MEADOWS OF THORN

Scars

Without another thought, I stood and carried her in my arms.

"Put your arms around my neck, my lady."

Linda looked up at me at last, her senses returning, and believed she had done wrong.

"I... I am sorry."

"What are you sorry for now? Do as I say," I told her, wiping her tears with my thumb , lifting her chin.

"We shall both fall this way, miss."

"Uh," Linda, still dazed, slowly wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Where... where are we going?"

"But I have bathed."

"You have not. Do not lie. And tell me what happened."

In my chamber, I set her on the bed. I knelt to remove her slippers, then asked again.

She met my eyes without hesitation, tears rising once more.

"They... they told me to take off my clothes," she whispered.

"Yes," I said, so she knew I was listening. I stood and sat beside her. Lost in her sorrow, she wept again.

"But I could not take them off. The laces are behind, on the corset," she sobbed.

"Yes. No more tears."

"But they would not help me," she hiccupped.

"I see." The more she spoke, the tighter my jaw grew, and the hotter my anger burned.

"Hush now, look here."

She told me all, and I wiped her tears with my handkerchief.

"You... know, they poured cold water on me."

"Did they now?" I asked, tending to her, looking into her eyes. They were wide and innocent, now red-rimmed.

"Yes, they did. And they would not help me."

"Then let me help you," I said.

"But they said the Crown Prince will have me killed if any man sees my body."

"Nothing will happen to you. Come here."

I unbound the ribbon from her long hair, then gently loosened her gown.

By chance, I saw scars that were never meant for any eye.

She spoke as one who had not spoken to another soul in years, unsure of her own words.

He was struck dumb with horror the moment his gaze fell upon her back.

Not only were there the livid scars of relentless lashings, but dreadful marks of fire likewise marred her skin.

For a time he stood in silence, his jaw set firm and his spirit confounded. At last, he let his fingers trace the cruel remnants with a touch most tender.

"H-huh, it... it tickles," she murmured.

"Forgive me," he breathed, withdrawing at once, loath to awaken old agonies. He had not the heart to voice the question burning within him, yet curiosity proved the stronger sovereign.

Her frock, though not wholly undone, had loosened enough at the back to lay her suffering bare. He noted how Linda’s ears and neck flushed crimson.

"Why... why are these scars here?" he asked, curiosity at last besting restraint.

She turned her head and, looking up into his eyes, smiled.

He found her smile outrageous — that she should smile upon such cruelty.

"It was punishment..." she said, and then lowered her head once more.

"Punishment? For what cause?" he demanded, his brow deeply furrowed, bewilderment plain upon his countenance.

Speaking of her scars did not sting her, yet it wounded him.

"When the Queen..." she faltered, swallowing hard.

Standing upon the cold floor, she fixed her gaze upon her toes while Zachary stood behind Linda, beholding her hair and the line of her face.

"Was unable... to bear children, then I was born. They said my mother seduced the King, and that she kept me — did not rid herself of me," she continued.

"But when the King discovered it, he denied it. For it was the truth, you see... She desired only a companion. But... but they believed..."

The tears she gulped burned her throat most grievously.

"Peace, peace. We shall speak of this anon. Pray, go and bathe — the water is warm enough," he said softly.

"My deepest thanks, sir. You are most merciful."

"Nay, I am not."

"But you are."

"Very well. Go now."

He paused, then added: "Fresh garments are laid upon the bed. Don them when you are finished. I shall wait without. Knock upon the door when you are ready, and I shall come."

"Thank you, sir knight."

These must be his beloved’s garments, she thought. Never have I worn aught so precious or artfully made. White and elegant — beautiful beyond measure.

I beg pardon of his beloved, that I should wear her clothes.

"Enter, sir knight. I am finished."

"Very well. Did the garments fit? Was the water to your liking—"

His words failed him when he beheld her. The robes hung loose upon her slight frame, yet she was transformed. The diamonds at the neck of the gown caught the light most beautifully — it was as though a canary had at last shed her worn plumage.