“And yet,” he continued, looking to the priest, “I know her actions cannot go unpunished. What does God’s law require?”
“She will be flogged and her hair shorn,” the priest announced.
“No,” Alina pleaded. “I left Rodderick for my own safety. He hurt me—”
“As is within his right,” the priest interrupted, his voice getting quiet so only Alina could hear his words. “As any good husband would when his wife will not heed the word of God and subject herself to him.”
He glared down at her with disgust in his eyes, so certain of his own righteousness that he could not spare an ounce of empathy for her. He waved his hand and Alina’s arms were pulled behind her back. “Twenty lashes, as the law requires.”
Alina screamed, pulling away from those who held her arms. They thrust her into the middle of the square and a pair of shears was brought forward and handed to Rodderick.
“I tried to save you, Alina. If only you had listened and humbled yourself. I do this for the sake of your soul. May you find redemption by the grace of God.”
And with that he pulled at Alina's hair and clipped a long strand away, letting it fall to the mud. Alina didn’t fight now. She cowered in on herself as arms pressed against her body. Rodderick knelt over her, cutting off the pale hair he had lauded as if letting her know that if he couldn’t have it, no one could. As each piece was cut away, Alina could begin to feel the air on her neck and the cold seeped further and further into her bones.
When all her hair was gone—shorn in uneven chunks—Rodderick discarded the shears and Alina was pulled to her feet.
Her eyes refused to focus on anything before her. Hands pulled at her dress, unlacing the back and pulling the fabric aside, readying her for the whip. She stood there, shivering and humiliated, as her tyrant husband stepped forward to speak to her one last time.
“Remember the pain,” he said, and his voice was calm now. “Remember it and beg God for the salvation of your soul.”
And with that he turned away, leaving Alina to the crowd for her last punishment to be administered.
Chapter Fourteen
Cold water splashed onto Edward’s face pulling him to consciousness. The pain quickly returned and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. When it settled to a constant, agonizing ache, he could only groan, wishing it would all go away. He felt the knots around his ankles loosen and the rope was pulled away, but the thick cloth that gagged his mouth was not removed. Arms dragged him to his feet and lifted him up a short flight of stairs. His feet moved feebly and he stumbled, nearly falling in his weakened state. The men on either side of him yanked him into a standing position again.
He focused for a moment, trying to remember where he was or how he had gotten there, but all he could remember was the fight in the entryway and being thrown onto the back of a horse. The pain had been too much for him and the only other memories he had were short moments of looking at the ground and being shoved down these same stairs.
As the men pushed Edward forward, the ground blurred beneath his eyes and it took all of his focus just to keep moving one foot in front of the other. He was marched into a village square, through mud and dirty snow. When he finally managed to raise his head a little, he could see a gallows. They had been hastily constructed—probably just for him.
The sight was so similar to the nightmares he’d often had since the curse took hold, and now that he was staring it in the face, it didn’t terrify him. It felt as if he had known all along that this was how it would end.
The day was bleak and cold, but that hadn’t stopped the villagers from filling the square to gawk at him. The crowd pressed in on him from all sides, some even throwing snow and rotten food as he passed. His eyes scanned the crowds for Alina, but she was nowhere to be seen. That was all he cared about. He needed to see her. Needed to know that she was safe.
He was marched up the gallows where Rodderick stood waiting, holding the rope in his hands. The priest stood there too, calmly watching as Edward took his place beneath the noose. The pain surged again and his body went rigid. Too weak to stand, he crumpled to his knees, fighting the blackness as it crept into the corners of his eyes.
“At least die with some dignity,” Rodderick hissed in his ear. He grabbed Edward’s arm and hoisted him back to his feet, holding him there so the crowds could see his face.
The priest raised his hands to the crowd, quieting them.
“This man has been found guilty of sorcery, dark magic and the casting of spells, adultery, impersonating a member of nobility, and theft of a horse. All of these sins are an affront to God and must be punished. This man will be hung from the neck until dead. May God have mercy on his soul.”
So this was his end. The conclusion of his curse. Perhaps this was the end his father had intended all along. He was to die anonymously with no one to mourn him or even realize what they had done. No one except Alina.
His eyes landed on the crowd again and there in the front he could see her, held by her arms, forced to stand and watch him die. He almost didn’t recognize her. Her beautiful hair had been cut short and there were tears streaming down her face. As he stood there and saw the fear and sorrow in her eyes, he realized everything that he would be missing. He would never get the chance to thank her for how much she had changed him, reminding him of the man he once was. He’d never be able to tell her that he wanted her to stay with him forever. Her presence had brought light back into his house and his life.
She blinked fresh tears onto her cheeks as their eyes met.
“I love you,” she mouthed over the noise of the crowd.
A harsh wind blew through the square whipping icy snow among the townspeople. Rodderick raised the noose and placed it around Edward’s neck. He scoffed as he released his arm, mocking his lack of strength as if waiting for him to fall to his knees again.
But Edward wasn’t paying attention. He only looked at Alina, trying to tell her with his eyes that he would be alright, that he had accepted his end, and he was sorry he had to leave her with these men. That he loved her.
Then he closed his eyes, lifting his head to the sky.
A warmth spread over his shoulders. He waited for death, for the rope around his neck to be pulled tight, for the cheers of the crowd as the life seeped from him. Instead, he felt nothing at all.
Nothing except the light of the sun as it shone through a break in the clouds. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from him. The pain was gone and a hush swept over the crowd.
Edward opened his eyes. The sun was casting its midmorning rays down into the square below. Lowering his gaze to the people, he noticed their expressions. One by one, recognition washed over the crowd. Even with his scars, they knew who he was—who he had been all along.
After ten long years, the curse was finally broken.
Several of the villagers fell to their knees, the shame of what they had done overwhelming them. Others bowed their heads and whispered softly. After a moment, one man in the crowd called for Edwards release and other voices soon joined in.
“Your Grace,” the priest said quietly, stumbling over his words. “I did not recognize you.”
He motioned for Rodderick to untie his hands and remove the noose and gag. When he was free, Edward took a staggering step forward and looked out over the crowd. The people went silent, waiting for him to speak.
He had never been good with words. His father had been charismatic and always knew what to say, but all Edward could tell them was the plain truth, free of embellishment. He looked to each of their faces as he spoke.
“These lands and their people have been neglected for far too long. I was cursed—put under a spell by dark magic—and prevented from caring for the people, an act which I hope to rectify. This woman,” he said gesturing to Alina, “saved my life and is innocent of any crime. But we cannot ignore the other crimes that have been committed here. If you love your king and trust his appointments, you cannot let traitors go
free. These men attempted to hang a duke in his own lands. Neither of them have the authority to enforce the laws and I was not even given a proper trial. They have committed treason and must be taken to the king, to stand trial and be done with as His Majesty sees fit.”
Edward turned to look at Rodderick. His head was high and his expression was angry, but there was nothing he could do to Edward anymore. With a rush forward, Edward pulled back his fist and thrust it into Rodderick’s jaw, satisfied when the man crumpled to his side on the wooden steps. The man had abused Alina and treated her worse than one of his horses, as if she was a pet he could possess. Edward had wanted to hurt him for a long time.
Stepping over where Rodderick sprawled on the steps, Edward descended the gallows and rushed to Alina's side. The crowds swarmed the platform, turning so easily on the men they had blindly followed just moments before.
As the people bustled past them, Edward took her hand and pulled her out of the square, around the corner and away from the shouting. The villagers barely gave them a second glance, all eager to see the commotion surrounding Rodderick and the priest.
He pulled her down another street and when they were finally alone, he pulled her into his arms. She cried out in pain and pulled away from him.
“Alina. What have they done to you?”
The tears hadn’t stopped falling from her eyes and she glanced away from him. That’s when he saw the stripes on her back, a little blood seeping through the back of her tattered dress. She hadn’t even been given a cloak to fight off the cold. Fury surged through him. She looked so small as she stood before him, wounded, with salt streaked cheeks, her short hair sticking out at odd angles where it had been cut. They had humiliated her and broken her spirit. He was the one who had been cursed. She was never supposed to get hurt.
He wanted to rush back into the square and confront every villager who had sat by and watched Alina whipped. Instead he tried to quell his anger. He needed to take her away from this place.
“Come with me,” he said, clasping her hand into his and leading her further from the shouting mob.
❄ ❄ ❄
Alina stared up at the man in front of her. The way he spoke was different now, with a timbre of confidence and power that had never been there before.
He was a duke once again.
“I’ll take you back to the mountain,” he said. “Far away from here.”
Before the mob could find them again, they made their way to Rodderick’s stables, finding Gladstone in his stall where he had been returned the night before. The horse seemed glad to see them. Edward quickly saddled the animal as Alina watched, then mounted it, pulling her up behind him.
The sun was out in full force now, the clouds fading as it neared noon. As they rode up the hillside and toward the treeline, Alina looked back to the village where the mob could still be heard.
“Hold onto me,” Edward said, guiding the horse through the snow, searching for the road back. She was glad that Edward had found his strength because she seemed to have lost all of hers.
They soon found tracks in the snow and followed them until they reached the overgrown road. Alina wrapped her arms around Edward’s waist and leaned against his back, letting her head rest between his broad shoulders. The wind was cold on her head, her short hair tousled uncomfortably by the breeze. She shivered against him and Edward looked back at her promising that they’d soon be in front of a warm fire with hot food.
They passed the outer walls of the manor, through the ruined gates which lay twisted and pulled away from the stone. Edward guided the horse to the stables and then dismounted and helped Alina down. He pulled her close—careful not to touch the whip marks that graced her skin—and kissed her fiercely like he’d never have the chance again.
“I thought you were lost to me,” Alina cried when he finally pulled away. She looked up at him as she spoke. “I thought that I would have to watch you die.”
“It’s alright,” he said, his eyes filled with tenderness. “We’re both safe. And we’re home now. And you will never have to go back to that village again.”
Alina couldn’t make sense of her emotions and leaned into his chest, finally letting herself feel relief. She had come so close to losing him forever.
They made their way inside, up the stairs to his chambers.
“Where is your mother?” Alina asked. “I expected to see fabrics as soon as we crossed through the gate.”
“She was there to fight against the mob.”
“Will she be back?” Alina asked.
“I don’t know,” Edward answered. “The spell is broken now and she has fulfilled her promise. We can only hope.”
He helped her to the bed and sat beside her, carefully unfastening her stays and pulling them aside. Alina cringed as the fabric stuck to her wounds, hoping that they felt worse than they were.
With delicate fingers, Edward slipped the dress off her shoulders, pulling the cloth away from her back. He examined the injuries, assuring her that they were not deep. After retrieving a pitcher of water, he returned with clean cloths and began to gently dab at what little blood marked her skin. The cool water soothed her aching wounds.
“When the curse was broken and the crowds realized the truth,” Alina said, looking over her shoulder to where Edward worked, “the same recognition overwhelmed me too. I understand the things you told me about your past. I know who you are in a way that is deeper than just knowing your name.”
Edward’s hands slowed.
“Alina. Did you mean what you mouthed to me when we were in the square?”
“That I love you?” she asked, and he nodded. She turned her head so that she could look at him, clutching her dress to cover herself. “I don’t know when it happened, perhaps gradually with every day I came to know you, but I do love you. More than I thought possible.”
He smiled and kissed the back of her neck, whispering the words back to her just before his lips touched her skin.
When her wounds were clean, Edward wrapped them in clean strips of cloth and helped Alina loosely fasten her stays over the bandages. Then he retrieved a pair of scissors to help straighten out her hair, cutting away the uneven bits. Alina tried not to look sorrowful. It was just hair and it would grow back, even if she would wear her mark of shame for months to come.
Edward must have noticed her expression because he paused his cutting and raised a hand to her cheek, turning her face to look at him. He spoke softly as he looked her in the eyes.
“You are still my Persephone,” he said. “My beautiful Alina.”
❄ ❄ ❄
Edward found a little food in the kitchens. When he returned to his chambers, Alina was sitting by the fire with her knees pulled up to her chest. He looked at her bandaged back and short hair, wishing that he’d been able to stop her from being hurt. At least she was with him and the curse was broken. He’d be able to protect her now.
After building up the fire again, he pulled the blankets from the bed and wrapped them around Alina. She looked exhausted and didn’t protest when he sat down beside her and gathered her into his arms. With the heat of the fire basking over them, she settled against him and closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed and he felt the tension leave her body as she drifted off to sleep.
The worst of it was over. There would be confusion about the curse, and questions that he would do his best to avoid. He’d most likely be summoned to court to answer them anyway. But for now, Alina was safe and sleeping in his arms.
As he lay beside her, a handkerchief fluttered in front of their position by the fire. Edward turned his head to see a few shawls and other cloths drifting about the room. He carefully removed his arms from Alina and stood. A scarf drifted into his hands.
“I was scared that you were gone,” he said as the fabrics swirled about him.
Hearing his voice, Alina awoke and, seeing that life had returned to the cloths, rose and stood behind him.
A scarf drifted to the hea
rth and wrote on the ash covered stones.
It is time for me to leave you.
A lump rose in Edward’s throat. The shawls drifted together and unfolded into a sheer fabric that draped elegantly in the air as if it had settled over the form of a woman. The corners fluttered and moved as though tousled by a breeze, but there was no wind in the room. Edward extended his hand and one of the corners of the fabric fluttered down to rest against his palm.
He hadn’t wanted this moment to come, even though he knew that it must. There was so much he wanted to say.
“Thank you,” he said simply. “For staying with me and keeping me from the darkness. For encouraging me and never giving up on me, no matter how low I had fallen or what kind of beast I had become.”
It seemed too soon to say goodbye. There were still so many things he wanted her to see. She’d been with him through the worst of his life and now that it was over, she would miss whatever came next. He wanted her to see him grow into the man she had always believed he could be. She deserved to see him married and watch her grandchildren play in the garden among her roses.
A tear slipped onto his cheek and the silhouette of his mother extended an arm toward his face and a hem of cloth brush against his skin, wiping the tear away.
“I love you,” he said. The fabrics enveloped him with their soft edges, pressing against him in a warm embrace.
Somehow he knew that everything was alright. The moment was sorrowful and his heart was breaking, but his mother was moving on. Her soul would finally be at peace knowing that the cruelty of her husband had not ruined her son.
When the fabrics pulled back, a corner reached out to Alina who ran her fingers against it.
“Thank you for everything,” Alina said with tears in her eyes.
The cloth wrapped around her fingers and then around Edward’s and guided their hands together until they were touching.
The sheer fabric fluttered to the floor before the cloth separated into a hundred strands. More fabric appeared and began moving through the air, curling itself around both of them. Edward held Alina’s hands in his and lifted his eyes to the room.
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