I headed to bed later with a heavy heart and found Paris there waiting for me. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at his feet. I should have been afraid of him, but I craved his affection.
His love was ruthless, and I needed that at the moment.
I threw my arms around him and leaned my head against his chest. “You didn’t have to avoid me all day. I missed you!”
He held me close—this time with a caring and light touch rather than the aggressive one from last night. He sniffled a little and then sank to his knees on the floor. “I don’t deserve your kindness. What did I do to you last night? Tell me the truth.”
“You did nothing to me. Although, I am angry at you for destroying so many of my dresses! And don’t worry, I thought of a brilliant way to prove my love for you!”
He shook his head--astounded by my words. “Even now you are so sweet and kind. You don’t need to prove your love to me—that was such an awful thing for me to say. Please forgive me. I’m a cowardly and worthless man who can’t confront any of the problems in his life sober. You’d be better off if I were dead. Everyone would be.”
I gasped in horror. “Can’t you see that I’d be miserable without you? You’re so good and kind to me when you’re sober. What gives you the right to say I’d be better off without you? You’re one of the only people I have left to love.”
Paris pressed his forehead against my legs. “because my father and my siblings are better off without me. I hear news that they’re all doing better without me, and Ironwall as a whole is doing better without me. You’d do better without my abuse as well.”
“You have not abused me! You just need to stay away from wine and beer and those things that make a wonderful man into a monster.” I told him sincerely.
He was quiet for a moment before he murmured, “I turned to drinking so long ago, and now I don’t know how to stop.”
“Why did you turn to it?” I asked him. “What happened to you that you need it more than me?”
A tense silence hung over the room, but in a moment, Paris took a deep breath and told me.
“So many things turned me to it. My oldest brother Peter always made fun of how I was no good at swordplay or horse riding; he said I could never pass for a man. Even my middle brother who goes against scripture and flirts with boys was preferred to me, and for good reason. I was an odd child. Many people thought I lacked a soul because I spoke so little and was always so withdrawn around people. From the start, people avoided me and I heard them say they got a queasy feeling in their stomach around me.
“And then there were the punishments. Do you know the punishment my siblings got for being naughty? It was only harsh words. But in my case, Father would lock me in my room alone for hours on end with no one to talk to. At his cruelest he would leave me in there for a whole day and I would pound on the door and scream for anyone to let me out. Peter would often come by and taunt me. He jingled the keys outside of the door--mocking my pain.
“I was always paying for my mother’s mistake—she made a wicked child with a lowly knight who must have been equally wicked.” Paris leaned his head into my stomach as if begging mercy from a priest and clawed with trembling hands at my dress. I ran my hands through his hair and cried at his pain.
He continued after a moment, “She was an awful wife but a wonderful mother. Father spoiled her and loved her and gave her everything she wanted but she would never look him in the eyes. She would always want out of his hugs and she turned her nose up at his kisses. I wondered how a woman could be so cold until I met a few for myself and realized that all they wanted from me was gold, pretty jewels, and fine dresses. They hated me like everyone else did and I heard them whispering about me once they got what they wanted out of me.”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
I fell to my knees beside him and kissed his cheeks affectionately. “Your family should be ashamed of themselves! Nobody deserves such abuse! You shouldn’t care what they have to say--you should only care what your wife has to say! Of course you’re not perfect, but you still have love in your heart to give after being given none yourself! That is a precious thing!”
He leaned his head against my shoulder. “And here I find a woman who actually loves me and I treat her so poorly and give heed to idle gossip spread about you and a clueless fifteen-year-old. God I’m pathetic.”
I thought about who might have spread such gossip, and I realized that that witch Julia must have spread it out of spite before she left after all.
He was starved for love. I was too. I was tired of being hated by everyone but for a choice few. I was sick of being called a whore and a traitor and forever apologizing for a situation I never asked for.
Paris was one of the only good things to come out of it.
I grabbed the blanket I made him and draped it over his shoulders. He wiped away his tears with a chuckle and kissed me.
We both went to bed happy♡.
__
I woke up in the middle of the night with a horrible thought in my head.
Paris had the slaves pick up what was left of my wardrobe and had them straighten up the room which he had wrecked. I searched my wardrobe frantically for the dress Caerwyn had given me and found that it was still intact. I sighed gratefully and then crawled back into bed.
__
Even though Gerta said she would no longer mind scrubbing me down in the morning, Paris still wanted the job for himself. He got dressed first and had a slave come in and fill the tub with hot water. I climbed in and Paris looked very moody and lost in thought as he usually did while he scrubbed my fur with his mind elsewhere. I wanted to cheer him up.
“Look! I’m a fish!” I said and submerged myself below my oval eyes in water. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish unblinkingly.
Paris chuckled and scrubbed the top of my head. “You are far too pretty to be a fish!”
I giggled and popped out of the water while linking my arms behind his head. “Am I? Even Terry thinks I’m ugly…” I said and sniffled melodramatically.
“You, my dear, are the loveliest woman I’ve ever seen! You’re so lovely I want the whole world to know it! Which is why I will let you ride into the city whenever you want so long as you take Terry and Paul with you! …And you just got water all over me…”
I squealed cheerfully and hugged him tightly. “Truly?”
He gazed at me passionately and replied, “truly. And now I have to change my clothes…”
I giggled. “You should have done it naked like you did before! Off with those clothes!” I pawed at his tunic playfully.
“I should always remember to get you ready for the day before I do me.” He kissed my forehead. “After all, my day doesn’t start without you!”
He disrobed and I still had an impulse to look away shyly while he did.
Most girls wouldn’t think him the prettiest picture, but I did. He was very tall and very thin and it made him look very distinguished and interesting—like a giant stick insect!
I suddenly asked him, “wait, who’s Paul?”
“He’s a very old knight and a great friend of mine who followed me to Nui. He tried to teach me swordplay and he was always looking after me.” Paris explained. “Just promise me you’ll stay away from the lower city and any moth slaves. I don’t want peasants getting their mitts on you.”
“Of course!” I replied happily.
This was such a great stride in my plans. I still couldn’t get much done in meeting and talking with the moth slaves without Paul telling Paris, but at least I could speak to the humans and make good friends with them.
__
I met with Terry later in the day and he managed to get me the fuzzy white flower unscathed. He handed it to me and I smelled it with a peaceful smile on my face. There was no flower rarer or more comforting than the lovely fajurn.
“Did you see anything?” I asked. “Were there any wild mothmen?”
Terry shook his head. “Not that I saw.”
“Good,” I replied while dancing on my feet excitedly.
“Guess what Terry,” I said giddily. “You get to ride into the city with me!”
I am too excited my diary! I will write more later!