The King's Cursed Bride

Healing

Author's Note: I was having trouble succinctly describing Viltus' home, so I thought you guys could use a picture. It's not an extensive sketch, but you get the idea ;)

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Though Viltus hadn't ventured far, by the time she reached him her chest was tight with the need for air. She tried to seam her lips and breathe through her nose, but her lips seemed to part of their own accord as she gulped mouthful after mouthful of air.

Though she could only glimpse the left half of his face, she saw his lips quirk into a smirk.

"You didn't last long, I see."

She crinkled her nose, beginning to doubt any protection he afforded her would be worth his snide comments. "I'll come so long as I'm your wife in name only."

His blue gaze flicked up to the sky, and his eyes darkened with the clouds' smoky dark gray. "Hmm. Will you make me food?"

She frowned. That only seemed fair, especially since he got little else out of the bargain. "Alright."

"And launder my clothes?"

She sighed. It seemed that just because she'd fled from home didn't mean she'd escaped domestic chores. "Very well."

"And massage my feet?" Her face twisted in disgust, and his laugh echoed down the alley.

She tossed a quick glance behind them. What if her attacker heard his laughter?

"That chore you don't find as appealing, hmm?"

She shrugged and faced forward, satisfied the alley was filled with naught but crates of supplies, scattered trash, and scampering rats. "Well, I'll do what I must." Her gaze shot to his. "Excluding... particular activities."

His smile broadened as he shook his head. The alley ended, turning into one of the city's main streets. Viltus strode into the street his free arm swinging slightly while the other clutched his robe, still bundled against his side.

Carissa jerked to a halt as her gaze swerved left and right from the safety of the alley. A man with too-thin teeth and a too-wide grin sauntered past, tugging a wheeled stand behind him filled with clanking pots and pans. A knight marched the other way, gaze focused on his destination, as if the people around him were invisible. Was it safe for her to wander the streets so freely? Would her attacker still be looking for her?

"Carissa!" Viltus arched his eyebrows as he waited in the middle of the street, the crowd flowing around him.

She drew her hood above her head, hunched her shoulders, and scampered to where he was.

To her surprise, his palm slid into hers, his callouses brushing against her skin, before he guided her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Cease your hunching. You look more conspicuous."

She slowly straightened her spine and pushed her shoulders back. They strode across the street together, occasionally stopping to wait for a horse to gallop past them lest they be trampled.

They approached a cluster of horses on the side of the street. Each horse was fastened to a wooden pole by a rope tied onto its bridle. Their reins rested at the base of their sloping necks.

Viltus nudged a few away with gentle pushes to reveal Freckles.

A scrawny preteen boy shoveled horse dung into a bucket, his movements slower than cold honey.

Viltus flipped a coin towards the boy.

The boy stiffened before snatching the coin from the air and clutching it to his chest. He swung around at them, knuckles whitening, as if he feared they snatch it back from him just as quickly.