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It takes everything in me to stay firmly planted in bed. I want to run to him, to hold him and reassure him everything will be all right, just as I did in my dream.
But why?
I don’t owe him anything. He’s been wishy-washy with me since I’ve arrived. Then, at brunch, he made a fool of me and subjected me to my own fears. He never apologized, not that I expect a fae to. I can’t shake the draw I have toward him despite it all. And seeing tears—I swear he had tears last night—really got to me.
In the morning, I go through the motions of training with Ken and Viv, though I’m distracted the entire time. Much to my benefit, they’re equally as distracted with it being the Ostara celebration tonight.
The one night a year the curse is lifted—a curse I still don’t fully comprehend.
When I return to my room, I find a single pink rose sitting at my door. Not the bright, hot pink like the Damask roses, but a lighter, softer color.
Rainer once said different colored roses have different meanings. This flower is a peace offering, and I wonder what it means, exactly.
I eat and nap, spending the day with my thoughts, until Das Celyn breezes into the room in a cloud of perfume.
I dash from the settee to greet them, desperate for answers. Though I’m still wary of them after the stunt they pulled, I’m relieved to see a familiar face.
“Das Celyn—where have you been?”
“Preparations for festivities aren’t completed with idle hands, ya know.”
Dressed in shiny black shoes, loose dark slacks and matching tucked-in vest, with a white bowtie at their neck and a matching hair bow at the back of their head, they look sophisticated.
“Well, you look fabulous.”
They’ve gained some color and density to their cheeks, slowly opening themselves up to eating more over the weeks. An ounce of pride flickers in my chest.
Their lips tug up in a smile as they finger their vest.
“I happen to like Ostara. Now, let’s get you dolled up.”
A tremble runs through me at the choice of words.
Dolly.
Even when things seem lighter, easier, my life is forever tainted by his shadow. I choke it down, forcing a smile.
I am not weak.
I am strong.
I refuse to give the lord, and my memories of him, power over me any longer.
Das Celyn, oblivious to my inner struggle, trudges to the armoire, flinging it open and searching for something.
“Aha. Perfect for the celebration.” They pull out a frilly, white dress with awful shoulder caps that distracts me from my inner turmoil.
“No! Absolutely not.” I bolt to Das Celyn, ripping the dress from their hands. “I am still downright furious with you about the first dress you put me in.”
Instead of scolding me like I expect, they only laugh. I’m stunned silent as I watch their face light up in humor. Their entire body vibrates with laughter.
“I was wondering when you’d finally start fighting back.”
“You dressed me in that treacherous purple ensemble for your own amusement.” I grumble to myself as I toss the white dress aside. “You are not doing it again.”
“It was quite funny.”
“Not for me!”
