Chapter 7— "What if I burn you?"
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I went to sleep alone.
Not in anger. Not in peace either. Somewhere between the two.
I woke to movement.
I sat upright.
He was at the mirror. Seated in the chair that had not been there the night before, a book open in one hand, and beside him — standing closer than was necessary — a young maid drawing a brush through his hair with the careful devotion of one who had been granted something she considered a great honour.
He had walked in without word. Had brought her in after him as though I were not lying in that very bed. As though I were not his wife in this chamber.
He would not ask me, of course.
I was human.
I stood irritated.
The maid's eyes found mine in the glass. Her face brightened at once. "Good morning, Her Highness."
'Dirty' , I thought.
It was a maid's dream and she knew it well.
"Leave," I said.
She looked at Dorian, to also dismiss her properly. He did not lift his eyes from his book, only gave the smallest turn of his head and she set the brush down and slipped from the room with her smile carried out beside her.
I stood where I was.
I ought to have been wrathful. He had entered unannounced. He had brought her when he might have — when I could have —
But I was not truly his wife. Not yet. Not in the manner that granted me such claim.
"Since you have sent her away," he said, his eyes still upon the page, "will you not finish what she began?"
I looked at him.
I looked at the brush upon the table.
"I will," I said.
I walked to him and took up the brush and looked upon his hair properly for the first time. Dark. Thick. The curls catching the pale morning light in a manner that was entirely unreasonable. Longer than I had marked before, falling almost past his collar, and it held a shine that mine did not and I would not dwell upon that.
His scent met me before I had prepared for it.
Something of spice. Something beneath that which carried no name I knew — ancient, almost, the kind that does not belong to ordinary things. It was the sort of scent that explained the younger maids entirely and I would not dwell upon that either.
I stood with the brush in my hand, not knowing how long I have stood there.
"Shall I call for another?" he said.
"Yes," I said.
It came out before I had chosen it.
I set the brush down. Arranged my robe. And walked out.
"Human."
His voice came from behind me but I was already at my private Space. I shut the door. Turned the lock. Let my robe fall and stepped into the bath my maid had prepared and sank into the warmth of it and told myself to be still.
Then the knock came.
Gently, Heavy.
Then the door opened regardless.
I knew he broke the door.
I drew my knees to my chest as his steps crossed the stone floor and stopped beside the tub. He lowered himself to my level. I turned my face from his.
"Why did you leave?"
"I required space."
"You do not leave my presence in such a manner." His voice did not rise. "Not without my word."
I turned to face him. "And what if I did. Would you dry me up. Would you kill me?"
He looked at me for a long moment.
"I would not drain you, what if I burn you"he said., serious this time. "Instead of drying you up, I burn you instead." A pause, unhurried. "Do not play with fire, human."
He rose and walked out.
I sat in the water and looked at the place where he had been.
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"He has gone on a matter of business, my lady."
I looked at the maid. "How many days?"
"Two, my lady."
I said nothing more.
I sat with that as she finished the last touches on my hair, her hands moving through it with practiced quiet.
Two days.
Was it because of what passed between us that morning. Was it the bath. The brush. The words at the tub.
I did not know.
"Done, my lady."
I looked at myself in the glass.
I would be sleeping alone tonight. I knew that already.
---
I woke late.
The chamber was bright with midmorning light and the maids had already been and gone — a tray sat waiting on the side table, still warm, covered with a cloth. I ate alone by the window and watched the grounds below and thought of nothing useful.
The day passed the way days pass in large empty places — slowly, with too much room in it.
I found myself wondering where he had gone. What business pulled a man from his own house few days after his wedding. Whether it had anything to do with the morning or whether I was giving myself too much weight in his calculations.
Probably the latter.
By evening I had decided I wanted to know.
---
I asked a maid at dinner.
She smiled pleasantly and told me nothing.
I asked another after.
She looked at her hands.
Finally I stopped a guard in the corridor near the east wing — older, steady eyed, the kind who had been standing in palace corridors long enough to have stopped being surprised by anything.
"The study, my lady." He said it simply. "He returned this evening."
I did not know where the study was.
I found Aldric before the guard could finish his sentence and offer to take me — I left before he could follow, walking quickly enough that his footsteps fell behind and did not catch up.
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The study door was slightly open.
Light from within fell across the threshold in a thin line. I pushed the door gently and stepped inside.
Empty.
I stood in the doorway for a moment. Looked around the shelves, the desk, the low fire in the grate that had been burning recently and was not yet cold. He had been here. Recently enough that the air still held the particular quality his presence left in rooms.
I walked in slowly.
The desk was clear save for one thing.
A folded piece of paper, set near the center of it, as though placed there deliberately. As though left for someone who would come looking.
I reached for it.
Opened it.
The words were brief. Seven of them, no more, arranged in a single line across the center of the page.
'Be careful. Something is about to happen.'
I read it twice.
Then I looked at the words more closely, at the way they sat on the page, at the substance of them, at what had been used to set them there.
It was not ink.
I did not know what it was.
Blood?
I stood alone in the empty study with the note in my hand and the fire burning low in the grate.
I folded it slowly.
And held it.
"What are you doing here?"