But how dare Archer say things like that to her? How dare he insinuate that she doesn’t know what true monsters look like?
“Ye claim that I daenae ken ye,” she hissed, pressing her back into the wood of the door. “But ye daenae ken me. Ye think I daenae ken what true evil looks like?”
Emilie spread out her arms, her fingertips reaching around each side of the threshold.
If he wants out of this door, he’s goin’ to have to push past me entirely. And I’ll nae be goin’ down without a fight.
Archer scoffed at her.
“What?” he asked, his tone dripping in sarcasm that sent frustration souring in Emilie’s belly. “Ye think because ye were tryin’ to be a nun ye ken of the devil? Ye think the things I’ve done daenae make me devilish on their own? Well, think again, lass. Because the staff can fill yer head with all the bonnie words that they want about how I’m fair and I protect me people. But they daenae ken the half of what I’ve done to keep war away from them.”
“I ken what monsters are because I’ve seen them,” Emilie argued back.
The words began pouring from her lips, one after another, so fast that she didn’t have time to think about them before speaking.
“Ye’ve met me parents,” she continued on, each word coming out faster and more harrowed than the last. “Well, they left me in a convent when I was six.Six,Archer. And it wasnae because they wanted what was best for me, or because they thought that I would be a good nun. Nay, it was because they dinnae want me.”
“What do ye…” he began, trying to interrupt her, but Emilie was too far gone.
Her story began pouring out of her. He’d shared a bit of his past with her, and now it was time for her to do the same.
“They made that all too clear on the day they dropped me off,” she continued as if her husband had never spoken. “They told me that they’d never see me again. Me own maither left me cryin’, tryin’ to reach out for her to cling to her skirts, but I was bein’ held back by nuns. She told me that I was nay use to them, that the only good I could do in the world was there, at that nunnery. Where maybe, even though I was a burden to me family, I could make up for it through me service to God.”
Emilie’s breaths were coming fast now, the all-too-familiar panic that so often consumed her when she talked about her parents washing over her entirely.
“So, I did that,” she breathed. “I threw meself into me service to God. And I love it, I do. Daenae misunderstand me. But in all that time, knowin’ that me own family left me there because they dinnae want me. Because they were disappointed every time that they looked at me? It ate at me every single day.”
“Me faither may nae have hit me,” Emilie continued. “But I promise ye, it dinnae make his words and actions hurt any less. Nor did me maither ever extend so much as a kind word. In fact, she was even worse than he was. So daenae stand there and tell me that I daenae ken what a monster is. I’ve been familiar with them for me entire life. And if ye’re the child of a monster, well, so am I.”
Her hands fell to her side, and Emilie pushed off a bit from the door. For the first time since she’d begun speaking, she focused on her husband’s face.
When she’d begun, he’d looked like he was ready to flee. In fact, he’d been actively focused on the door, which was why she’d had to hurl herself in front of it.
But now? Everything about him had darkened.
His eyes, which usually were the gray of steel, were now the color of a vicious, storming sea on a cloud-filled day. His shoulders were straight, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.
“Yer parents did what to ye?” he growled, and the violence that his tone promised made the hairs on the nape of Emilie’s neck stand on end.
“They never hit me,” she quickly reminded him, suddenly worried about what her words might have set in motion.
“That doesnae mean they dinnae hurt ye,” he menaced.
She snorted, hoping to bring a little bit of levity to the moment.
“They’re hardly the only ones that have ever hurt me,” she said, giving her husband what she hoped was a sly grin.
But her words only served to make his gaze darken further.
“What do ye mean?” he asked, his eyes flashing. “Who else hurt ye? Are ye tellin’ me that someone put their hands on ye?”
Emilie realized her mistake immediately. She shook her head, holding her hands up in front of her in a sign of placation.
“It’s nothin’,” she said.
She wished more than anything that she could take it all back. That she could unsay the words that had put him in this state.
Why did I have to go on and on about me parents? Why couldnae I just let him leave when he was ready and primed to storm out the door?