The day of the tournament a week later, no amount of protest or begging resounded. Therefore, she resolved to run away. She’d made it to the drawbridge before being apprehended.
“You can tell my father to go to hell!” she protested. Till now, she’d avoided Orm rather well. Wherever he was, she would find a new place to inhabit. Now, sat next to her father as the competition went on, Rihetha struggled to keep herself composed.
Orm accompanied someone foreign to her.
“Sir, it’s a hunchback. Should we turn him away?”
King Hern considered it then sighed. “No. If that cad has a henchman, then so be it.”
While Orm eyed Rihetha with a malicious stare, she returned his glare. Best if she got used to the face she’d never escape now.
The day vanished in moments and leaving her rescue in the most unlikely place—in the hands of a hunchback.
“I don’t need the wife.”
Those words weighed Rihetha’s head down. She didn’t watch Orm’s insincere duel to avenge her honor.
She considered it luck and good fortune that the hunchback stood victorious. The fact that he refused her a second time resonated.
A pariah was more well received than she. Even when she gathered her things, the hunchback required armed guards lest he flee. With his wagon so small, she decided to carry a meager amount of her favorite dresses. On the way to meet him, she walked tall and strong, but something happened when she saw that little man’s scowl masked by all that hair. He didn’t want her.
So what was the alternative? Find Prince Orm, that scum, and beg him to take her instead? The night Orm slammed her into the wall came back as did the tears. And that hadn’t been the worst of it.
Now, she and the hunchback stood there in the morning air for a lifetime before the man started walking.
He didn’t introduce himself, or ask her for a name, or offer her a ride on the wagon. Nothing. She walked behind him, paraded through the streets as the hunchback’s new bride. A bride he didn’t even want.
And then it came, once they reached a crossroad, he threw some money at her feet and told her to find an inn. This was her first time out of the palace in all her life. He started to walk. Each step he took further away, a pit formed in her stomach.
She should have listened. But instead, she followed behind him like some silly pet. Upon seeing her again, he only gasped and ran past her to get what mattered more, the money.
Rihetha looked at the donkeys. She wasn’t used to being this close to animals. The one from her father started walking and the other one moved as well.
At a loss, Rihetha hurried along beside them. “Wait. Wait. Ah! Wait.” She tried to yell, hoping it would startle them to stop moving. They started to run. “What! No. No! Come back.”
The reins bounced, nearly falling. With her left, she grabbed them, but once she was on the wagon, the donkeys sped up and she had no way of stopping.
“Please. No. Please,” she begged.
But they picked up speed and she held on for dear life.
A whistle broke through the fading daylight and the mules stopped sudden, throwing her to the dirt.
Rihetha’s body slammed into the ground hard. Everything faded. Her soul drifted. She felt nothing.
“Wake up,” someone commanded.
Her face stung; maybe someone slapped her.
“Get up!”
With a jerking of her body, her eyes flew open and all she saw was a brown mess. The Living Goddess.
She recoiled but upon doing so, realized that it was not that monster, but rather, the hunchback, looming over her.
A disapproving scowl hung on his face as he stepped past. The moment he unhooked his donkey and took it with him, she pulled herself to her feet and decided he’d abandoned her.
Night was coming and she had no idea where to go in either direction. By luck or a miracle, the hunchback returned sometime later with something on a spike. He made a fire and began to roast a bird.
Having not eaten since morning, Rihetha salivated. But she’d caused enough trouble, so she waited. He offered none to her. After that, he tied his donkey’s reins to his right foot and curled up. He was calling her a thief.
With that, she decided to forgo trying to eat what remained of the bird.
For now, they said nothing to one another but in the morning, she feared he’d either leave her as she slept or chase her away.
Therefore, she climbed into the wagon, covered herself under the cloth there, pulled her clothes to her, and curled up, determined to ignore the pangs of hunger that rippled through her. Perhaps if he arrived where he was going, he’d consider keeping her.
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