Love Hurts ((ON HOLD))

Chapter VII

Only once she was in the safety of her own room did Malisa allow her emotion to overtake her. Crashing onto her bed, she hugged herself tightly as the tears freely flowed. Ander was dead, and now that he was gone, what else did she have? She was damned to a life of servitude at her father's wish with no longer the chance to offer her own insight into what she wanted or needed for her own future. Her father already believed she was damaged and if he wasn't trying harder to sell her off before, this would be new motivation enough for him to get rid of her and her malediction once and for all.

She had never known about what had happened to those people involved in her early life— another aspect of shame she was certain to have bestowed upon the household, and a decade-long inspiration for her father to be rid of her. What well-respected lord would want such a shadow hanging over his household? And now that there was another death in their hands— her hands...

What if her father attempted to blame Ander's death on her?

Her mother mentioned that testing him could make for a far worse fate. And though she said he was more motivated by coin and trade, could he go so far as to turn Malisa over for judgment just to be rid of having to deal with her forever?

No, Malisa did not want to wait around long enough to figure out the answer to those questions.

She needed to escape on her own terms, just like she would have with Ander, had he survived. She needed to leave before her life was decided for her, or worse— it ended before it even began.

But what could she do? Where could she go? Ander was dead, and the only other person she had been allowed to interact with in her recent years was Demetra, who had since been dismissed by her father...

Oh gods, Demetra.

She had promised she would go to see her once she talked to Ander.

But that never happened, and now...

Now, Demetra was all she had. And she had to talk to her. Had to tell her what happened. Had to figure out what to do next because if anyone was going to know how best to traverse the future from here, it would be one of the smartest people Malisa knew.

But how?

Then she remembered their last encounter in the library, muddled with everything else that had happened throughout the day. Their kiss, their promises...

Grasping at her chest, she sought out the paper that she had hidden in her bodice that contained the address for Demetra's residence, but it was gone.

It was gone because the dress she was wearing at the time was later covered in blood and she had been bathed and...

Sitting up quickly, she looked around the room for any sign of the dress. But nothing came to view and she felt her heart sink just as quickly as it began to rise. Had it fallen out of her dress when she was crawling around the loft in the stable, lost among the mess? Or had one of the servants found it while they were bathing her and threw it away like a piece of rubbish? Or worse— realized what it was and had given it to her father?

Panic rose in her throat as she jumped from the bed, beginning to pace around her room. As quickly as hope flashed it was dimmed and she needed to think— could she possibly recall any of the address? Could she chance seeking out Demetra without knowing where she was going? What if she couldn't find her— would she be able to return, or was this her last, final chance? None of it mattered without that paper...

Something glinted next to her bed, halting her pacing and drawing her attention to the bedside table. As they were every night, candles were lit by silent servants, yet something glimmered in the candlelight.