Page 48 of Princess of Death

I removed the arrow then placed my hand on its flank. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry, Dad?” Tiberius asked.

I grabbed the arrow and cleaned it on my breeches before I returned it to the quiver across my back. “Because life isn’t fair.” I pulled the large elk over my shoulder and steadied the carcass before we began our journey back to the house.

Tiberius led the way.

It was a fifteen-minute walk back to our home on the outskirts of the village, a modest cabin that was just big enough for us to raise our two boys. I hunted for our meals and sold the extra meat at the market. Anya had her own garden and used the vegetables to cook in her stews. Our life was simple, but it was ours.

Until she got sick.

We approached the wooden fence around the house, our dog Pinecone barking at our approach.

Tiberius opened the gate and ran through the door. “We’re back. Dad got an elk.”

I carried the carcass to the workshop I’d built for myself. I prepared the meat away from my family, because the boys were still too young to witness that much reality. I washed my hands clean of the blood then walked inside the house.

Darius was two years older and, therefore, left in charge of his mother while I was gone. “Was it big?”

“Almost too big to carry.” I circled him with one arm and gave him a kiss on the head. He was tall for his age. Both of my boys were. Soon, they would be men, and this time would be a memory. “Did you take care of your mother while I was gone?”

“Yeah. I made her some stew.”

“Attaboy.”

Darius ran off with Tiberius, and from the other room, I could hear Tiberius bragging about the hunt and making it sound far more exciting than it really was.

I walked through the open door into the bedroom and found her in bed.

Dying.

It hurt to look at her every time, to see how withered she was—and I couldn’t stop it. Her eyes were sunken, and she was thin. It was hard for her to speak without coughing, so she was careful with her words.

She was so weak, she didn’t even perk up at the sight of me.

“Hey, baby.” She didn’t want my pity, so I had to pretend everything was normal when my life was literally dying before my eyes.

“Hey…”

I came to her bedside and pulled up a chair. “Tiberius and I found an elk. We’ll have steak and potatoes for dinner.”

“Sounds nice…” She barely finished her words when a coughing fit took her.

I handed her a glass of water, and she downed it and spilled some down her chin. I dabbed it with a linen cloth. Witnessing her agony was a different kind of torture than actually experiencing it. I would do anything to trade places with her. Would do anything to slowly die while she continued on.

I’d hunted for many weeks to afford a doctor to come visit, but he said she had an infection of the lungs that couldn’t be cured. The winter had been harsh, and while I’d been gone fetching firewood, she’d gone into town with Tiberius because he’d sprained his wrist in my absence. A blizzard came through…and brought the sickness with it.

If I’d been there, I would have taken him myself. Or he wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.

Now, I was about to lose one of the people I loved most.

Her weak hand slowly reached for mine. “Don’t look at me like that.”

My eyes dropped to our joined fingers, the heartbreak in my chest enough to make my sternum crack. We used to have a beautiful life, making love by the fire when the kids were asleep. The times when she waddled around the house with a pregnant belly were the best memories of my life. We were supposed to watch our boys become men and have their own families.

We were supposed to grow old together.

But now, I would raise my sons alone and enjoy the happiness of fatherhood while she became a memory to the sons she’d birthed.

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