28 #2
I threw the towel from my head to the floor, groaning when I felt the soreness of my scalp. When I slipped my thumb into my hair to touch the rough edges, the wound was already mostly healed. A human may have taken a week to get to this point. The wonders of Viperic regeneration.
With much effort, I got to a sitting position, closing the buttons of my combinations as I examined the room for my day clothes.
I pressed the pads of my feet to the floor.
Suddenly it was like starting from the beginning again.
How I found myself in such an insufferable loop, I may never know.
Sometimes life’s friction means I’m headed down an important path that no others dared.
That is what I chose to tell myself as of late.
The post of the canopy bed became my first support, then the nightstand.
I used the wall to inch toward the bureau.
With determination, I managed a house robe.
It was a bright red with red spider lilies depicted along the bottom and the drooping sleeves.
I didn’t realize exactly how many extra clothing items Phoebe bought for me with my initial order.
All shades of red, from burgundy to striking vermillion.
No slippers, I needed the stability today.
The journey outside my room was a steady one. There was no rush to where I was going, but it was taking more energy than I thought.
“Alina?” A voice behind me.
“Leave me be.” My face was becoming hot from effort and mortification. I thought most would be in their rooms or at dinner by now.
An arm looped around my waist and took one of my hands.
“I won’t leave you be, but I also won’t steer you away from whatever you’ve set your mind on,” Sidney laughed.
“So you will steer me to John?” I looked up at him.
Sidney nodded, already letting me lean my weight on him.
“Is he well?” I asked. We made it down the stairs one by one. Between his grip on my hand and my own on the railing, I was already more confident in my steps.
“You can ask him yourself.”
“Of course.” I pushed out a breath, the soreness of my body beginning to make itself known.
He led me down the corridor, I could hear people on the first floor gathering for their meals already, but all was quiet up here once we left the stairwell.
We stopped before a room.
Sidney put his hand on the knob but didn’t open the door until I finally nodded.
Amelia sat beside the bed. The rolling cart had all sorts of tonics, warm towels and a bowl for a sponge bath, and lastly the meal for the day, which was a thin soup.
John was propped up by pillows, wearing a clean undershirt while tucked comfortably under linens. His eyes were closed as the maid held the spoon to his lips, tipping gently as he swallowed thickly.
“Amelia.” Sidney gestured for her to leave.
John’s eyes opened then, softening when he saw me.
“Pops.” My lip trembled before the word even came.
Carefully, Sidney guided me to the seat. “I’ll come back to collect you on my next lap.” He squeezed my shoulder before letting go.
I was able to hold myself together long enough to hear the door close, but I couldn’t do it anymore.
When I took John’s hand, he squeezed gently.
I broke.
“I’m sorry.” The tears began dotting the linens as I leaned forward, then my knees hit the floor beside the bed. I lifted John’s hand to my lips and pressed a tight kiss to it. “I’m so sorry!”
He didn’t answer.
I held his hand to my cheek when I looked up at him. His eyes were glassy, remorseful.
“Are you well now?” It was more of a wish.
His lips twitched, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to say anything.
Then I realized half of his face was looser in the skin than the other.
He couldn’t speak, not even if he wanted to.
“God, what have I done?” I wept.
John’s hand squeezed tight. It seemed to have trouble keeping pressure, but he kept trying.
“This is my fault,” I told him. “Had I known my venom would do this, I would not have fed. I will find a way to make you all right, I promise,” I swore.
I rested my lips on his hand, closing my eyes did little to stop the tears.
Even when shielding my vision, I could only think of others who may have suffered. The groundskeeper at the gardens now had another layer of remorse. He must have been so scared, paralyzed and unable to do anything as he drowned in his own blood.
If it were possible for me to feed as normal, I would be no better than Luka.
My existence would only cause more suffering.
I could only hope that I am able to at least drink from a cup, but my gut said that it was past my time.
If there were a solution, it would have presented itself by now.
What other options could I possibly have when I could not eat, and even when I did, it causes such damage that I risk my life.
My only relief is that there was no pain for those I’ve hurt, knowing what I do now about the effects of my venom.
My hopes were that, with time, John may regain his sensations and speech, and no permanent damage was caused.
My only prayer for myself was for no further indecency to come upon me. Not before I could solve the mystery of my biology. It may have to wait until after the events of the week are behind us, and we can all forge ahead in this madness . . . if we survive it.