The Wolf and the Snake (English version)

Chapter 4

In my chair with wheels, I spend my time sniffing or admiring the flowers of apricots, apples, and pears, which will soon be mixed with purple pomegranates and white myrtle.

Since I have two able-bodied arms left, my maids and I made delicious pies with fish, mussels, and all sea products our Templar loves.

But the heart isn't in it.

I can't stop thinking about Reyn. I'll have to decide to take the quill and write to him. But how to tell him I'm not sure I'll walk again, among other strange details?

One evening, Aurel drives us on his horse to the beach in the Levant, and I protest when he sets me on the sand.

"I want to go back!"

This place reminds me too much of Reyn.

Aurel doesn't listen to me; he's shirtless and dives into the waves. Then, after a while, he comes back to sit next to me, indifferent to the water still streaming on his skin. "You should try swimming," he suggests. "It might be beneficial!"

"That's what I told Reyn after he broke his leg," I say dryly, gazing vaguely at the stars. "But I will never go back to the sea!"

"You're suffering from the fallout of events! The shipwreck must have been terrible," he replies.

"I guess so for the unfortunate people who crossed my path! I can repeat how it all happened, and you still don't see reality!"

"I understood the king's brother caused you serious trouble," he admits, "and my cousin behaved like a damn fool."

"All this is only the visible part! The truth is that I'm an abominable monster."

I screamed and sobbed.

"You have to forget about this and start living again," he advises, wrapping his arms around me.

"It's lurking inside me! A disgusting beast! An ugly demon!"

He holds me tighter; Aurel has this strange power to chase away the monsters around me.

Those he saw, such as Bernard of Congast or the count of Provence.

And those he thinks are just out of my imagination.

Nestled against his chest, I listen to the roar of the waves.

I will never go back to the sea.

Never again.

He suddenly breaks the silence between us with a hesitant voice. "I received a letter from my mother! She writes...,"

But he paused as if uncertain and worried at the same time. "She writes that your corpse was found and identified," he resumed with a breath. "And that Reyn is thinking of marrying again. So his parents would be looking for a good match."

I'm in shock; I remain pressed against him, my hands trembling and my breathing cut off. The words hustle, swirling in a macabre dance, piercing my heart and mind.

Alas, the blade of the troubadour didn't do less damage.

Dead and buried!

Corpse!

Gloomy and cold crypt!

A good match!

I let out a howl like an animal in pain.

"Calm down," Aurel says. "You're alive! That's what matters!"

I try to slow my breathing. "I don't understand! They found a body!"

"I don't know much more! But my mother wrote that a scarf would have made it possible to recognize you."

The white silk scarf, studded with precious stones!

I gave it to Douceline, Paulet's pretty fiancée, on the banks of Marseille's port; it was my wedding gift to facilitate the couple's future existence at the Aragon court.

When my life with Reyn was falling apart, I was glad to see them happy and carefree as lovers.

They would embark on the same evening.

It wasn't a dangerous crossing; the captain had to follow the coastline.

All he had to do was avoid reefs!

No one on this ship could have imagined coming across a gigantic monster drunk with rage and blood.

Not so close to the coast!

Nobody on this ship could have imagined the terrifying attack of the monster.

Violent nausea takes hold of my whole body at the idea of injured flesh, bones breaking, and screams of agony.

Every night, my nightmares continue to haunt me.

So I try to deny the truth.

To push it desperately out of me.

But I know it now.

Douceline is dead.

Paulet, too, no doubt.

The monster murdered them and the others without feeling any pity.

Through my tears, I imagine a beautiful young woman on Reyn's arm, little children galloping and playing around them. Grief crushes me inexorably under a ton of rotting, water-swollen corpses.

Aurel says nothing because there's nothing to say.

I would never give Reyn a poisoned gift. A missing wife is better than a murderous and possibly crippled wife.

"I want to stay dead!"

Aurel's large blue eyes went wide for a moment; then, he let out a long sigh and held me tightly against him.

***