She is Juniper and she was a shadow at my mother’s side for many years, ready when Mother needed ice for her bruises, ready with a gentle voice after a harsh one, ready with fresh clothing and linens, as if she could make each day new simply by changing the bedsheets.
Juniper’s marriage was very different to Mother’s. Juniper was once married to a man who loved her and she loved him. Until he was killed. Callously and maliciously.
Now, she approaches me along the path, her face pale and hands shaking so violently that the basket rattles against her legs.
I remain silent, giving her only the slightest tilt of my head.
“Lord.” She bows before she fixes her focus on a point near my feet. “Does the Oracle need anything?”
I already ensured monthly provisions were brought to Thyra via a note left in one of the baskets the staff collected. The staff have taken care of Thyra’s laundry every day, provided the extra training suits she needed, brought fresh linens, and even learned what foods she prefers, seemingly based on how clean she licks the bowls.
But now, by asking me a question, Juniper not onlyrisksthat I’ll speak directly to her, she’srequestingthat I do so.
I consider my response carefully. “You have provided very well for the Oracle.”
Juniper raises her eyes to mine, her heart stuttering so badly, chances are high she might pass out.
“But, Lord…” Juniper swallows hard and gestures with her free hand at the Rose Room behind me. “Does she not wish for more than this?”
A snarl leaves my lips before I can stop it, a hum of sound that carries a sharp warning of my Lethian power.
Juniper stumbles back a step, appearing to forget she needs to leave the basket before she dumps it onto the path with a breathless, “Forgive me, Lord.”
Then she stops, hunches, and as Lilis did earlier, rallies. “Your mother hated it here.”
Juniper’s voice wavers so badly, it’s difficult to make out her words as she rushes on. “Why would you cage any woman here? Especially when you’re?—”
She gulps when I take a threatening step toward her.
Her heart, her breathing, her posture all tell me she’s terrified. As she should be.
Coldly, I ask, “When I’m what?”
She drags in a breath and her eyes fill with tears. “When you’re better than this.”
I’m struck still, sudden pain clawing at my chest.Fucking…damn.
How could Juniper say such a thing?
“After what I did,” I rasp, “you dare tell me I’mbetterthan this?”
“Yes.” She swipes at her cheeks, raking at her tears. “Even after what you did.”
I shake my head. “No.”
She reaches for me, daring to breach the gap between us. “When will you stop punishing yourself?”
Never.
I am heartless because I need to be.
When I first heard Thyra’s voice, her scream was preceded by an explosion of golden light that had nearly blinded me. In that moment, I felt agony. I was driven to the ground by theforce of love and hate and grief and happiness and warmth and terrifying need that the light brought with it.
A need for her I’ve been fighting for days.
A need to give her everything she desires and to hold nothing back.
In that moment, I convinced myself I had a right tofeelagain and now I’m reminded that I mustneverfeel again.
