Chapter 25 #3
She felt dizzy, lightheaded, as if the air in the room had been stripped of oxygen. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
William didn’t move for a long moment. He stood by the wall, his hair delightfully rumpled where her fingers had tangled in it. Slowly, he reached down, adjusting the front of his shirt and smoothing down his sleeves.
‘We shouldn’t have done that,’ Seraphina’s mind screamed into the silence. ‘Dear God, we shouldn’t have done that.’
It hadn’t proved he was wrong. It hadn’t proved she was in control. It had proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that a dangerous fire existed between them, one that threatened to burn their neat, transactional agreement to absolute cinders.
She needed to run. She needed to escape to the safety of her bedchamber and spend the rest of the night trying to logically dissect the terrifying earthquake that had just shattered her foundation.
She turned toward the door, trying to make her escape.
Then, she froze.
She couldn’t leave. Not like this. She had come down those stairs with a purpose. If she fled now, she was admitting defeat. She was letting him win.
Seraphina took one more long, shaky breath, smoothing her hands over her gown before turning back to face him. Her voice was still slightly breathless, her pitch uneven, but she forced the words out into the room.
“Alice is speaking,” she said.
William, who had walked back toward his desk, paused. He looked up at her, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. “What?”
“Alice,” Seraphina repeated, taking a small step forward, clutching her hands tightly together to hide their trembling. “She is speaking. Not just single words or nods. She is speaking in full sentences. Real... real conversations.”
William stood still for a moment, letting the words settle between them. Slowly, he pulled out his chair and sat down, resting his elbows on the desk. She could see the slight rise and fall of his shoulders. He, too, was still trying to catch his breath, his eyes unusually bright in the dim light.
“That is... that is wonderful, Seraphina,” he said softly.
“Yes,” she panted lightly, resting her hand against her stomach. “Also... did you know? Did you know she was the one who found her mother’s body when she passed?”
William’s expression softened. “No. I did not know that. The authorities merely reported that the child was found wandering in the village.”
“She was with her for days,” Seraphina said quietly, her eyes dropping to the pattern of the rug beneath her feet. “Trapped in a... cold room before anyone realized what had happened. She suffered horrors we cannot even begin to comprehend.”
She glanced back up at him, caught off guard by the sorrow that washed over William’s features.
His eyes held an empathy that made her heart ache in an entirely new, but still dangerous, way.
She looked away quickly, terrified that if she looked at his sorrow for a moment longer, her carefully constructed emotional walls would crumble entirely.
“But... but she is healing,” Seraphina added quickly. “We are reading together. We are doing activities in the garden. She is getting happier by the day, William. She is reclaiming her life.”
She took a breath, driving the point home. “Which means... which means our agreement is working. She will be well soon. We can seek the annulment on schedule, just as we planned. Everything is moving forward precisely as it ought to.”
She stared at him, desperately searching his face for agreement, for validation, for anything that would restore the comfortable, orderly reality they had established before he had pulled her against his chest.
William said nothing. He simply stared at her.
It was too much. The heat of the room, the lingering taste of him on her lips, the weight of his gaze. It was suffocating her.
“I must go,” she whispered abruptly.
She turned on her heel and practically fled toward the entrance. She grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, desperate to plunge back into the hallway.
Then, she stopped again.
She needed what just happened between them categorized. She needed to put a label on it so she could file it away and regain her composure.
Seraphina turned back slowly, keeping one hand firm against the doorframe as if it were the only thing holding her upright. She looked across the room at him, her chest still heaving, her chin tucked slightly low.
“That...” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “What just happened... That... does not count as consummating the marriage, does it? It does not legally or... biologically alter the parameters of our arrangement, right? We can still proceed with the annulment?”
William went entirely still. Then slowly, his features softened. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a warmth coming into his eyes as he looked across the room at her.
“Is that what it felt like?” He tilted his head, his gaze trailing down to her flushed cheeks before resting back on her eyes. “Did it feel as though we just consummated our marriage?”
Yes. It felt entirely like that. Yes, absolutely, terrifyingly yes.
“No,” she blurted out aloud, the word rushing out of her mouth far too fast, far too shrill. “No, of course not. That would be... absurd. I was just... I don’t know why I asked.”
She couldn’t stay a second longer. If she stayed, her mouth would continue to betray her shattered logical defenses.
“Good night,” she stammered, backing up hastily into the corridor. “Good night, Your Grace.”
Before he could offer another word, or another look, Seraphina pulled the door shut and ran all the way back to her wing, ready to bury her face in a pillow and never lift it again.