Chapter 52
A week had passed since Cecilia and I reunited. Millicent had not come. I had basked in the fleeting illusion of freedom, cherishing every moment unburdened by her presence. But, as fate would have it, the door creaked open, and there she stood.
I remained reclined upon the bed, propped up by pillows, my expression a perfect mask of nothingness. No flicker of anger, no glimmer of welcome, simply nothing.
The silence between us stretched. I watched as she faltered in the doorway, hesitation flickering across her face before she stepped forward. I let my gaze drag over her, noting the slight tremble in her fingers, the way she clenched the fabric of her dress as if to keep herself grounded.
She came to a stop beside the bed, her presence an unwelcome shadow over me. "I miss you so very much," she whispered.
Oh, you miss me? Truly? How splendid. Did you pine for me while I lay in filth, my body wasting away in a cell you so conveniently placed me in? Was it longing that filled you as you signed the orders for my interrogation, as you allowed your soldiers to carve their cruelty into my skin?
My bitterness coiled through my mind, but my face gave away nothing.
She stood there, waiting, hoping for a response. But what words could I offer? What sentiment could pass between us now that would not be a mockery of what once was? No, her words did not stir me. They only deepened the abyss between us.
Then, as though summoned by fate itself, my gaze lifted, and there Cecila was. Standing at the threshold, hesitance woven into every fiber of her being. Her large, dark eyes flickered between Millicent and me, as if unsure whether she had interrupted something irreparable. My heart stirred at the sight of her, my lips curved into a smile, bright and real.
A flicker of light sparked in Millicent's crimson eyes.
Ah, how cruel, that she mistook it for her. That for a brief, fleeting moment, she dared to hope. But I did not smile for her.
Millicent turned her head, following my gaze.
Cecilia bowed. "Greetings, Your Grace."
My smile did not wane. It was an involuntary thing, born from the one presence in my life that had never faltered, never betrayed me. Cecilia was the only certainty left in my world, the only hand I could take without fear of it striking me down.
My gaze flickered to the small box in her hands, and I tilted my head, teasing. "What is that you are holding?"
Millicent remained silent, yet I could feel her staring, watching the way I lit up for Cecilia, the way I so easily dismissed her existence.
Cecilia hesitated before lifting the box slightly. "It is fish soup, My Lady… your favorite."
"Come here. Are you afraid of the demon in the room?"
Cecilia's gaze darted between us, her fingers tightening around the box. "But… Her Grace…"
I did not let her finish. "Do not be afraid of the demon," I said, still smiling. "Come here." I reached out for her.
Cecilia hesitated only a moment longer before she rushed to my side. I took the box from her hands and set it aside. The next moment, I pulled her into my arms. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the faint trace of lavender soap, the warmth of her skin, the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath my touch.
Cecilia's fingers clutched at my back. "You have finally gained some weight. But you must eat more, My Lady."
I chuckled softly. "I am," I assured her. "Before long, I shall be strong enough to carry you. Princess style, no less."
Cecilia pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, amusement dancing in her dark eyes. "You jest too much, My Lady. I would never allow you to hurt yourself in such a foolish endeavor. Perhaps I should carry you princess style instead?"
I pulled her into a tight squeeze, laughter bubbling from my lips. "If I could eat you, I would!" I declared. "That way, you would be with me forever!"
"My Lady! That is a truly dreadful thought!" Cecilia gasped between chuckles, then, with an impish glint in her eyes, she added, "Actually, if you ate me, I would not be with you forever at all. Eventually, I would become waste, and you would have no choice but to-"
I gasped. "Cecilia!"
We both burst into laughter, our mirth filling the space like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. I pulled her onto the bed with me, wrapping my arms around her as we continued to giggle like mischievous children.
"I never thought you capable of saying such a thing!" I exclaimed between breaths. "This might be a historic moment, a feat worthy of record, for surely only I have ever spoken with such audacity!"
Cecilia, still chuckling, reached for a strand of my hair and began twisting it between her fingers, a habit as old as our time together. "I merely wished to try it once. There shall be no next time," she mused, her lips curling into a playful smile. "You should mark this moment in time, My Lady."
"Indeed, I shall," I grinned. "What you have said shall be etched into my memory for eternity."
And so our teasing continued, each jest lighter than the last, weaving a warmth between us that nothing could pierce.
Millicent remained standing there. Each time Cecilia remembered her presence, her body stiffened, her joy momentarily disrupted. And each time, I would speak another jest, another tease, drawing her attention back to me, away from the weight that loomed in the room. If Millicent wished to stand there in silence, so be it. She would not ruin this moment for me. For who knew how long I had left before I was dragged back to that cold cell?