(Tilly Ann)
An hour later, I was standing outside my parents' bedroom door, listening to the quiet sounds inside.
Someone was giggling. My father.
Twenty-three years of marriage and they still sounded like teenagers in love. I leaned against the door and listened some more to the sound. Smiling to myself.
I wondered briefly if I would have that with Chase Or will it be twenty three years of finding new ways to torture each other.
Twenty three years of wondering what his cock was doing, if it was inside some blonde or brunette.
If he still viewed me as someone only good for storeroom sex. A loose whore.
It made my own heart feel like a stone in my chest.
The door to their inner chamber opened, and my mother slipped out. She saw me standing there and smiled, but it faded when she saw my face.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, closing the door softly behind her. "You stopped spontaneously visiting our bedchambers when you turned fourteen and discovered we weren't fun anymore."
I managed a weak laugh. "Oh, sweet, naive Mother. You were never fun."
Aurora Winchester threw a silver hairbrush at me. I jumped aside just in time.
"Who is it?!" my father's voice boomed from inside.
"Our daughter, my love! I will be with you shortly!" Mother called back, never taking her eyes off me.
I realized I was interrupting. This was their private time. I took a step back. "I should go."
"Tilly," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "What is bothering you? Tell Mama"
The question hung in the air. All the confusion, the shame, the angry words from Chase collided in my head.
"Am I a bad person, Mama?" The words fell out in a rush. "I think I am. I am not the good girl you believe me to be. If you knew me, really know me... I think you'd be ashamed of me"
Mother's whole face changed. The queen vanished, and in her place was just… my mom. Her eyes filled with instant, deep concern. She took my hands.
"Why would you ever say that about yourself?"
Because I want things proper girls shouldn't want. Because I get excited by things that would make you faint.
Because Chase was right. I liked our store room tryst and the reading table pussy suck.
I liked it very much... almost too much.
He might be right.
Maybe I am the 'fucked behind the secret door' type of girl. A private whore. Nothing like the immaculate princess everyone expects. Maybe I am the rotten thing he says I am.
"Never mind," I whispered, pulling my hands away. "It's stupid."
I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.
"You are stubborn," she stated.
I flinched.
"Pig-headed," she continued, taking a step closer. "A little wild for my liking…"
"Fuck, Mama, I feel so much worse," I muttered, my throat tight.
"You swear like a sailor," she said, now right in front of me. She cupped my chin, forcing me to look at her. My eyes were glittering with tears I refused to shed.
"A nasty habit you won't give up. You would rather hunt boars than knit or cook or do any one of the million things girls are supposed to do."
I just stared at her.
"You are really not what I envisioned for a daughter, Tilly Ann Winchester," she said softly.
I blinked and tears fell on my cheek.
I tried to look down, but she held my face.
"Yet I will set this entire world on fire for you, my daughter because you are so much more, Maltida."
I blinked.
"I am?"
"You have the biggest heart I have ever seen," she whispered, her own eyes shining. "Your kindness is only rivaled by the Creator herself. You are brave. You are strong. You are protective and loyal to a fault. You are not bad. You are the opposite of bad."
Then she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a hug so tight it squeezed the air from my lungs. I buried my face in her shoulder and cried, just for a second.
"And we are proud of you, Chicken." My father's voice came from the doorway.
I pulled back, wiping my face with a laugh. "Don't call me that ridiculous girlhood name!"
He walked over and kissed the top of my head. "And I know these past few days have been hard for you. Believe me, I always thought all of my children will marry for love but this war with the Greek fairies, it's..."0
You would tell us if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
"I'm fine," I said, the lie easier now that I felt their love like a shield.
My mother looked at my father, her queen-face returning. "Adonis, I think we should call off the marriage. She's only eighteen. We can wait two more years."
"No!" The word burst out of me, sharper than I intended. "Don't! I can do this, Mother. There's no better match. Hellsgate will be a great ally. They're willing to give us everything—support against the Greek fairies, everything. I can do this."
I saw the relief wash over their faces. The terrible choice between their child's happiness and their kingdom's safety was, for a moment, put aside.
"Okay," my father said, nodding. "But I have insisted you stay here until after your Dragon Bonding Ceremony. If I'm sending you to the wolves, you go with a live dragon at your side, Chicken."
"Father, it's really not a prob—"
"It's not a conversation, Tilly," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You will marry Chase Dubois after the ceremony and only if it's proven that he can father children"
I nodded, said a quick goodbye, and left their room.
I had one more stop to make. One more conversation to be had.
My feet carried me to the guest chambers. I didn't think. I just knocked hard on his door.
It opened. There he was, sitting in that damned wheelchair, looking up at me.
"You were right. I am not storybooked. Pretty dresses and dolls aren't my cup of tea. I liked being finger fucked in the damn storeroom and sucked on the reading table. Maybe I am the I can't-wait-to-take-you-behind-the-secret-door type of girl, after all" My voice was calmer than steel.
It was a surprise to me.
"But that is not all I am, Chase. I am a complicated beautiful mess. I want flowers and romance, and stupid poems under my door. I want..." I smiled to myself. "... everything"
"Matilda"
"Everything, Chase Dubois. Everything or nothing at all"
I didn't even know I was crying until I felt the wet on my cheek.
"What if..." He cleared his throat, looking down on his feet. "What if I'm incapable of giving you both? What if you have to choose?"
I shrugged. "Then I want nothing from you. And we will spend the next twenty three years or so, being the perfect strangers, Mr. Dubois"
I waited for him to say something. I don't know. Maybe I wanted Chase Dubois to offer me the sun and the moon and everything in between but he offered none.
"Alright. Nothing, it is" I said, tears, hot and angry, spilled over. I didn't let him speak. I just turned and stormed away.
"Matilda!" he called after me.
I heard the quick whir of his wheelchair behind me, but I was faster. I flew into my room and slammed the door shut, locking it.
A moment later, a knock. A soft, hesitant knock.
"Matilda." His voice was muffled by the wood.
I didn't answer. I slid down the back of the door, hugging my knees to my chest, crying in the way you do when you're just so tired of being confused and angry and hurt.
"Matilda." He sounded desperate. He must have heard me crying. "Matilda. I am..."
There was a long silence. Then, the sound of his forehead resting against the door. A quiet, defeated thud.
"I..." he said, his voice so low I almost couldn't hear it. "Can't"
After what felt like forever, I heard the soft whir of his wheels as he turned and rolled slowly away, leaving me alone.