Chapter 36
It takes about twenty minutes for us to arrive at the Pendry household. A carriage waits outside, but it isn’t the one that we took to get into the city. Strange.
“Come inside and clean up,” I tell Neris. “I’ll loan you one of my dresses.”
Her lips tug up in a halfhearted, crooked smile. “Lovely, a too-short hem and too-roomy bodice,” she says, but the joke falls flat. Even to her.
We rush inside, closing the door behind us and heaving a sigh of relief when no one greets us.
“Come on,” I whisper as we speedwalk into the dining room, past servants, and up the stairs.
My heart is racing by the time I’m standing in front of Gruffud’s bedchamber.
“Hopefully he’s not home yet,” I whisper. “Wait here. I’ll just quickly check.”
I open the door and step into the room to find that Gruffud is indeed there. He’s in bed, but not alone. His hands grip a woman’s voluptuous hips, urging her on. Her breathy moans fill the chamber, tight coils of ebony hair bouncing against her bare back with each motion.
My world halts.
The air leaves my lungs. My blood heats and my stomach churns. A familiar plum-colored dress is discarded on the floor. I drag my eyes from the garment and back up to Arionna riding my husband in my marital bed.
They’re so caught up in the throes of passion that they don’t notice me standing here. When Gruffud’s eyes open to behold his paramour, he does a doubletake. His cold gaze snaps to me, flaring wide with alarm.
“Gwyneth,” he growls.
Arionna stops moving and throws a glance over her bare shoulder.
Her gasp cuts through my disbelief as she dives off Gruffud and drags the bedcovers over her body.
Gruffud has no such modesty; he leaps off the bed naked as he storms toward me.
I dash into the corridor where Neris waits.
She barely has a chance to look confused before Gruffud grabs me by the wrist, wrenching me back against his lanky frame.
“Unhand me!” I shout as he spins me to face him. His slap comes with such speed that I don’t have a chance to block it. Pain bursts in my cheek and lip.
“Winnie!” Neris shouts.
Before my head even clears, I’m shoved back against the wall, Gruffud’s forearm pressed against my windpipe. I should be able to get out of his grasp easily. But the edges of my vision blur, logic lost amid the panic. I struggle against him, tugging on his arm, trying to get out from his grip.
I need to calm down.
I drop my hands, allowing my powers to manipulate the bracelets on my wrist until I’m holding the smooth handle of a sharpened blade in my hand. But just as I’m about to drive the dagger home, Gruffud’s crushing weight diminishes.
He’s dragged off me, allowing precious air to pour back into my lungs. The dagger practically melts out of shape as I shove it into my pocket. My vision wanes but I can hear a kerfuffle—grunts of pain and dull strikes against flesh.
Guzzling air, my hand to my throbbing neck, I stare down at the scene unfolding before me. Neris is sitting on Gruffud’s bare stomach, firing punches at him while he defends his pretty face.
My heart clenches, driving my pulse up. She cannot do this.
Not without repercussions. “Neris, get off him!” Panic bubbles in my chest as I clench my fists and root my feet to the floor.
My legs begin to quake, and Neris leaps off the naked Gruffud.
They both look startled, and I realize it’s not my legs shaking but the whole house.
Shite.
Neris cuts me a sharp look that says control yourself, as if she wasn’t just pummeling Gruffud like a feral cat. I quickly tamp down on the involuntary flow of my terraforging, and the house stops shaking. “Neris, get out of here,” I tell her. I mouth the next word: run.
She looks at me with wild eyes, a bloodied scratch on her cheek. She nods and runs faster than I knew she was even capable of. Hopefully she’ll go to that spot in the forest where I often go to release pent-up magical energy. I could meet her there. We could figure out the next steps together.
Gruffud is still lying on his back, and a groan escapes him as he runs his hand over his face. He’ll definitely have bruises. Plenty of them. Perhaps Father taught Neris to defend herself a little too well.
Arionna steps out into the corridor, fully dressed, as Gruffud gets to his feet. “She won’t get away with this,” he says, his long fingers pressed to his face.
My heart begins to pound again, and without further thought, I set off running. Down the stairs, out of the house.
My legs don’t stop moving. It’s though they’ve developed their own intellect. As though they’re not even connected to me. Hot tears sting my face only to be immediately dried as the breeze blows against my skin.
I wrench the door open and tear into the house with heat in my veins and sweat streaming down my face. Mother leaps to her feet, a cup clattering onto the saucer on the tea table. “Gwyneth!” she exclaims.
My breaths come in ragged pants as I rush past her and up the stairs.
I don’t stop until I make it to my old room, where Neris has kept my belongings even after moving into it.
Mother’s footfalls trail me. “What has—” She stops abruptly, her eyes taking in my appearance as I turn to her.
My name leaves her lips with a pained, breathless sound.
I turn away and step into the closet to grab a large bag. I throw a couple pairs of trousers and several tunics into the bag and move to my dresser to look for a spare comb and brush.
“What on earth happened? And what in the gods’ names are you doing?”
I ignore her as I throw all the jewelry that I’d given Neris into the bag. We can sell them for coin.
“Gwyneth!”
“I’m leaving!” I shout back. My lip burns, the taste of blood on my tongue. “I will not remain married to an adulterous, abusive man!”
Mother goes silent and leans against the wall of my bedchamber as if she needs support. “What happened?” she enunciates, impatience flowing through her measured tone.
I consider telling her the truth, but a voice calls me from just beyond my door. “Gwyn! You cannot tell Moth—” Arionna stops abruptly and reels back, the whites of her eyes showing.
Mother turns her gaze to me instead. “Cannot tell me what?” she demands.
Arionna bites her lip and I meet her pleading gaze with cold fervor as I respond to Mother. “Ask her.”
Mother’s focus flicks to Arionna. “Speak.”
My sister’s dark complexion may hide her flushed cheeks, but her hair is atypically disheveled, her makeup smudged, her shoulders caving in beneath Mother’s scrutiny. With my bag gripped tightly in my hand, I shoulder past Arionna.
As I rush down the stairs, Mother’s voice trails after me. “I cannot allow you to leave!”
I arch my brows. “If you plan to bodily block me, you know I can easily get past you.”
“They’ll come after you,” she says, as I step into the sitting room.
“I’d like to see them try.”
“Gwyneth, you cannot do this. Not after all the sacrifices we’ve made—harboring you rather than turning you in.”
I spin on my heel to face her. “My sincerest apologies for being born the way I was!” The words fly from my mouth far louder than I intend. They taste bitter rolling off my tongue.
Mother flinches, stepping back, and I almost feel bad. Quickly, she gathers her composure, but she looks frailer than ever.
“As for sacrifices, did you get married off like some prized cow? Did you endure nonstop insults from your husband while your mother asked you if you were satisfying him? Were you forced to bed someone because it was your marital duty, only to find him bedding another woman?”
For a moment, she struggles to find her words. But when she does, her voice is thick with emotion. “I protected you. Your whole life. I’ve done what’s best for you. I—I covered for you when you couldn’t control yourself. I lived in fear rather than allow them to take you away from me.”
My throat swells, tears burning my eyes. I continue toward the door when a voice calls, “Wait!”
Arionna steps up beside Mother. “Neris is going to be flogged in the plaza,” she says quietly.
My body turns cold, and Mother’s head snaps to Arionna. “What?”
“They’ve already caught her.” A plea shines in her dark eyes. My body feels numb, my heart pounding as though it would soon expel itself from my chest cavity.
“The carriage is still outside,” Arionna continues. “The disciplinary display will be happening immediately.”
Acid tries to crawl up my throat. I swallow forcefully, grimacing. Mother steps forward, but she doesn’t say anything. Her throat bobs and tears fill her eyes.
I turn to Arionna, hardly able to see past the woman who I’d caught bedding my husband. The woman who’s become more and more of a stranger to me over the years. She may have wronged me, but I still love her despite it all. I hate myself for that.
“Don’t fall for his charade,” I softly warn her. “He’s going to hurt you.”
She only pushes back her shoulders stubbornly, schooling her expression into nonchalance. Our mother’s child. I scoff; why did I ever allow myself to feel even the slightest sympathy for her? She isn’t the victim here.
I step out of the house and run toward the carriage, my satchel bumping against my hip. I’m not sure what my next step will be, but somehow I have to save Neris.
She’s all I have left.