It shreds my insides to see the merciless gore. One by one, they are sent to the front and beheaded. It is somber.
With each death that I did not stop, I feel it stain my soul. So much death.
Like a light, I remember that I will speak with Melisa in a few hours. It should be more pain, but I don’t care what she’s done. What she’s learned.
I just want to hold her, as I did the night of the fire.
The emotion is just as natural as breathing. It strikes me as futile to believe it would fix anything… But the comfort in another’s arms certainly would make it easier to withstand another day.
Chapter 21
MELISA
You are strong, I tell myself while lighting flames that damned near refuse to spark.
You are fierce, I whisper while I wait for the buckets to boil.
You are capable, I insist as I place the gem for the girls in a drawer near my bed.
The words repeat as I clean my teeth with a citrus tree stick. Eneko hardly kisses during the short nights I spend with him—he prefers my mouth on other parts of his body—but something about it eases my stomach.
Once finished, I crush a few of the mint leaves I'd found with Estela's herbs until a powder forms that I apply to my teeth and let it sit while I finish preparing my bath.
I add the rose-scented oil to the warm water. I scrub every inch of my body, paying extra attention to my fingernails and toes. Then I get out of the tub so I have enough time to dry my hair.
The warmth from the hearth is welcome as I plop down, boar hair brush in hand. While I stroke my tresses, I think of how Wren looked while getting her hair combed out. Griselda hadtaught me how to pin my stick-straight locks into curls around my head.
Once my hair shines, I tie it back with a red ribbon. Then, I dress, being sure to bind where my wound has scabbed over, and dab the red rouge onto my eyes and lips.
When I look at myself in the mirror, I can almost feel my mother looking over my shoulder.
Whore.
Griselda can think whatever she wants about me. One day, I’ll leave her behind.
I square my shoulders, inspecting my body with an almost clinical scrutiny. My breasts are appropriately pushed up, my dress remains unwrinkled, and my face is pleasing by giant standards.
You are strong. You are fierce. You are capable.
You are... a whore.
My chest squeezes.
It doesn't matter what Ra’Sa thinks about me tonight, or any other night. But then today… he got those men away from me.
“You probably don’t even know the touch of a woman!”
“And you’d be right.”
Did that mean… that he’d never made love to a woman?
I shake my head. None of it matters. I didn't sleep with him before he arrived, and I’m glad I didn’t. There will be other men. There will always be other men.
The Enduar fantasy of being mated and finding someone to care for you unconditionally... It isn't for me.
When there's a knock on the door, I let out a long sigh. I place the beaded headdress atop my locks and then grab my cloak. When I reach the door and pull it open, Hibsej waits on the other side, dressed finely. Her frown deepens when she sees me.
Without a word, she turns on her heel and begins to walk to the front of the house. I hurry out outside, locking the door behind me, and follow after my master’s wife.