Page 113 of Captive Bride

Isobel

I stare up at the cathedral’s vaulted ceiling.

The light from outside shines through the stained-glass windows, casting rainbows that flicker around the beams. It’s absolutely beautiful, standing in sharp contrast to the travesty that my life has become.

I crouch in my pew, a creature in hiding.

Over and over in my mind, I picture the doors to the church being thrown open.

I see my father and his men come to get me at last. In my head, they carry me, kicking and screaming from the safety of the cathedral. They deliver me straight to the Governor’s doorstep, a pretty little gift, only missing the bow.

I shudder at the thought, remembering the Governor’s coarse hands on my body, recalling the way they spun me around the dance floor. I’d rather die than go to that man.

Everything has gone so colossally wrong.

Tristan is gone. The one thing in this world that I had was him.

Now, I have nothing. No one.

Theo is dead, my parents are monsters, and the love of my life is shackled somewhere in a cage. He’s out of my reach, and once again, I’m powerless.

The thought of Tristan makes my heart race.

Being arrested is bad enough, but I can’t imagine that my father will stop there. Things in our world don’t end in convictions. They end in blood.

I see Theo, lying dead in that field.

Only now, it’s not Theo, it’s Tristan.

Tristan with a hole in his head. Tristan whose blood stains my legs. I see the nightmarish thoughts so clearly, me bathed in the blood of my love in the most unholy of baptisms.

My blood runs like ice through my veins. My dreams wither in my chest, seeming silly now that they’ve died. My hopes were nothing more than childish wishes.

No one in this world gets to be happy, least of all Tristan and I.

The realization dawns on me with the ring of utter truth. This was never going to work.

We were fools to think otherwise. Tristan is in chains, a man not long for this world. Soon, I’ll be a prisoner as well, my fate worse than death.

I stand slowly, the reality of my situation driving me to my feet. There’s nothing left to do. There’s nowhere to run, no happy ending.

I would be better off dead than in the hands of my father.

So that’s what I’ll be.

My spine is straight as I walk to the empty administration office, my head held high.

The short period I spent with Tristan was the only true happiness I ever knew. I feel grateful for it, even now. Through all of the pain suffered, all the lives lost, I don’t regret a moment.

I got to know love, real love. It was worth every tear.

I’m not crying now, not as I walk to the desk. Not as I pick up the pen. I scribble quickly, eager to be on with my plan now that I’ve made up my mind.

I am no one’s prisoner. Not anymore.

I will never be again.

I love you, Tristan.

---