Page 103 of To Trap a Soul

“I will go without it for now,” she stated, while turning her head away from him defiantly. “If you place me near Nathair’s home, I will spend time with him.”

“We can speak on this, if you’d prefer.”

Lindi threw her hand out. “I would sincerely rather not. If it’s not something you want, then I see no reason to convince you otherwise.”

She’d also never beg for it.

I wish I didn’t ask,she thought, craving nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die of mortification.Gosh. I’m so embarrassed.

She doubted he understood how much courage she’d gathered, and she hadn’t expected to be rejected so coldly or outrightly. But she wanted something more from him, even if it wasn’t true affection.

Just something to feel like she wasn’t as alone as she sometimes felt. Something to look back on with fondness, and to remind her body that it could be loved physically, even if emotionally it felt impossible. She couldn’t – nor wouldn’t – offer it to anyone else, even if he hadn’t made that a requirement.

She was his wife faithfully, even if it was a distant role in all ways.

Mum and dad said I would be a spinster if I continued on my lack-of-marriage path.She felt like one, except she somehow produced children, like by a sexless miracle.

Weldir was barely her friend. At most, he felt like a lifelong acquaintance she couldn’t shake from her tail.

In reality, she wasn’t all that upset with Weldir.

She was just disappointed, and that emotion could be rather crushing to one’s spirit. She was angry at the situation, that was all. He didn’t even seem to truly understand how or why she was hurt, and it was just another case of Weldir being Weldir.

A god who lacked comprehension of what it was like to not only be a human, but someone with needs, wants, and longing.

But the long silences and absences were more painful than she was ever willing to admit, especially as she had no idea how to strum up a conversation. Worse still, on the odd occasion that she tried, he wasn’t always there. Such things would warp the mind of most humans, so how she’d managed to retain a semblance – let alone an abundance – of sanity was beyond her.

“I don’t feel anything, Lindiwe.”

She closed her eyes, wishing for the conversation to end. “Yes. I gathered that,” she snapped out a little harsher than she intended. “You’re very detached. You always have been.”

She hadn’t expected him to feel affection or a sickening ache to be near her, but she’d been hoping they could at least find pleasure together. Their bond was apparently forever, so why not find enjoyment in it somewhere?

Still, Weldir admitting that he didn’t feel anything was just another blow her psyche couldn’t take right then. Maybe somewhere in her mind, she wanted to feel adored emotionally, but she’d been willing for at least physically. She didn’t like that he was so open about how little she meant to him, considering all she’d done for him as his wife andservant.

She turned from him when she felt the inevitable well of tears forming and made sure he couldn’t see it when she palmed her cheeks to keep them from falling.

“I’m hoping Orson will be there,” Lindi continued while forcing an uplifted tone in her voice, trying to distract from the conversation and hoping he would just allow it. “I haven’t seen him and Nathair since you made me leave Austrális last.”

Weldir’s following sigh wrapped around her entire body, seemingly exhausted with her and her human emotions. “As you wish, Lindiwe.”

By her next blink, she was transported to his mist within the Veil, and a cascading waterfall in the daylight thundered just before her. The rainbow that greeted her was too joyful and bright for the despondent pain that clung to her lungs.

With her hands bundled into fists, she looked down into the Veil, and Nathair’s lake.

Why do I feel like I keep being punished for giving him my soul?

A time unknown, but a time of discontent

Weldir peered into the viewing disc before him with his legs bent and crossed beneath his floating form. Four other discs surrounded him, each one showing someone in motion.

The two behind him were of Nathair and Orson, their discs overlapping as they were in direct proximity to each other. The one to his right showed Odie, the otter-skulledDuskwalker, while the other showed Dymphna with their skull of a water deer.

They were all safe, either resting or in the middle of battling with Demons and collecting the souls that were unwittingly clinging to them. He felt no need to watch them as intently as he did with the one that held Lindiwe and their twin offspring.

With a blanket covering her from head to toe, she lay on her side. The bed beneath her looked lumpy and uncomfortable, the blanket fibrous and itchy, and the pillow hard. She often complained of these things out loud, yet not once had Lindiwe moved from her spot.

Winter screeched outside the abandoned cottage she’d takenfor herself. White snow fell upon thick blankets of snowpack, with not a single sprout of green flora visible. The building was small, some peasant or commoner’s house made of wood and brick, with mansard slate tiles.

---