Three days of mating and a hard slam into an even harder wall had resulted in substantial damage, but Chrysanthyllis barely felt any pain as the doctor named Andrea poked and probed at her in various places she had closed her mind to. The last shut-eye she had lasted only an hour or two, and she wanted nothing more than to slide down the bed and lay on her side, curl into a ball and fall into a deep, deep sleep. 

She had many questions that needed answers, and Zion told her that he would see her after the doctor examined her. Her body was fatigued, but she doubted she would be able to let herself be fully taken by slumber if her mind was fraught with anxieties.

Andrea stood up. She bowed her head, hands clasped over each other just below her breasts in the stance of a respectful servant. Such conduct, towards her specifically, was sporadic enough that Chrysanthyllis felt like a foreigner in a faraway land, a being that commanded veneration. She dipped her head, uneasy.

“My lady, while your injuries are quite extensive, you will be fine with rest and abstinence. If I may advise your ladyship so, no bedroom duties for at least two weeks. You need to heal.”

“Thank you, Andrea.”

“It is my honour, my lady. I shall report my findings to your attendant and be on my way.”

Oh, bless. Elliot was going to hear all about the sorry state of her genitals and her head, and she most definitely would not be able to face him, not after all the meals he brought to their door while they were in the throes of heated copulation. 

Knock, knock.

Zion popped his head in by the door. “My lady.”

Chrysanthyllis smiled awkwardly. He likely heard it all from Elliot, and her cheeks reddened.

“May I carry you to your room and assist you in your bath?”

She was mortified, not because she had never been attended to in a bath before, but because he offered. Not a single maid in the palace would even think to ask, unless they were ready to soak her in a tub full of the blood of those unlucky enough to pity her.

“Carrying me, please. I…can bathe on my own.”

A monster nod later, Chrysanthyllis found herself clothed in sheets and snug against Zion’s shoulder in the one-arm carry that she had grown used to and fond of. His imposing figure radiated warmth, comfort and safety, and she naturally relaxed into him as they made their way to her bathroom.

Inside, he untangled her from the sheets. White tinged red, like her hair, dropped to the floor, and Chrysanthyllis was once again naked in Zion’s presence. Ever considerate, he eased her into the warm bath before she started shivering like a puppy caught in the rain. Wisps of red unravelled into the clear water. 

“Won’t you allow me to help you at all, my lady?”

She pursed her lips thinly. “Why?”

“I care for you.”

Care. No one had ever told her that before. Here, in Huvestria, away from the eyes and ears of the empress, perhaps it was okay for him to care for her. No one would hurt him, so no one could hurt her through him.

“Please,” she whispered.

Zion’s grin was not just a monster one; in it, she felt genuine happiness. She stewed in silence as he thumbed her scalp, washed her hair. Red water splashed onto the floor, her hair and scalp cleansed of bloodshed. He moved to her back and her arms with a soft cloth. This was care that she coveted as a child, but ended up fearing for most of her life.

“Your Grace.”

“My lady.”

“May I ask...your name?”

There was a smile in his voice when he replied. “Kyzar. Would you call me that instead?”

“But…you are a noble.”

“If it bothers you, how about when we are alone? In this castle, no one would turn a head.”

Chrysanthyllis lowered her head, smiling a small smile with her chin submerged in the water. She felt oddly happy, dizzy even, as she said his name in her head a few times before it danced on the tip of her tongue. “Kyzar.”

“Chrys.”

Her skin prickled as warmth blossomed from within her chest. Was this what care was? Kyzar, her sanctuary, her Zion, the man within a monster who treated her like she was important. Around him, she did not feel like a burden. He cared of her, truly. Even though she had not been socialised well, she was sure that Kyzar was not doing this purely out of obligation or guilt; in his gentle fingers, there was a sincere desire to treat her well.

“May I join you in your room tonight?”

She tentatively turned her head, looking him over her shoulder. “Why?”

“I just want to stay close to you. If you’d let me.”

She turned back, dropping her head slightly as she stared at her knees. She had not expected Kyzar to be such a character. For the first time in her life, she had met someone who actually appeared to want her around. Indeed, he needed her if he wanted to break his curse, but there was more to it than mere necessity. Perhaps he was aware his facial expressions did not reveal much, that he spoke to her with such openness, a candid thoughtlessness that she was very much unaccustomed to. But, she did not dislike it.

“You haven’t slept at all,” she pointed out quietly.

Splash!

Chrysanthyllis turned around to see Kyzar dumping a wooden bucket of water over himself. He was much rougher on himself, markedly different from how he had soaped her up and rinsed her off. He tended to her like the finest silk garments, yet he treated himself like armour in battle, its sole purpose to bear the brunt of attacks. He made her heart feel funny things.

In her room, Kyzar settled her in bed before joining her under the sheets. Other than the sound of their breathing, the air was quiet. She closed her eyes. Her body, heavy with fatigue, became one with the bed, and she barely noticed a muscular purple arm reach over to her as her mind drifted into black clouds.

When Chrysanthyllis awoke, another day had passed. Another night spent in Kyzar’s arms. 

Awkwardly, quietly, so as to not wake the slumbering monster, Chrysanthyllis nimbly manoeuvred out of his embrace. Sat on her heels, she watched him for a moment. Like his mouth that never frowned, his eyes could never close. She doubted he had eyelids at all, but she could tell he was sleeping because there was no light in the two red orbs set in his face. He looked peaceful.

While Kyzar slept, Chrysanthyllis sat on the floor and practiced her magic. With every day that she spent in this place, she was growing stronger. The curse that the empress had casted on her placed a seal on her power, limiting her to only a portion of what she was capable of. Because she was becoming more powerful as a whole, that little portion, too, had been expanding. After that incident in the forest with Avis, her shields had taken on a more solid form, granting her more confidence in their ability to take a considerable amount of damage before they cracked.

“Chrys.”

The rich, molten voice of Kyzar. Chrysanthyllis jolted, and her ears burned bright red as she inadvertently imagined it pitched two octaves lower, huskily calling her name while their bodies were intertwined. After handing her purity to him over the course of three days, she wondered if that was all it took to turn her into such an immodest woman, or if she had always been that way and just had not had the circumstance to realise it.

“Your Grace, you’re up.”

“You promised me, Chrys.”

“I’m sorry. I’m…not used to this.”

He sighed. “I won’t force you. Would you join me for breakfast in my study? I believe we have plenty to discuss, with Elliot too.”

Chrysanthyllis nodded. He sounded more disappointed than he did angry, and she could not decide which discomfited her more. The empress’s wrath terrified her for most of her life, but even that seemed more preferable if it meant she did not have to hear the downcast lilt in Kyzar’s voice. She, too, wanted to sigh. Since coming to Huvestria, she hardly understood herself.

A warm, hearty soup awaited them in Kyzar’s study. While she nibbled on soft yam and sweet potato, Kyzar busied himself with paperwork. He looked happy. The last time she was in here, he had not touched any documents or stationery. Seeing him, purple monster and all, three fingers holding a pen, signing off papers, was strange, but also uplifting. He had been imprisoned for too long, and to be able to do even the smallest things on his own, without having to rely on another, was probably very freeing for him.

“My lady, how are you feeling today?”

“I’m alright, thank you, Elliot.”

At his desk, Kyzar flinched. Chrysanthyllis bit down on her lip. He probably regretted everything they had done in all the time they spent together, because she was now a burden. Had she been aware this was how things would turn out, would she have gone on to make the same decisions? Would she still have wanted to engage with him?

The answer was yes.

Unequivocally, irrevocably, yes.

Because for once, she felt like she actually mattered, and it was him who made her feel that way. When they had been right on the edge, when she finally grasped the meaning behind his repetitive caresses on her belly and said the words he had been waiting for, when he could allow himself to let go at long last, she could have sworn she saw tears around the bottom rim of the red orbs in his face. He had looked at her with feelings that went bone-deep.

A burden she may be in his eyes, but an important one all the same. He could not let her go just yet.

“Your Grace, now that you can speak, would you like to give us a rundown of what actually happened when you and Horan met seven years ago?”

Millse Horan.

Chrysanthyllis’s stomach churned. She had been worn out, near brain-dead, but none of those could excuse her for forgetting that it was her aunt, one of the most powerful witches in the empire, who was the reason for Kyzar’s suffering. Of all people, it had to be someone she was related to, and someone who had nothing to lose.

“She wanted a deal. Of marriage. She also wanted the forest. Obviously, I rejected her, and here I am now.”

His voice was bitter and full of anger, and Chrysanthyllis balled her hands into fists. Did she confess now, and accept punishment, or should she try to hide it, and live in fear of the day when truth prevailed? Blood was draining from her face, and without further thought, she pushed herself away from the table and dropped to her knees.