Sometimes Mary would backtrack, sometimes skip ahead. When Knox let go and felt the waters of her mind, it was euphoria. Like the Lady of the Lake rising out of the lagoon, so did the image.
Ren came, tray balanced on his forearms. He said nothing. He was pale, thin. He used his wrists to put the tray down and left Mary's room. Mary rose above the edge of the bed, probed the area. The food smelled delicious, nothing tainted, no poisons. Starved, she snatched a bit of cheese and sank back behind the bed. It was the same at lunch and dinner. She made no requests of him and he said nothing to her.
A week or so passed. The servants were just as anxious as they'd been during the initial fight, but the army had been reined in by BoBo's oily smile.
One of them had to yield and Ren saw it as his duty. The wash basin was filled with water each morning, though Ren couldn't be sure if Aoibh bothered with it. His body was filled with tremors, but he sat on the bed. His throat closed and his mouth was dry.
"If you leave me, I have nothing."
She met his quiet voice with a scream, "You can't hold me prisoner. I will never marry you and I will never allow you near me."
Knox pitied Ren. If Mary wasn't screaming, he would have wondered what she felt in these moments.
Ren was a statue. Mary didn't dare reach for the food with him that close and he would never let her leave. She didn't even try to run for the door. She hid behind the bed, just feet from the marble pillar that was King Ao Guang.
"There is nothing I can say to change your mind?"
"'Leave," she screamed. "I don't want you here."
It was like yelling at a wall. He just sat there. The more passionate and vocal the creature Aoibh became, the more reserved and unmoved he was. She had no thoughts, no designs. She wanted out of the nightmare. Mary wanted to run and freeze and starve and pretend none of this had happened, but he wouldn't let her live an illusion.
The heartbeat was even and his voice was a whisper.
"If you give me a son, I'll let you go."
"You're out of your mind!"
But Mary wasn't listening to her own words. She was the wind screaming at the mountain and she exhausted herself crying.
As he left, he said, "These are the only terms I'll accept."
YOU ARE READING
The Lamb and the Gray Battle
FantasyEvie has spent the last 575 years on the North American continent, now called America, the Pure and Clean. She smiles, volunteers and makes cakes and pastries for her neighbors, hiding away her demon blood. She wants nothing to do with her estranged...
