Irish Lullaby (Book One of A Violent Melody Duet)

Chapter Four

This was not a happier beginning for her, not by a fucking long shot. She was putting on her makeup for the night, covering the dark circles around her eyes and bruising on her cheek. She missed her solitude of being home in Ireland, she missed her horse, she missed being sad and lonely.

She was never alone now.

She always had some sort of eyes on her from it being visiting family, a guard, or Nicholas himself. She had stopped calling him Nic two weeks into their engagement when his kindness turned to quick anger. Nothing was right, nothing was the same as before he slipped that god awful diamond ring on her finger.

Now tonight was their engagement party, they would be introducing themselves as a couple to their world and she wanted nothing more than to run away from it all. There was nowhere for her to run though, she had no money to her name and no history anywhere. Her family had the perfect prisoner, one who even given the chance of freedom could not take it.
Oh how she longed to just disappear, to leave this home and just walk into the ocean never to be seen again. It would be so easy, she didn't need money, help, or even the ability to swim. She could grab a rock and let it sink her under the clear water. The weight of her engagement ring might have been enough on its own to keep her from rising.
She wouldn't though, she was desperate but not to that point yet. She knew what it was like hanging onto the edge of death, knowing if you just stopped trying it would all go away. Every fear, every worry, every pain, every joy, every possible outcome her life could have, they would all simply cease.
She remembered the strain of the choice even at six she had thought, what if? What if she let her body slip from the ledge she had landed on, what if she didn't cry out to let them know her limp body was still heaving in a breath every few seconds. She made a choice then at an age so young she didn't fully understand it even now, a choice to fight.
Her brother had pushed her off, in anger for her beating him in a race to the top of the peak. He was bigger and older and stronger and he felt cheated. She somehow won on her new horse she had barely begun to ride so he ripped her from the seat and screamed how much he hated her as he shook her small frame. She pushed and shoved as best she could but his grip wouldn't give and when it finally did after she kicked up dirt and rocks onto him he shoved her hard and she tumbled right over the edge.
She could still recall the ripping pain as the sharp edges scraped at her skin, could remember the pain when she finally landed what was later told to her thirty feet down on a weak ledge that had she been even slightly bigger in size would have broken from the weight. She laid there and tried to speak but blood had filled her mouth and she choked until she found just enough strength to turn and spit it out. Their guard who was following further back was screaming from above, she couldn't hear his words, not from the distance of the piercing shrill that wouldn't stop vibrating through her ears. She didn't know how long she was there before the family helicopter buzzed above and someone was at her, lifting her broken body and cradling her to them.
It was the first time she had ever been comforted by someone. She fell asleep in their arms and woke up two weeks later in her room surrounded by machines and people in scrubs like the shows her nanny sometimes watched. They didn't speak on the incident and she hadn't seen her parents in her room for weeks after. It had been almost a year before she saw her brother again but even then she never approached, never spoke, or even met his eyes.
She would never be able to forget the small smile that covered his face when they both realized she was going off the edge.

She was dressed more modestly now, a gown made of fabric blue and green like the sea fell just short of her ankles letting the heels someone had picked for her be seen. It had a low back and long sleeves, something she knew Nicholas requested to cover the growing collection of marks left on her skin, the top was tight and let everyone see each curve of her body. Even though he couldn't show off her skin he would let everyone see the body he would soon own.
He already treated her as if he did, with the way his fingers bit into her skin till she held back tears and when his opened hand would whip across her face at unpredictable moments. She didn't know how to please him enough to keep herself safe. The soft touches she loved were long gone, the way he would kiss her entire body till she ached were but a twisted dream.
The only time they became physical was when he would become violent or when he'd hunt her down and force her to her knees, he enjoyed watching the way her eyes cried when she choked on him to a point of suffocation. Her hand rubbed against her sore throat at the thought, something the maids who helped dress her noticed with a look of pity.
Everyone knew the life she now had here, they knew not to help her as she lay crying in the hall or to give her a blanket when she crept back to her room undressed at random hours of the day. Her life was not meant to be easy, her life was meant to be hard and cruel. She often wondered in the few months she had been living here if maybe she angered God in a previous life, what had she done to darken her soul to deserve this? She knew it couldn't have been in this life. She hadn't been given the chance to live to make mistakes deserving of her punishment.

Had he forsaken her like everyone in her life?

"You look so lovely." Her mother spoke as she walked through the double doors of Fallons simple bedroom. She had a bed, mirrors, a dresser, and two other doors that led to a bathroom and a closet filled with items she was given by Nicholas. The colors were all soft and bland, something she hated as an artist who yearned to see life through color.
She had mentioned once how much she loved vibrancy when she and Nichloas were on a date at a local Museum, she wondered if he remembered that and this room was another way to make her miserable. It had been working quite well, she wanted to cut her palms and smear her blood across the beige walls for small glimpses of color.
"I see he had taken to my suggestion of sleeves to hide those imperfections." Her mother added as she circled Fallon. Her mother loved so much to remind her of the scar on her arm, the thing that had ruined her perfectly kept porcelain doll.
"It is a beautiful dress." Her voice fell flat, not even the maids who were paid to believe whatever they were told were convinced by them.

She was so tired of the pity she was given.

"Yes, he chose well. Now let us go find your fiance, he sent me to collect you." Her mother motions for the maids to leave and they quickly scurry away in a manner that reminds her of mice fleeing, how she wished she could follow after them and hide away like they so easily did.