Chapter Nine – Sorina
Chapter Nine
Sorina
Julie’s knife scrapes down the stem of a dried rosemary sprig, stripping the leaves into a bowl.
I tie twine around my bundle of lavender, pull it tight, and set it on the shelf with the others.
The back room of the apothecary is tidy and bright, with a wide window carved straight through the mountain wall.
The sheer curtains lift and fall with the breeze coming in from outside, and the light that fills the room makes everything look sharp.
“So,” Julie says, not looking up from her work, “how are things going with Korr?”
I shrug.
“Fine. Everything’s fine.”
She rolls her eyes.
“What does that even mean? We’re friends now, you can give me details.” She sets the rosemary down and leans forward on the worktable, knife still in hand. “Is he a good kisser?”
My face goes hot, and I shake my head.
“I don’t know. We haven’t kissed.”
Julie’s mouth drops open. She puts her knife down and crosses her arms over her chest.
“You’ve been together for a week! Not even a peck on the lips?” She waits. “On the cheek?”
“No.”
“Nothing? Not once?”
“Not once.”
“What are you two doing, then?”
“We sleep in separate rooms,” I say and reach for the next bundle of herbs because it gives my hands something to do.
“And we talk sometimes. We talked today, actually, about gemstones and spirituality. He has this old book about the spiritual meaning of different stones.” I wrap the twine twice and snip the end. “It was nice.”
“Nice.” Julie repeats the word in an unimpressed tone. “Korr is more than nice, come on. All the women in the Narrowhalls think he’s one of the hottest golems in Steinheim. Why do you think they gossip about him so much?”
That catches me off guard.
“They do?”
“All the time.” Julie picks up her knife again and waves it in a lazy circle.
“I thought they gossiped because of all the wives.”
“That too. But mostly…” She taps the flat of the blade on the table. “They say he’s kind, a little shy, but that’s only endearing. He’s strong, obviously. And, well… good-looking.”
I stare at her.
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“You should know better than anyone,” Julie says. “You’re his wife.”
“Current wife,” I say. “Who’s to say I won’t end up like the others?”
Julie puts the knife down. The way she plays with the thing is starting to make me feel uncomfortable. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and when she does, her voice is quieter than usual, which for Julie still isn’t very quiet.
“I don’t think that will happen. Unless that’s what you want. Korr doesn’t seem like the kind of man who keeps a woman tied to him against her will. I think the others didn’t really want to be with him, or the spark wasn’t there, so he let them go.”
“If he’s as desirable as you say,” I tell her, “then that story doesn’t hold up.”
Julie picks the knife back up and points it at the ceiling while she talks. My eyes stay fixed to its sharp tip.
“Honestly? I don’t know that much about Korr.
Or about golems in general. Even though we share this city with them, they keep to themselves.
They hold their secrets close.” She goes back to stripping another rosemary stem.
“That’s half the reason there’s so much gossip and speculation.
Nobody actually knows anything, so everyone fills in the blanks. ”
I think about that while I tie the next bundle.
Korr is tall, broad, and strong. Those are qualities that would make any man worth looking at, and I can admit that much to myself.
It was nice talking to him this morning, sitting across the table while he read to me from that old, weird book.
He’s good company. And if I were ready to think about a man that way, he wouldn’t be a bad choice.
But after Bran, I haven’t been interested.
The part of me that used to want that went dormant sometime during the first few months of my marriage, and I haven’t considered trying to reawaken it.
“What do you think about Vicky?” I ask.
Julie glances at me, and I can tell she knows I changed the subject on purpose, but she lets it go. She pulls a new rosemary sprig from the pile between us and starts stripping it.
“Vicky comes in here a lot to buy creams and tinctures for aches. She claims she has headaches and back pain all the time.”
“You know that’s not it.”
“Everyone knows. But Vicky doesn’t want to leave Noah.
” She scrapes the leaves harder than she needs to.
“She was one of the first brides Korr brought to Steinheim, and when she moved down to the Narrowhalls, she met Noah and they got married. They were so in love. I remember when they first got together, you couldn’t separate them. ”
The breeze picks up through the window and the curtains billow inward. The fresh air is so nice, and I turn my head to let it swipe over my forehead.
“I don’t know what happened,” she says. “Noah changed. And then bruises started showing up on Vicky. Never on her face, though. She wears long dresses with long sleeves all the time, even when it’s warm.”
I wait for her to continue.
“She loves him still,” Julie says. “Always finds excuses for him. He was tired, he was drinking, she shouldn’t have said what she said…
Blah, blah, blah. You know… that sort of thing.
We used to tell her to leave him. We tried and tried to convince her, but eventually, we stopped, because she wouldn’t hear it. ”
The jar of rosemary leaves is full, and she screws the lid on.
“My mom and I keep an eye on her. We watch to make sure it doesn’t get too bad, but we can’t do anything if she won’t accept help. And if we push too hard, she stops coming out of the house for days. That’s worse, so we leave her alone.”
“It’s not right,” I say.
Julie looks at me the way someone does when they’ve already figured a thing out and waited for the right moment to say it.
“I noticed the marks on your face when you first came in here.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore,” I say. “That’s all done now. My past won’t catch up with me here.” I finish the last bundle and add it to the row on the shelf. “I got out. And I helped other women get out too, back in my hometown. I want to help Vicky.”
“Don’t scare her away. I mean it. If you push too hard or too fast, she’ll disappear into that house, all alone with him, and we’ll lose the little bit of access we still have.
My mom and I have been doing this for a while, keeping her close without crowding her, and it only works because we don’t push. ”
“I hear you,” I say.
“Good.” Julie turns and slides the jar onto the shelf behind her. “Because I like Vicky, and I like you. And I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”
I nod. I understand the warning. Julie and Danielle have been at this longer than I have, here in this city, with this particular woman. But I also know that watching, waiting, and keeping an eye on things is what people do when they’ve accepted that nothing will change.
I don’t accept that.
I take the lift back to the Highhalls in the evening.
The corridors are quiet up here, never teeming with the hustle and bustle of the human quarter.
The living room is empty when I walk in.
Korr isn’t anywhere in sight, and I’m surprised to notice a hint of regret entering my thoughts. I walk to my bedroom door and stop.
There’s a small box on the floor, wrapped in paper, sitting right in front of my door. I pick it up. It’s light. The wrapping is careful, folded at the edges. I carry it into my room, close the door behind me, and sit on the edge of the bed.
I unwrap the paper and open the velvet box.
Two diamond earrings sit inside, a drop design, beautiful and delicate, catching the glow from the bedside lamp. Korr made these. The pieces of jewelry displayed on the shelves in the living room look the same, as if he has his own signature.
There’s a note tucked beside them. The handwriting is jagged and messy, the letters sloping in different directions, uneven and labored, as if written by someone who’s just learned how to write.
“For my beautiful wife,” it says.
I set the velvet box down on the table, then I take a step back from it and wrap my arms around myself. I’m shivering, and I can’t make it stop.
Gifts are never a good thing. Bran taught me that.
He gave me gifts before we got married, and every one of them made me feel chosen.
After the wedding, when he started hurting me, the gifts came the next day like clockwork.
He’d grovel, bring something wrapped in paper or ribbon, and the cycle would repeat.
The gift didn’t mean he was sorry; it was only a promise that he was going to do it again.
Kindness is not a real thing. What comes after kindness is pain.
Korr hasn’t touched me. He hasn’t pressured me or raised his voice, hasn’t come to my door at night, nor has he done anything threatening.
I know it, and I can actually list the nice things he’s done for me.
But his gift sits on the table and the note says, “beautiful wife,” and Bran used to call me beautiful too.
My body doesn’t care that the man who said it is different.
I open the top drawer of the dresser, put the velvet box inside, and close it.
Then I go to the bathing room and run the water.