A Beast's Tale

Chapter 81

I hadn't lied when I told Ivetta her scars were fading. They were significantly less noticeable from the time the bandages came off almost a year ago. She didn't seem to realize that. When it was just us, she didn't care about them. It was only elsewhere, in the company of others, that they became problematic. I was half tempted to arrange a run-in with one of my brothers when we finally left our room for a late lunch that day, just to prove to her that they weren't as obvious as she thought, but I didn't want to send her into another panic. So, I made my feelings clear in the privacy of our room, and then we enjoyed the rest of the day in the most isolated areas of the largely empty palace, devoid of most of its denizens who were in town enjoying the festival. She was smiling again, and that was enough.

I thought she was okay.

A few days later, Theresa's knock at the door woke me up. That was unusual. She brought breakfast a few minutes after nine o'clock every morning, and Ivetta always woke me up at nine o'clock, before Theresa arrived. Ivetta wasn't cuddled up to me, which told me she wasn't in bed anymore. Maybe she got caught up in her reading and lost track of time.

But she wasn't answering the door.

"Ivetta, Theresa's here," I mumbled.

"I'm not feeling well," Ivetta replied, her voice coming from the bed next to me.

My eyes shot open.

"Ivetta?" I sat up, and there she was, curled up on the opposite side of the bed, as far from me as possible without falling off the edge. She'd pulled the blankets up over her head, further isolating herself. I reached over to pull the blanket down and brush her hair from her face. Her forehead didn't feel hot, and she didn't look pale. She was focused on the wall opposite her, refusing to look up at me. "What's wrong?"

She just shook her head, pursing her lips. Tears shimmered at the edge of her eyelids, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"Ivetta, look at me," I pleaded.

She shook her head again.

I ignored Theresa's next knock at the door and lay back down, wrapping my arms around Ivetta's waist and pulling her flush with me as I racked my brain to try to determine why she was so upset. Nothing had happened out of the ordinary since the festival. We hadn't argued about anything. What was it about this day that had her in such a low mood?

That was it. The day.

I nuzzled into her hair and sighed.

"It's your mother's birthday, isn't it?"

She nodded.

"What do you want from me, little dove?"

"I just want to be left alone," she finally said, her voice choked with tears.

That stung. She always turned to me for comfort. To be rejected, pushed away, hurt. I didn't know what to say.

Theresa knocked again.

I reluctantly got out of bed and headed for the door, glancing back at Ivetta. She'd pulled the blankets over her head again. I paused at the door, exhaling deeply as I arranged my expression, and opened the door.

"I'll have breakfast in my office."

Theresa's green eyes were wide with confusion, but I shut the door with no further explanation. I had none. Ivetta didn't want me here. That much was clear, and I had no idea why.

She didn't move or speak as I silently got ready for the day. I glanced back at her once more before I left, an unmoving lump under the blankets. The thought crossed my mind that maybe she didn't actually want me to leave, maybe I should stay and hold her regardless, but I'd never seen her like this, and I didn't know.