𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 ✔

Chapter Thirty-Nine

It felt like days had gone by, but in reality, it had only just recently turned noon.

I had stayed in bed for almost seven hours after the Queen had left, and only had enough tears in me to cry for about four of them.

My eyes were puffy, throat raw and my nose burned from constantly wiping it. But, after getting it all out, something felt light in me. Like I had emptied out a part of me that had begun to overflow. Or perhaps my nerves were destroyed to the point I had finally gone completely numb. Either way, something was different, something had changed.

I sat up and looked over at the still open balcony doors. The rain had slowed some, and the sky was not nearly as dark.

Cordelia sat in a chair next to me, top half resting on the bed as she silently napped. "We've both been through so much, haven't we?" I softly muttered.

Carefully I crawled to the other side of the bed, trying not to wake her, then quietly made my way to the balcony.

I gasped as the cold rain collided with my warm skin, washing away the dried tears and soothing my swollen eyes and irritated nose.

If I won the courting, would I have been happy? Would the feelings I once felt for Thomas return and develop into more than lust? Could we have made it work? Or would I have suffered every single day after, watching the man I truly loved from afar, knowing I'd never have him for myself? Spend every second in his presence in agony, painfully aware of his every move, sharing longing gazes that only drove the dagger deeper into my heart?

And if I did not win, would I have survived my mother's wrath? Would father have kept his word about me marrying one of Duke Wallem's sons? Or would I have found myself discarded, married off to the first awful person they could find to take me, that would use and abuse me until the day I died?

Before, those questions ate me alive. Constantly plaguing me and gnawing away at my confidence, my sanity. But after everything, they hardly even garner a second glance from me, because so what?

I had focused too much on the 'what if's and 'would I's. Forgetting that I had the ability to simply try. I feared failure, uncertainty in my fate, to the point I had completely stopped trying to shape my own way.

Things had been taken from me, yes. But like Rheda said, I needed to take them back because those who took them did not deserve to keep them.

My confidence, dignity, joy, safety, strength, patience, sanity, trust, self-love, and hope had all been stolen, and it was about time I regained them.

It was about time I stood up for myself and took hold of my own future.

. . .

"Are you alright?" Cordelia softly asked as she laced my dress.

The two of us had not said much to one another while she readied me for the Dampierre's Ball.

"Yes, actually, I feel better than I have in weeks." I had my arms against the wall as she pulled my laces snug.

She was silent for a moment, then finally replied, "Are you sure? I-I. . .well after what happened earlier. . ."

"They almost broke me. . ." I breathed, fighting the ache in the back of my throat, "I almost let him deal the final blow." I swallowed the lump and continued on, "But never again will I allow anyone to treat me as if I am lesser than, as if I am nothing."

Once she finished tying the laces, I turned to face her, "I deserve better, and so I shall not settle for less."

Perhaps they had shattered my mind and I had gone completely mad from all the trauma I had accrued. But wanting better and taking a stand seemed like the best kind of insanity to get stuck with, if I had indeed lost it.