Chapter 65
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Fiona opened her eyes. The ceiling of her chamber, now familiar to the point of tedium, greeted her. She must have drifted off, she realised; exhaustion had finally claimed her without her leave.
As clarity returned, so too did the memory of what had preceded her slumber. Recalling Caligo’s behaviour—how he had acted with utter disregard for her wishes—a fresh wave of indignation rose within her. But it was short-lived, quickly subsiding into a weary resignation.
‘Since when was the world ever a bed of roses?’
Just when she had begun to think the situation was not entirely insufferable. It was precisely in such moments that one ought to guard against a blow from behind. This was why complacency was a luxury she could ill afford.
Yet for all her efforts to appear unmarred, she could not mend the scratches upon her heart. The shock of being so fiercely rebuffed by a beast to whom she had tentatively offered her affection had left her feeling profoundly sombre.
‘This must be atonement.’
When she considered it, Caligo’s conduct the previous evening was not so different from what she herself had done to him.
‘To remember it all and exact such repayment.’
Seen in that light, she could not bring herself to resent him entirely. Circumstances had pushed her, certainly, but it was also true that she had, in essence, pressed herself upon him, almost by force.
‘We have traded blows. Let us call it even and be done with it.’
She forced herself to adopt a lighter perspective, turning her face from the tangled thoughts and the heaviness in her heart. This was her customary method of dealing with such matters. Fiona’s life had never afforded her the leisure to coddle emotions she did not know how to handle.
And so she set aside the shock of the night past, and the anxieties of the nights to come, relegating them to the margins of her mind.
Then, she filled the hollow ache within her with the breakfast Marie had prepared, and resolved to venture out before her spirits could sink further.
“I shall likely return by supper,” she announced.
Her entire body ached as though she had been beaten, as if she had emerged from a wedding night’s ordeal, but she bore it in silence.
“My lady, if I may….”
Marie stopped her as she made to leave the room. The maid, who still single-handedly attended to Fiona, was acting peculiarly hesitant, dithering in a manner most unlike her.
“What is it?”
Fiona paused at the threshold and turned. But the maid merely moved her lips soundlessly before offering a limp, “It is nothing….”
It was odd, but Fiona did not press.
A short while later, however, as she crossed the main hall on her way to the library, she understood the reason for Marie’s unease.
The main hall of the keep, where one could usually wander all day without glimpsing another soul, was teeming with people. Just as on the day Fiona had first arrived, the few servants were bustling about, hauling luggage, and outside, the courtyard was astir with the snorting of horses and attendant commotion.
A month had already passed since her arrival in the north. It appeared that the imperial officials dispatched to attend to matters concerning her marriage were finally taking their leave.
Fiona had paused, arrested by the unexpected sight. The first to notice her was Jayden.
From the foot of the staircase, he beckoned to her with a smile, playing the part of the solicitous elder brother. The eyes of several nobles accompanying him turned in her direction. She would have liked to flee, but uncertain of what reprisal might follow, she approached with reluctant steps.
“I was just about to send for you. Come, Fiona, pay your respects.”
Jayden escorted her with solicitous care, as though this had always been his manner. Playing the part of one determined to secure her standing, he made her greet each noble present, ensuring they marked her face.
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