The Hunchback's Reluctant Bride ✔

18 | Lamplight

Vadde, looking ravishing in one of her dresses she'd brought with her to this place, stood in the night air, watching with others as her would-be father-in-law took the foul rabbit out of the house and marched it into the forest to dispose of it. Two of his sons went with him for protection.

The whole house had seen. Now, several people, whispering as they passed by her, hurried to wash their hands.

Aggu was inside cleaning, desperate to salvage not only the table but her very home.

In the chaos, two people stood still, Vadde who stared at the ground, and Wyrn, holding an oil lamp, who she knew watched her.

They both didn't have to wash, because he'd ushered her out and forced her to after she showed him the well-'dressed' rabbit.

And he hadn't said anything. Shaza said plenty as she passed by with a bucket of water. The bitch waited to get close to her before snickering.

No. Wyrn hadn't said anything. Vadde still remembered the look of affection he gave her after a long pause.

The way he'd stared into her eyes and said, "This is the best I've ever seen it done."

Her heart had swelled with so much pride it had nearly burst. How could she have been so stupid to believe him after he moved around the table and maneuvered her out?

"I'll get some limes and rum," Wyrn'd said.

Stupid.

Because while he was trying to rescue her, she'd thought it was his way of preparing them for the lovemaking promised for the night.

He'd said nothing. He'd given her no warning. No time to throw the carcass away and perhaps clean on her own. He, perhaps, concluded she couldn't manage to clean well anyway.

And now, he just stood there with a frown on his face.

"Tomorrow..." he began but Vadde heard nothing.

She certainly didn't when she turned and made her way to her room.

He followed if his shout was any indication.

"Princess," he called but she willed him to shut up.

Should he say it any louder, someone might hear.

A storm of emotions swirled through her and settled into one feeling: anger.

She was angry when she yanked open her door and slammed it shut. She was angry when he barged in shortly after, speaking gently as he begged her to calm, oil lamp raised.

"Tomorrow—"

He said again but stopped when she took off her right shoe and hurled it at him.

"You liar! You absolute bastard!"

He ducked but the second one caught him in the head.

The table flipped; the chair was next.

"So you think you can get rid of me?"

A flower vase on the windowsill went sailing across the room and smashed beautifully against the door.

"Is that what you think? Then try it."

Three more plants perished in her fury.

"Princess," Wyrn pleaded, "it was an honest mistake. I understood that."

But what did all the understanding in the world matter? She was as good as delivered to Prince Orm by midday tomorrow.

She threw pillows, the second chair, hairbrush, comb, anything in reach.