Page 49 of Hollowed

“Whatimportance does that hold?”Iasked, immediately growing defensive and crossing my arms across my chest.Ihad hidden nothing from him and resented the implication hidden in his words. “Itwas never a choice if it was between my life or the town.Itold you that.Whyis this a shock to you?”

“Itmakes quite a difference for your own mother to condemn you to death,Katrina.”Hespoke as ifIwere a child who had failed to understand some complex topic.Itbrought me back to conversations with my mother. “Itwould have helped me understand what we were truly getting into here.Before,Ithought you were merely…”

“Merelywhat?”Idemanded, my icy voice a stark contrast to the fire building in my veins. “Merelybeing dramatic?ThatItruly hated my parents for no reason and thought they would summon the sluagh for my own amusement?”

Hissilence was answer enough.

Iscoffed. “Youtruly believeIam that much of a child thatIcould attempt to convince you my parents were summoning a horde of murderous spirits for no other reason thanIwasangry with them?Doyou truly think so little of me?”

Hedid not reply.

“Letme tell you about my childhood,Alexander.Fromthe momentIwas born,Iwas a disappointment to my parents, and my status in their eyes only went down from there.Fromthe momentIcould speak, and my hearing defect was discovered,Iwas a shame to my parents.Fromthe moment of my first magic lesson whereIcould not do as my mother instructed,Iwas a burden to my parents.”

Heopened his mouth to speak, butIkept going.

“Mymother hasneverheld me.Notonce in my entire life.Theonly touchIever got from her was in anger.Myfather is a spineless man who bends to her every whim.Iwas never loved.Theonly affectionIhave ever received as a child was from my governess, who my mother fired and banished fromSleepyHollowwhen she thoughtIwas growing too reliant on her.Theonly loveIhave ever known comes from an old man namedHenry, who took me in and taught me how to make pottery.Theonly giftIwas ever given came from him.Theonly comfortIwas ever shown came from him.”

Mychest was heaving, and my hands were engulfed in flames, illuminating the surrounding darkness.Takinga deep breath,Iwilled the fire back inside me, plunging us back into the night while my eyes adjusted to the nearly full moon’s light.Theonly sound around us was my panting and the rustling of crisp leaves.

“Iapologize,Katrina,”Alexandersaid, his voice careful and quiet.

“Whatare you sorry for,Horseman?Foryour words?Yourassumptions?Orfor kissing me?”Iasked, my anger still simmering, thoughIhad successfully put the lid back on it.Ihad never let my anger out so freely, had never let my words go with such abandon.Itfelt like a weight had been lifted from my chest, likeIcould breathe freely, even though a part of me still feared reprisal. “Simplysaying you are sorry is not adequate.Youmust mean it, and to mean it, you must admit what you have done.”

“Ofcourse,” he agreed, nodding.Hereached a hand out to me.Ihesitated for a moment, but gave mine to him.Iwas woman enough to admit that despite my anger, his touch was welcomed, even through his thick gloves.Hesmiled slightly. “Thankyou.Iapologize for assuming you were intentionally hiding that your parents chose you for the sacrifice.AndIapologize for implying that you were being childish in your suspicions of them.Itwas wrong of me.”

“Yes, it was,”Iagreed.Asangry asIwas over his assumptions,Idid not enjoy the feeling.IknewIwas sheltered and naïve in some aspects of life, butIwas far beyond what was considered an adult here, andIdid know whatIwas talking about.Partof me noticed he hadn’t apologized for kissing me, butI’dhad enough disappointment tonight to bring that up. “Ineed you to take me seriously,Alexander.”

“Ido take you seriously,Katrina,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Iam sorry.Itwas wrong of me to say those things.”

“Whydid you?”Icould not help but ask, my shoulders slumping.Sincehe had rescued me, theDullahanhad been kind.Thiswas out of character.PerhapsIdid not truly know him, butIfelt compelled to ask.Hestudiously had not mentioned the kiss, and soIwouldn’t either.Thelack of acknowledgement was clear enough of a message. “Anddid you truly mean them?”

“OfcourseIdidn’t mean them.”Hehesitated, studying me. “Isuppose it struck a personal chord, hearing that your own parents were honored by killing their only daughter.”

Nowit was my turn to fall silent.Alexanderhad been private about himself, only divulging information to provide context to our research.Despitemy curiosity,Icould not bring myself to ask the questions lingering on my tongue.

Alexanderstepped closer to me, folding our joined hands in the narrowing space between our bodies.Inthe cool of the night, his body radiated heat.

“Nochild deserves to feel unloved by their parents.”Histhumb traced over my cheek.Thetouch extinguished the rest of my anger like a bucket of water poured over a smoldering fire.

“You’vesaid that before.Iam sensing there is a story,”Isaid, my voice as quiet as his touch, afraid that ifIspoke too loudly,Iwould fracture the tenuous peace between us.Mycuriosity had never been easily sated, and this tender moment between us made me want to know more about the man behind theHeadlessHorsemanlegend.Thisinsight into his childhood was intriguing.

Hesighed, pulling his hand away from my face, though he did not step away. “Weshould get back to the inn.Thenight is cold, and there is no need for us to continue conversing in the woods.Iwill tell you my story once we are inside.”

Itwas clear he was looking for an excuse to put off my questions, perhaps to build his nerve.Iunderstood that. “Letus get back then.”

Thoughwe had both said we would leave, neither of us moved.

Alexander’seyes flicked down to my mouth, andItracked every single twitch of his eyes.WhileIdesperately wanted to kiss him again, the rejection of the first timeIhad initiated the contact and the dismissal after our kiss at the manor still burned in the back of my mind.Iwould not be so foolish to open myself up for that hurt again.GatheringstrengthIhad not knownIhad,Idropped my hand from his and stepped back.

Iwould not be rejected again, andAlexanderhad made himself clear before.Theonly thing between us was the mutual desire to saveSleepyHollowfrom being devoured by the sluagh.

“Weshould be off.”Mythroat felt thick, andIcould only hope it did not sound obvious.

Afteranother moment of neither of us moving, he nodded and stepped back, clasping his hands behind himself. “Yes, we should.”

Silently, we left the forest and made our way back into town and to our shared room at the inn.Thesilence was agonizing as we walked, andIwanted nothing more than to ask a dozen questions.

Finally, the door to our room closed behind us, andIsighed in relief.

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