Page 61 of Glass Hearts
“Fuck, Princess. You are so strong, you know that? I am so sorry I ever doubted you,” Archer says as she sobs into his chest. He squeezes her tighter, kissing the top of her head every minute. Koi reaches for a tissue as I finish running the warm cloth along her body.
I lie next to Archer, reaching for her. Archer lets me hold her, knowing I need to feel her safely on me.
“Duchess,” Grayer says from the side of the bed, sounding calmer. “What happened to you, darling?” I can feel him reaching for her calf. All of us are touching her to make sure she is still here and okay.
“Bernice. Technically, Victor. Bernice would order the lashes every time she felt like I misbehaved or didn’t complete a chore to her liking. These scars—” She points to raised scars on her outer thigh and elbows, “—luckily aren’t too noticeable, but that came from the first time she pushed me down the stairs to the basement.”
“Why the fuck was she pushing you down the stairs?!” Koi growls, a low rumble in his chest. I shot him an angry glare, hoping he’d notice my warning to control his brewing rage. She sniffles into my chest and curls into me, as if she is looking to me for safety. I happily oblige as I squeeze her into me.
“When Victor was away… which was often, she would have me locked up in the dark basement as an alternative punishment.”
“FUCK, and we threatened the dungeon to her?!”
Shame fills my gut. It now makes sense why my Vixen shrinks whenever Bernice is around. It’s not just the deplorable verbal and mental abuse. She has been made to cower to the awful woman.
Bernice is going to die.
At some point, Arabella falls asleep in my arms. Not to disturb her, we all converse mentally.
“Screw the council and what they want. Those bitches are out of here tomorrow,” Grayer growls.
“I agree. I think we should also confirm that this selection process is all over, too. They probably think we were just throwing a tantrum today. I am going to tell them she is mine. Ours. I want to marry her. For us to marry her. Break her curse so she can be free from that cruel woman.”
Agreement and the feeling of love flow through the bond with my statement. Finally, we are all on the same page; we will never let her go.
* * *
We carry Arabella, still passed out, back to her old room in the morning. The other girls are already awake as I set her down on the bed. The other ladies can feel the heaviness as we enter the room.
“What happened?” Elora whispers to me.
“We saw her scars,” I gravely whisper back. Elora nods as she lies back down next to Arabella, cuddling next to her friend. Understanding the need for comfort even in her sleep. I have great respect and love for her best friend. Bri and Winona gasp quietly at the mention of scars.
“Take care of her this morning; we are going to the council today to make all this right.” I tuck a loose strand of Arabella’s hair behind her ear. She looks so peaceful.
I can’t wait to get rid of her stepfamily, to show her what being loved really feels like.
Archer grabs my forearm, pulling me away. We have work to do.
* * *
We knock as we enter Councilman Hendrickson’s office.
“Ah! Come in, boys. You are up early! Great timing, I just finished making coffee,” he says as he pours us each a cup, adding what I assume is milk and sugar. “I take it you have all come to your senses and are ready to get the final rounds of courting finished? It’s getting close to the time to pick a bride.” He chuckles as he hands us each a cup of coffee.
“That’s why we came here to talk, Albert. We are no longer going along with this ruse,” I say, getting right down to business. I sip the coffee, and it tastes extra bitter. All my brothers seem to make the same face after their sip.
“Is that right? And why, might I ask, have you turned your back on all the guidance and support we have given you? Fallen in love with a whore? Let me guess. Arabella.” He growls out her name. We all take a sharp breath. Menace and ire exude from the normally friendly Albert as he mutters a few incantation spells.
Before our eyes, the normally short, round man with ruddy cheeks changes into an older, taller, lean man with a braided beard and salt and pepper hair. He slowly gets up from his chair, shaking out the transformation. Disgust roils along his features until his mask of indifference rests upon his face.
“Finally, that wretched man’s body was awful.”
I go to attack him, but that’s when I notice—“I can’t move.”
“Sy, we can’t move either, what the fuck. Who is he?!” Koi growls down the bond.
“Ah, I can see from the angry eyes and voicelessness that my spell is taking effect. Haven’t your mothers ever taught you not to take drinks from strangers, boys?” He laughs. That’s when wenotice the door opening, and Bernice swans in as if she owns the room.
