Bound by Curse

Untill Night

Rebecca's POV

The first thing I felt was softness.

Not the wet, cold stone. Not the smell of rot. Something warm lay under my back, and something smooth and clean was on my skin. For a moment I thought I was dreaming.

I opened my eyes.

White and gold curtains. The silver rug. Fresh roses in a vase by the window. Gray morning light came through the glass.

I was in my room.

I sat up fast and the room felt like it was moving. My head hurt badly. I put my hand on my forehead. Tried to breathe. How did I end up here? Did he let me go? The last thing I remembered was darkness and the sound of a drop falling, again and again.

"Be careful, Your Majesty."

I turned. Marta sat in the chair beside my bed with a wet cloth in her hands. Her eyes were red and tired. She looked at me with sadness. Also with the same kind care she had shown me since the very first day.

"Marta." My voice came out dry. Cracked. "How did I..."

"Drink first." She brought a cup of water to my lips. I drank it slowly little by little. It was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted.

"Slowly. There."

I lowered the cup. "Tell me."

She folded the cloth and set it on her knee. "I went down to the dungeon with water. I was not supposed to. I did it in secret." Her voice shook. "When I opened the door you were lying on the floor. You were not moving. "I called your name. You did not answer."

My stomach turned cold.

"I thought..." She pressed her lips together. "I ran up the stairs and found the King. I fell on my knees, Rebecca. I begged him. I said, If you do not let her out, she will die down there."

"And he agreed?"

"He was quiet for a very long time." Marta looked at her hands. "Then he said, Release her. Nothing more. The guards carried you up, and I washed you and changed your clothes and put you in this bed. You have been asleep since."

I looked down. I wore a clean white nightgown. My arms were scrubbed. My hair smelled of lavender. My throat grew tight.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Marta, thank you."

Then the tears came. I could not stop them. They ran down my face. I put my hands over my mouth. My shoulders shook. Marta came to the bed. Held me, rocking me gently like a mother would.

I cried until my chest hurt.

"Rebecca," Marta said after a while. She did not let go of me. Her voice was soft. "I must ask you something. Forgive me."

I wiped my cheeks. "Ask."

"How could you let such a thing happen?"

I went very still.

"I do not understand it, my dear." She pulled back and looked at my face. Her eyes were wet. "You have been married only a few days. The King has said he has not touched you. Everyone in this castle has heard it.." She stopped. "Who is the father?"

"Marta..."

"Why did you do it? Tell me why." Her hands tightened on mine. "I do not ask to shame you. I ask because I am afraid. I am afraid of what he will do."

"Marta."

"He is not himself. I have never seen him like this. Not in all the years I have known him." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Please. Tell him the truth. If you tell him who the father is, he may be softer. He may lessen your punishment."

I looked at her tired, kind face. I really really wanted to tell her everything. But I could not. Not when the person I would have to name was the one who had put me down there.

"I understand why you’re asking " I said slowly. "I know you are worried about me. But they are wrong. Everything they said about me is not true."

"But the child..."

"The child is real." I put my hand on my stomach. I didn’t know why. It felt different now. Warm, heavy and mine.

"That part is true. But the rest is not. I am not what they say I am. I am not that kind of woman, Marta. You must believe me."

"I want to."

"I will tell the truth," I said. "But at the right time. Not now."

"Why not now?"

"Because he does not want to hear it." My voice cracked. "Not yet. Please, do not ask me more. I never wished for any of this. I swear it."

Marta searched my face for a long moment. Then she sighed and squeezed my fingers.

"I will pray for you," she said.

***

The door opened softly, and Mira slipped in with a tray. When she saw me sitting up, she dropped it on the table and ran to the bed.

"My lady!"

She wrapped her arms around me. We both cried. She smelled of soap and lavender like always. I held onto her sleeve like a child.

"I was so afraid," she sobbed. "They would not let me near you. I stood outside that stair every night. I thought you were gone."

"I am here. I am here, Mira."

"I did not tell anyone, my lady. I swear to you. On my life."

"I know." I touched her wet cheek. "I know you didn’t do anything."

She pulled back and wiped her eyes. Then she did something I did not expect. She knelt at my bedside. Took my hand in both of hers.

"Please my lady," she whispered. "Tell the King the truth."

My heart sank.

"I am only afraid. I am so afraid for you." Her tears dripped onto our hands. "Whatever you are keeping, please say it. If you do not, I fear..."

She couldn't finish.

I stroked her hair. I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell her? He knows. He was there. He is only pretending. It sounded like madness even in my head.

Before I could answer, the door swung open.

I knew who it was before I looked up.

The room changed. The air got heavier. Marta stood quickly. Mira pressed her lips together and shrank back.

Draven stood in the doorway, wearing black. He had not slept. I could see it in the shadows under his eyes. His hair was messy like he had run his hands through it over and over. His face was cold and hard. His eyes moved slowly over me from head to toe like I was something he had stepped in.

Behind him in a soft gray dress with her hands folded stood Isabella.

She was not smiling. She had put on a sad face again. But I saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

"Leave us," Draven said.

"Your Majesty," Marta began. "She is still weak. If you could..."

"Leave."

Marta looked at me. Her eyes begged me to say something. I only nodded. She took Mira's hand and led her out. Mira looked back twice, until the door shut.

Only the three of us remained.

I pulled the blanket up to my chest. My cheek still ached where he had struck me. I forced myself to hold his eyes.

He crossed the room slowly and stopped beside the bed. He looked down at me, and I waited for the shouting.

It did not come.

"You are awake," he said quietly.

"Yes."

"A pity."

My breath caught.

"You should have died in there." His voice was low and even, and that made it worse. "Down in the dark, with that bastard in your belly. It would have saved me a deal of trouble."

The words hit me hard. I couldn't feel my hands for a moment. I looked at his face searching for a crack for something. Anything. There was nothing. There was only cold.

He does not remember, I thought. Or he does, and this is how little it meant.

"Draven..."

"I did not give you leave to say my name."

Isabella made a small sound behind him, like a sigh. I did not look at her.

"I have been generous," he said. "More than you deserve. Marta begged me, and I listened. Do not mistake it for mercy."

"I never asked for..."

"Be quiet." He leaned down, one hand on the bedpost, and his face came so close to mine that I could see the red in his eyes. "Listen well. I will give you until night."

My heart pounded.

"By the time the sun goes down, you will tell me who the father is. You will tell me everything. Every word." His voice dropped to almost nothing. "And if you do not, Rebecca, I will pass my judgment on you. And I promise you, it will not be a dungeon."

He straightened. He turned and walked to the door, and Isabella stepped aside for him, and for a moment, she looked straight at me.

She smiled.

The door closed.

I sat alone in the huge bed with the sunlight falling over my hands. Slowly, I turned my head and looked at the window.

The sun had barely begun to rise.

I had until night.