Pollyanna had fallen into a comfortable routine for the past three years at the Crater of Resentment. Get up, take a bath, get dressed, eat breakfast, fight, eat dinner, and go to sleep. During this time, Pollyanna maintained a distance from everyone at the tower but Them, whose company she enjoyed; she couldn’t get rid of him even if she tried, because he was constantly determined to sit next to her.
Consistently, she would see Eory looking at her longingly. She knew he still wanted to be her friend, and there were times when she wanted to talk to him… to let him back into her life as a friend, but no matter how much time seemed to pass, she still seemed to hold resentment toward him. She knew it was childish, but she couldn’t help her feelings.
Over the years, she had been exploring those feelings. Something she hadn’t done since... she didn't know last. Eory had instilled doubt into her soul about how she had lived her life, and now, she spent so much of her time going over her past actions that she could hardly think about anything else. Lately, she had been fixated on that incident involving the fortune-teller from thirty years ago.
While she maimed doppelgangers, ate, and bathed, it was all she could think of; While she slept, it was all she dreamed about. She didn’t know why this memory was holding her captive over any other of late. Previously, the memories that were weighing her down all had to do with the children she had killed. It was true that in her long life, she had only had to kill four, but four was enough to make it hard for her to keep on breathing.
Before, she had Fjorn’s philosophy to shield her from thinking about those children. She still tried to use it, but she found that it was no longer effective. Eory had chipped that shield.
But now, it was her own unborn child who was infecting every waking moment of her life, and sometimes, every sleeping moment, too. She couldn’t stop thinking about his blue eyes, his beautiful skin, or his adorable, crooked smile, inherited from his father.
As Pollyanna brushed her hair after bathing, she thought to herself, that dream the fortune-teller gave me was most likely fake. Why should I let it torture me so? My son is dead. I never got to meet him. And at the thought of never being able to meet him, her eyes turned glassy. She sniffled.
Pollyanna had been gazing at her feet while brushing her hair, but now, she lifted her gaze. She lifted it because she saw Eory coming in.
Of late, he had become far less self-conscious about his body. He threw off his clothes fearlessly and Pollyanna would never admit it to him, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the show—even though she made sure to only give him brief glances before he slipped into the tub. He had developed some muscles—not much, but as much as a skinny man like him could have possibly developed—and she couldn’t help but notice how good they looked on him.
Eory glanced her way. He smiled, looking a little flushed. He waved to her. Pollyanna turned away and headed out. After that, she went to eat. Them joined her at her table, and she was glad for the company. Over the years, Pollyanna had consistently debated telling him that Eory had killed Taylor, but she was never a petty woman, whatever else she might be. She saw no need to destroy Eory’s friendships or uproot his life like she had seen so many women at Court do in her life.
“How are you doing lately, Polly?” Them asked, still trying to give her a pet name after all these years.
Pollyanna snorted. “I’m as well as could be expected, I suppose. How are you and your friend?” she asked, looking at Pete.
Them shrugged. “Can’t complain too much… I’m just worried because… well, you know…” Them sighed, picking at his food listlessly.
Pollyanna nodded. Them would be dead soon, according to the Antler he had met. Pollyanna would miss him, but she would most likely shed no tears, even if she wished she would. “I’ll really miss you when you’re gone, Them. You’re quite the amusing fellow.”
Them grinned. “You’re quite amusing yourself, old lady.”
“If you weren’t so amusing, I’d break your arms for saying that.” Pollyanna laughed.
Them gave her a gentle smile, smoothing his fluffy white hair back. There was a long pause in their conversation while they focused on eating. Eventually, Them said, “You know… I’m shocked by how committed you are to staying away from Eory. Have you, um… are you done with the Arrozans?”
Pollyanna grimaced. She hated when Them asked anything about Eory or her current feelings about the Arrozan Royal Family. “I don’t know, Them…” was all she could say.
Them looked at her with eyes full of admiration. “It seemed like you were addicted to them… I’m glad you managed to quit. I can never seem to quit my addictions. By Sherne, after all these years, I still can’t get Taylor out of my head.”
If Pollyanna weren’t such a hard woman, she might have held the waif’s hand in an attempt to comfort him. As it were, she merely said, “Well, Them. I hope we’ve managed to make your last years fun and comfortable—that is, if the Antler was right.”
Them nodded in response.
After that, Pollyanna headed out onto the battlefield. While her mind wasn’t in the greatest place, her body and her form were impeccable. Something about the fight balanced her—made her feel like she was still working for Fjorn, the man who made her feel complete.
She felt confidence surging through her veins as she cut down doppelganger after doppelganger; there was no right or wrong during this fight. There was only live and die. At least for awhile while she fought, she could keep her mind off of her unborn child.
Just for a second during the battle, five doppelgangers had her pinned. An arrow sang through the air and pierced one of them.
Pollyanna looked up to see Eory smiling at her with a wave. Pollyanna turned from him, wishing she didn’t have to see him everywhere she looked. Freed from Eory’s arrow, she easily dispatched the remaining doppelgangers.
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