Page 32 of The Dark Prince
It was exactly what I needed.
She drew back, only blinking once as she took in the spray of blood across the bottom of my dress.
“Oh, you poor thing. He didn’t prepare you at all, did he? How like him. Let’s get you upstairs and settled.”
I was so relieved to have someone take charge, so I didn’t fight with her. I went meekly along like a little lamb, unable to get the same thought out of my head.
They had forced Tyr to marry me. He hadn’t chosen me. I was simply there. Lucky. It could have just as easily been Roselle after all.
It hurt more than it should.
And he killed people. That man was trying desperately to tell him something, and he didn’t even give him a chance! Would he do that to me one day? What kind of man killed another without hearing him out?
I tried to breathe, breaking down what I had surmised about the king and his daughter. I knew that the Dark Prince had been in a hurry to get a bride. I hadn’t really cared why, just relieved to never obey Roselle again. When he chose me, I’d felt … special, I supposed. For the first time since my mother had died, someone wanted me.
Only he didn’t, did he? It was a rushed wedding nearly at knifepoint for the poor monk, and my husband refused to touch me even if it was clear he wanted me. What man didn’t take advantage of a woman trapped at their side?
One who didn’t truly want the woman in question. Tyr didn’t want me.
I was simply nothing more than a pawn between the schemes of men far above me. At least my situation had improved.
“Here now. Through here. My name is Bessy. I’ve been caring for the womenfolk here all my life. I’m so happy we finally have a proper lady again.”
It was important that I tell her it wasn’t real, that Tyr hadn’t actually wanted to marry me. It didn’t count.
Nothing came from me but tears.
Bessy clucked her tongue. “There now, there’s nothing a warm bath and some food won’t fix. Let’s peel those dirty layers off, and put you in a nice dress.”
A warm bath would be nice. It’d been at least a week since I’d even washed myself down with a rag back at my manor. I likely stank. Wasthatwhy Tyr didn’t want to be near me? No, I had to stop thinking like that. I couldn’t get the image of the man’s blood spraying across the floor out of my head. Tyr had done it so easily … so automatically.
“Luckily I had the boys bring water the moment we saw Arne racing in. He’s always the first. Of course, Leif won’t like that he was trussed over the horse like some maiden, but his head is already being tended to by his wife so he can’t complain that much, can he?”
I nodded dully here and there, letting Bessy prattle on about all the men and their families, or lack thereof. She led me into a large sitting room, then straight through to a bedroom. I couldn’t help but notice the enormous bed against the back wall, with four large posts hung with light gauzy fabric in blues and golds. The fabrics were a dark blue, and dark wood moldings were carved with intricate scenes of wolves and other beasts. A large fireplace stood across from the bed, also a work of art in its own right. The mantle depicted scenes of the north lands, with evergreen trees and even a burly man who looked like Puth. Two comfy couches sat in front of it. Nothing could tear my gaze away from it.
“Here we are,” Bessy noted cheerfully. I tore my eyes from the bed to the large metal tub in front of it, filled with steaming hot water.
Ok, so maybe there was one thing that could supersede the bed.
Bessy helped me peel off my clothing, bundling it to another woman who immediately took it for washing. “I can help with that,” I called after her, but I might as well have been talking to a brick wall. I blushed as Bessy raised an eyebrow at me, then gestured for me to put one leg in the tub. “Wait! My wedding cords are in the pocket!”
The woman came back, but Bessy dutifully dug them out and placed them reverently on the bed. “Interesting choices. Blue for fidelity, longevity, strength, and safe journey. That one is practical.” She paused, fingering the white cord. “White for purity, devotion, andtruth.”
She eyed me curiously.
“I didn’t pick them; the monk did,” I argued, wondering if the colors were poor choices or not.
Bessy nodded as if this made sense. I’m glad it did for someone.
“I am quite serious about helping,” I continued. “I have been a maid before, so I can assist with the chores around here. I—”
Bessy bumped me and I fell into the tub, hot water spilling out over the edges.
“Whoopsie daisy! Sorry about that. Getting clumsy in my old age.”
I glared at her underneath my wet hair as her deft fingers quickly laced up the tiny buttons on the heavy sweater I’d been wearing. Accident, my arse.
“Seriously. I want to help—”
