I winced as he wrapped one arm around my back; the other, he slid under my knees. He lifted me in his arms and gently placed me on his side of the bed, covering me with a thin blanket. He placed his palms on the crown of my head. His touch replaced suffering with godsent relief as he drove the hammering pain away. Its tender caress almost put me to immediate sleep. I closed my eyes and sighed.
“Sleep,” he whispered, gently grazing my jaw. “I’ll be right back.”
I grabbed his hand with the little force I had left. “Don’t leave me,please.”
He knelt at my side, his hand still in mine.
“I will never leave you,” I may have heard him whisper right before I drifted off into a realm without dreams.
CHAPTER 32
Iwoke up to daylight.
My hand, I found, was resting on top of Aegir’s. He was fast asleep, half lying on the carpet, his head tilted against the mattress.
I glimpsed Galen-the-stuffed-creature on the bedside table, and to my surprise, I managed to show half a smirk. I wrapped the blanket around me and winced as I got out of bed, careful not to put too much pressure on my left knee. A jar of water and a bowl of green grapes caught my attention, so I limped in their direction before heading to the bathing chamber.
I desperately needed to wash myself. I needed to wash away that pig’s disgusting touch from my skin. The thought of Mounir forcing himself against me risked the reappearance of the few grapes I had just eaten.
But first, I needed to look at myself.
I stopped a few steps shy of the tall mirror. I swallowed hard. I silently counted to three before letting the blanket pool around my feet. My lips pursed at what he had done to me. My face, my neck, my breast, marked and bruised. And as the torn dress fell to the floor, I grimaced at the sight of my swollen knee. My arms wrapped around my belly in hollow comfort. Then I realised that looking at myself unclothed wasn’t what made me feel naked. My fingers rose to my bare neck. Seething thoughts and emotions—raw with anger, rage, and hate—filled my heart.
But then I took another step forward and really looked at myself.
Yes, I was bruised and injured. Yes, I was humiliated and robbed. But I was also alive. I was untouched. I could see less bones and more muscles now—they showed beneath my sun-kissed skin. Regular meals and weeks of intense training did much more for my body than I had ever expected them to.
I defended myself. I fought for myself. I stopped him. I escaped and I survived. And for that, pride and strength filled my chest, replacing the weaving threads of poisoned darkness.
I let go of my hair ribbon and moved towards the bath. I dipped my toes in and thanked the gods that the water’s temperature was just perfect. I should have thanked Aegir for it, though. As I took my second step down the stairs, I glimpsed it—the red dress. Aegir must have left it on the dresser for me, just as he had left the grapes and water.
I gingerly lowered myself into the bath, a bittersweet sensation of ease and pain suffusing me. Then I submerged myself. The room was already quiet, yet the silence beneath the surface of the water brought me some sort of serene peace that I couldn’t quite explain.
I poured a vial of lavender soap onto my palm and scrubbed myself from head to smallest toe. I imagined his unwanted touch washed away, turning into nothingness as it dissolved in the soapy water. Then I remained sprawled in the bath for long minutes…until…
Until I saw it.
Next to the red dress, my necklace! My mother’s necklace.
I hurried towards the dresser, leaving a trail of dripping water in my path.
My hand trembled as I lifted my necklace. I pressed the pendant in my clenched fist, eyes closed. I moved towards thetall mirror and wore it proudly, my neck feeling a sense of relief and restoration, a sense of wholeness.
I hastily patted myself dry, then snatched the red dress, struggling and grunting when having to put pressure on my left knee. I didn’t bother with the hair; I left it dripping and unbound.
“Aegir,” I breathed, briskly limping out of the chamber.
“Cordelia.” My name sounded tense on his lips. “Are you all right?” He hurried his way around the desk, rushing towards me. He halted a few steps away.
“You—you got it back.” An exhale left my lungs and I touched the grey pendant with my fingertips. I waited for him to say something, but he just stood there, staring, unmoving. Then I asked him, my voice on the verge of breaking, “Do I look that bad?”
My question seemed to jerk him out of whichever thoughts had him frozen. “What? No. You look…you look absolutely breathtaking…and your hair…it’s—it’s very long.”
“It is,” I murmured, fidgeting with its damp ends. I struggled to keep his gaze. “Thank you for getting it back.” He nodded, I think.
“I—I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I should have protected you.”
I finally met his stare and in a quiet voice, I told him, “But you were…there. Aegir, it was your voice that spoke into my ears. Your voice that guided me.”
