunt to kill your would-be husband,” Errol said. “We can’t just let him roam free, kidnapping innocent girls.”

Fawn stared at him. “What happened to ‘forget vengeance, Fawn’?”

Errol’s would-be soft smile flickered with annoyance. “Killing Renly was one thing. But despoiling my fiancé…”

Fawn barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, this wasn’t really about her. He would say it was about her, but it was actually about him and feeling like something had been taken from him.

As always, Errol mistook her expression for something else. He took her chin in his hand, and somehow Fawn felt more in danger with his regular mortal hand than a hand full of claws. She fought back the urge to dig her teeth into his palm.

“Don’t worry,” Errol said. “I will still marry you. We can pretend this mess never happened. But only after that thing is dead. It won’t be too hard. It’s so small and scarred, it’s barely a Skullstalker.”

With that, he released her and turned back to the fire, which was flaming merrily.

“A short adventure,” Errol said breezily. “Which you won’t have to see, of course. The men will handle all of it. And then we will return home. Back to where you are meant to be.” He nudged the crackling fire with a frown. “Fawn— I mean, Mother. Could you fetch us more kindling?”

“Of course,” Chastity said after a pause.

They didn’t look at her. But pointedly, as if both of them were remembering that this was usually her job. But she had been spoiled, and so, of course, she couldn’t do anything now. Not when she was still so delicate from whatever that beast had done to her.

Fawn sat there, her fury growing until she was fit to burst. She had escaped the Skullstalker’s clutches, as she always meant to. When a woman is captured by a monster, she flees. What else could she have done? And now she was back, and they would bring her home, and she would live out her life as the same small, demure, quiet woman who everyone thought she was.

Sometimes, Fawn even believed it. But these past few weeks, she had almost gotten a glimpse of some other woman. A woman who did not squash their fury but let it flow. A woman who enjoyed sex and chased her own desires and said what she thought. An impossible creature who did not get left behind on adventures.

“My love,” said Errol distractedly. “Stop making that face. You are safe now.”

Fawn turned to him, her hands shaking with how much she wanted to strike him. He didn’t want to cheer her up for her own sake; he wanted her to stop looking upset because it bothered him. Everything about their relationship, such as it was, revolved around him. For all the times that Zax made her feel like he was using her to fill a wife-shaped hole, he at least cared that she was happy. He asked after her interests, and gave her gifts, and tried to be something she liked. He had even let her go, in the end. It made Fawn wonder if he would have done the same if she had asked earlier. Could she have avoided this whole mess if she had asked him on that first night, lying in the forest with a sprained ankle? She would be halfway back home already. She would never know how it felt to be cradled in his arms, or asked about her childhood, or be gifted a rock that looked like her freckles.

Fawn rubbed her freckled cheeks. They were wet.

“Oh, come now,” Errol scoffed. “Don’t cry. You’re safe, I promise you. We’ll be home soon. You only need to wait a few days until we find him again, and then we can leave.”

Fawn sniffed, wiping away her furious tears. She wanted to claw his eyes out. She wanted to rip his throat out with her teeth, to scream that she wouldn’t marry him, wouldn’t follow him, would rather watch Zax tear him to shreds than be his wife. Errol didn’t even know her. Fawn barely knew herself, but there had been a few moments where she had glimpsed the woman she could be, and she wanted…