Wenberheim, 180

Terry felt nothing but pity for me when I told him my fate. Although I had begun opening up to Terry and Caerwyn of late, I now withdrew from them and my thoughts were ever focused on unhappy things and mustering the will just to get through the day. I found no solace anywhere but in my lovely memories with my family and that bittersweet kiss Caerwyn had almost given me.

I hadn’t even seen him since he had taken me and Terry to the dress shop—he was too busy making preparations for his pilgrimage.

I thought about that almost-kiss often as I twisted the necklace he had given me in my hands… His breath on my face, his green eyes that were as deep as a forest, those… Dots—or freckles, as Terry had called them—on his face… Those lips an inch from mine.

Gods, the thought that I was being married to a prince with a cruel and violent reputation and I would never feel the lips I truly wanted on mine was infuriating and set me to crying endlessly when I was alone. I had lost one of two people who cared anything for me after so closely losing my family. 

While I was cooking, I held a knife intently for a moment and stared at it silently. 

Terry touched my shoulder and took the knife away from me. “Don’t give up, Princess. I’ll be with you. I’ve requested to be your personal guard and attendant in your new castle and I was approved by Leon and Caerwyn.”

I looked at him with appreciation. He was such a kind boy, and I didn’t want to let him down. I looked down. “And Caerwyn?”

“He’ll be gone for a few months, but I know he does wish to be one of your guards.” Terry replied.

I forced myself not to cry and nodded expressionlessly. “Thank you for coming with me, Terry. At least I’ll have one friend.”

Terry nodded as we continued preparing breakfast for the templars.

At the end of the week, the youngest prince, whose name was Paris, would come by the temple with a horse-drawn carriage and take me back to Nui where we would reside together. Until then, I would continue working in the temple.

I wasn’t looking forward to seeing my old, beloved kingdom destroyed. It was the thing I dreaded most. To live at the spot where my family had lived and loved me was a devastating thought, indeed. It seemed as if life kept getting worse and worse for me, and I had no idea why I was made to suffer. There just seemed to be no good reason for it.

The only reason the moth gods could offer was that age-old concern of mine; that I was a passionless and vain woman and my whole family had paid the price for my errors. The human God offered a different explanation.

Perhaps there was a reason for this suffering--a lesson to be learned--that had not made itself known to me.

No matter how much I repented to either God—the human God through prayer and the moth gods through secretly offering my blood to them when humans weren’t looking—it did no good.

Still tied to my origins, I began to concede that I was woman with a black soul, in love with a human man and had never had any great prospects for myself other than selfish desires.

Yes…This was what I deserved for giving my affections to Caerwyn. It was against both our religions to love outside our species. It didn’t matter that we had neither kissed nor touched, the gods knew my thoughts and were punishing me for them. I only hoped Caerwyn’s God was kinder to him than mine were to me.