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The words were inadequate for everything he had already done for her. For everything he still planned to do. So instead of saying the words, she hobbled back up the stairs and entered her room, closing the door behind her. A meager space stared back at her, bare of belongings except for a few dresses in the armoire and several pairs of shoes. She’d burned all of her dresses from when she’d been queen. She’d burned everything reminding her of him.
Very little had remained.
She opened the armoire and sifted through her clothing.
Only to freeze.
Along with her plain, normal attire, several new dresses hung next to the others. She ran her fingers over the soft red fabric with gold trim. She admired the dark green velvet of a heavier frock with a square neckline and a flattering waist. But the third dress she pulled out of the armoire and held it against herself, turning in a slow circle to watch the light blue, filmy fabric move like water in a downhill stream. The light fabric rippled and swayed, catching the light in a breathtaking shimmer.
She loved it.
She hated it.
Despite her yearning to wear it, she placed it back. It was too beautiful for the permanent black stain on her soul. She would feel like a fraud wearing it.
Even on her wedding day.
Not wanting Joel’s thoughtful, precious gifts to go to waste, she dressed in the green gown and cinched it at the waist with a gold belt. And then she turned to face the mirror.
Her spirits deflated when she stared back at a stranger. Limp blonde hair. Bruised face. Small, sickly frame. The dress slipped around her shoulders, not finding enough grip against her bony body. A darkness, an emptiness lay within her blue eyes. Her cheekbones stood out, gaunt and hollow. Her lips remained motionless, not having formed a smile in a very long time.
“I can’t do this,” she breathed. “Not to him.”
Dizziness clutched her head, her surroundings spinning and tilting sickeningly until black shadows seeped into her vision. Bursts of white stars flickered in and out of focus, and when she tipped too far to one side, pain screamed in her leg. She shouted in pain before her leg gave out, and she collapsed to the floor.
It throbbed in tune with the waning stars. A pitiful, melancholy rhythm.
Heavy footsteps climbed the stairs before someone pounded on the door. “Nyana? Are you hurt?”
She opened her mouth to protest, but only a pained grunt escaped.
Joel burst inside.
She hung her head to avoid witnessing what must be pity in his eyes and instead focused on the scarred wood beneath her palms.
“It’s your leg, isn’t it?”
That and Liam’s nefarious curse slowly draining the life out of her. But she couldn’t tell him that. The curse would go away. It had to.
When she nodded, he approached and crouched beside her. Still, he didn’t touch her. She refused to meet his gaze. Good, kind, sweet Joel deserved so much better.
“We’ll visit a Heulwen healer,” he continued. “Female, if you’d like. Perhaps she might be able to do something to help you.”
Sadness rippled inside her heart as she shook her head and finally spoke, her words escaping as a croak. “I can’t do this to you, Joel. Just…just look at me! I’m an awful sight. You deserve so much better. I want better for my daughters, but not at your expense. You deserve to marry someone who can give you everything, too. Personally, I’m wondering why you haven’t married already.”
A pause.
“I was engaged once.”
Her head snapped up to meet his green, soulful gaze. “You were engaged? I had no idea. Why didn’t you marry her?”
He patted the ground in front of her. “Straighten your leg. Try massaging it with your fingers. Do you mind if I touch your hair? Believe it or not, one thing I know how to make look nice is hair.”
A tense, uncertain silence charged the space between them. But he waited for her permission. He didn’t take. He didn’t assume. He simply waited.
At last, she nodded, and her shoulders tensed once more as he snatched a brush from the vanity and moved to sit behind her. Gentle fingers brushed against her neck as he gathered her hair in his hands. A sigh escaped her at the light, feathery touch. The simple strokes against her scalp and neck eased the coiled tension in her body.
She straightened her leg and began massaging it from knee to ankle. A deep pain echoed in the muscles and even beyond to the scars in her soul.
