Page 75 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
“I’m fine.” I closed my eyes, leaning into his hand. “I am fine,” I said as my mind deprived me of any thought.
The smell of cool jasmine eased my mind as consciousness was slowly returning to me. Soft crunching of snow brought peace to my ears. Warm, rough fabric scratched my cheek.
“We are almost home, Princess,” Francis’ soft voice forced my mind out of oblivion.
My eyes fluttered open. My head spun, taking in the surroundings. I sat atop Francis’ horse, his hands gently held me close to him.
I moved a few inches from the man, barely keeping on the horse. “What happened?” I tightened the cloak around myself, feeling exposed.
“When was the last time you slept?” Francis’ hand wrapped around me tightly.
I couldn’t recall a single night that wasn’t riddled with constant screams and cold sweats, though I wasn’t about to admit that to Francis. It was enough for him to see my disarray after a single meeting.
The moon hid behind the clouds. Bright snow fell onto my face; snowflakes melted, sliding down my cheek. This proximity felt wrong. “I am well enough to ride my own horse.” I glanced at Annabelle falling into step behind us; her reins tight to Francis’ saddle.
He sighed. “The castle is just a hundred yards away. I’m sure you can survive my presence for another minute.” Francis’ lips turned into a thin line. “Was that him?”
My eyes focused on a branch in front of me, desperately trying to avoid Francis’ searching gaze. He sighed, taking my silence as an answer.
Francis knowing about Timothy was both a relief and distress. I needn’t hide my past from him any longer, but he had no right to know something I tried to bury deep down.
For the first time, I didn’t enjoy the silence that grew between us. I wished for him to talk, mock me even: anything.
My legs were ready to flee to my room the moment the castle entered my view. Francis turned his horse toward the stables; his hands gripped me tightly when he ordered for his mare to halt.
“Thank you,” I mumbled as he helped me from the horse.
“Cordelia—” Francis called after me when I was halfway up the stairs of the main entrance.
I pushed the doors open, fighting with the wind that wouldn’t let me in; the storm grew stronger. My fingers turned to ice when I rushed up the stairs toward my room.
The storm banged against the windows; the wind whistled, echoing through the halls.
“How did the meeting go?” Roxanne’s voice reached me from Florence’s room as I hurried down the corridor.
“Hey!” Roxanne called after me. “Wait up!” Her heavy steps followed.
I slammed the door behind me, sliding down the wood. Silent tears fell down my face as I curled into a ball right on the floor. Timothy glared at me when I closed my eyes; I wished to pry my eyes open forever.
The door creaked slightly, yet I cared not who stood at the threshold. “Go away,” I croaked.
Silver rubbed his face against my neck, comforting me as tears damped my cheeks.
The roof shook as a new wave of the blizzard swept through the castle. The cold made its way to my uncovered skin. I forced my body up, hobbling to my bed. Woolen blankets could not bring warmth into my body nor my soul.
When the door swung open, I was ready to scream at whoever invaded my space, but when I turned to say the gruesome words, they got stuck in my throat.
Roxanne stood at the threshold of my room; a bottle of moonshine in her hands.
