The Goblin's Throne

Chapter Twenty One: Guilt

I was practically skipping as I made my way to Neasa's tower. Only four days remained between me and home and seeing everyone that had played a part in my capture die a horrible, painful death. 

"Matilda." Aurora threw open the door before I could even touch the doorknob. She grinned at me brightly, life finally in her eyes. "Hurry, come in, she's having a good day today." She pulled me inside and finally I saw what she meant and I let the smile I'd been holding back all week spread wide across my face. 

Neasa wasn't in her bed. She was on her feet, doing exercises with Liber. She'd been dressed in a dress the color of a robin's egg and her long hair, which hung to the backs of her knees, had been washed and brushed. It was partly pulled back with a silky ribbon. Liber was pulling out and folding her wings, trying to strengthen the muscles. She'd never fly, but the hope was that she may at least be able to open and close them. As it was, they were almost always hanging limply off her back and had to be wrapped up while she walked around to keep them off the ground. She'd been unable to unfold them before, now she had trouble folding them back up. Even though it was a moderate one the resetting of her wing bones had been considered a success. It had lessened her pain, but it hadn't eradicated it. There was only so much that could be corrected. Her defects were just that severe. She still had bad days, but the good ones were becoming more frequent. 

"Very good, Neasa," Liber said with excitement in his soft voice. He pulled out her gray feathered wing out as far as they could go, extending them fully. Neasa stiffened a little and pressed her lips tight together, obviously uncomfortable, but she didn't let any sound of pain out of her mouth.

I couldn't help but clap excitedly for her. I'd spent the past four months caring for her and just like Liber I couldn't help but to love her. Now that she wasn't writhing around in pain or under a magic-induced sleep, her personality was able to shine. 

She turned her head at the sound and her face lit up. "Ma Tilda!" She called out and reached out for me. 

"Hello, My Dove."  I knelt down in front of her and let her throw her arms around my neck. I hugged her back, being mindful of her still hunched back and fragility. I felt the familiar stab of guilt as I held her. It cut through my gut and burned my tongue. I should have corrected her the first time she'd called me that, but she'd been hurting at the time and I couldn't bring myself to do it. I let myself grow attached. For that, I honestly have no excuse. 

I liked Neasa. I chose to think it was because she was almost the same age as Frit and Floki, but I had to admit that it was more than that.  Neasa was a sweet little girl. She'd immediately taken a liking to me. I rocked her to sleep, I fed and clothed her, I played with her and sang her songs. I became a surrogate for her mother when Aurora couldn't be there and Neasa had been made a surrogate for the children I couldn't reach, filling that aching void. Killing her was going to be the hardest thing I'd done in quite a while. 

I didn't call her Dove out of love. It was not a cute, affectionate nickname. It served as a reminder to myself. I used to throw rocks at the birds that pecked at the city streets in hopes of cooking them up for dinner. Doves were a favorite meal. 

"You're looking especially pretty today." I complimented her, gently pulling her arms from my neck, I rocked back on my heels and made a show of looking her over. 

"Today is special," Neasa said, bouncing happily. 

"Really?" I gave Aurora a questioning look.

Her eyes glinted with mischief. "She's having such a good day, I thought it was time to take her out to play in the garden. Preferably the one Titania's bedroom looks out on."