Luminous

87 - Fool's Errand ❣️

Meya regurgitated the contents of her stomach—mostly water—onto the tiny space by the wall fenced in by stalagmites. Torch in one hand, she clung onto the cave wall with the other as she coughed out the last dregs of diluted bile, then pressed her forehead to the icy stone, hoping to numb the piercing headache.

It's common knowledge that I'm impotent.

You'd have to wait in jail until you gave birth to a baby you didn't have.

Tears bubbled up in her eyes as his words echoed in her ears, heartless and uncaring. He didn't even pause to take her hint, didn't even consider the slimmest possibility. There was no joy, no fear, no shock nor disappointment. He was so sure of his death, it didn't occur to him that he could create life. How could she entrust their babe—their future—to a man who did not see one for himself?

Meya dug her fingertips into her middle, trembling from the effort of stifling a sob. Unfortunately, Freda didn't allow her much time to grieve. 

Footsteps echoed towards her. Meya bounced back upright and wiped her eyes with her arm. She propped the torch up against a stone column, then strained her neck back for a glimpse of the intruder. Sure enough, the monstrous shadow that preceded him shrunk as it slid across the rough surface, then the elder Lord Hadrian emerged from the tunnel's bend. Meya hastily turned around.

"Dun tell me you're done shagging. I hadn't even found a good spot." She tossed a quip over her shoulder. Coris halted a few steps away.

"I'm sorry for what I said." He began. Meya shrugged.

"Dun have to be. Gillian's an enemy. You must keep your upper hand. You taught me that."

Another bout of silence. Coris left his torch leaning against the wall, then drifted a step closer.

"Arinel told me how she found you. What Amoriah did." His voice started to tremble, "I wasn't there. I was never there when it counts. I'm sorry."

Meya heard his guilt, his sorrow, and her heart lurched, yearning for his bony arms, his gentle smile, his clammy hand combing through her hair, but pride kept her feet planted.

"Ain't your fault. You were being grounded." She dismissed it with a tilt of her head. Yet, when Coris braved another step, she couldn't bring herself to edge away from his cold.

"I know where I went wrong." He continued, "You're scared. And I was a heartless monster when you needed someone who'd listen—"

He took advantage of her stunned silence to slide his arms around her waists, rubbing his cheek upon hers.

"And a hug."

He whispered, a puff of wind in her ear. He sounded—different. No longer the cunning, unfeeling Lord Hadrian persona he would default to, but a simple young lad begging for his fair maiden's forgiveness. And, just like that, her walls fell. Meya spun around and sank into his embrace, closing her eyes as their sighs chorused.

"You came for me. Dun think you would." She mumbled as she burrowed her nose into his chest.

"I always would!" Coris gave her an exasperated squeeze, "It was a bluff. An unnecessary one, as it turned out. I'm sorry."

"No—I started it." Meya shook her head, rubbing her overflowing eyes against the smooth fabric of his toga, "I pushed you away because I wanted to be strong, free, independent. The way I used to be, but I was never that. I was arrogant, cold, lonely—"

Coris smoothed his hand down her back as she rambled,

"I saw Amoriah, Jadirah, that priestess, those wardens. They're everything I wanted to be—and they sickened me. So how should I be now? I'm not a good Latakian woman. Can't ever be one. But if I wouldn't be a Hyacinth woman—who else could I be?"