“Are you alright?”
Again, silence. Estelle walked to the other side of the bed, where Juliet's face came into view. A wave of pity swam up her face once she saw how red Juliet's eyes were.
She had been crying all night.
“I'm a useless wife.” Juliet lamented, her voice on the brink of fading.
Estelle said nothing for a while. This was delicate. She didn't want to say anything that would upset Juliet even more.
“I need to apply the ointment on your hand, milady.” Estelle called. Her eyes darted to the dresser beside the bed and landed on the tiny vial. “We need your hand to heal as soon as possible.”
“Good. It has to.” Juliet responded, the weakness in her voice still evident. “Because I intend to go to the garden this morning.”
“Milady, I do not think that is—”
“You cannot stop me, Estelle.” Juliet retorted, her voice fully loaded.
A moment of silence passed between them, and Juliet shifted on the bed.
“Let me at least take a look at your hand.” Estelle called.
Juliet drew a long sigh and finally rose. Estelle watched her mistress slowly place her feet on the floor and raise herself from the bed. She studied Juliet's face. Marks of the untidied sheets rested across the right side.
“Lady Beatrice all but called me useless last night.” Juliet started once Estelle made her way to the bath. The ritual was practically ingrained in the back of her brain at this point. Her maid fetched a clean bowl of water, ran her hand through thewater, and applied the ointment and a fresh change of cloth. While the pain had significantly reduced, it still stung her from time to time.
“I am so sorry that you had to face that, milady.” Estelle said, starting the ritual.
“Anne said Helena Waters was who Weston was supposed to marry. Lady Beatrice had it all arranged, but Weston was uninterested.”
“Really?”
“And last night was some sort of comeback. Her way of lashing out at me for standing in the way of her son's happiness because of some—scandal.”
Estelle looked over at the other side of the bed. It looked slept in, but she couldn't be too sure.
“Where is Lord Weston?”
“He snuck out before I could wake up this morning. I bet he feels just as bad as I do.”
“Hm. I bet he does.”
The skies continued to darken even more, and gentle thunder rippled across the clouds.
“Are you really sure this is the best idea, milady? Going out in this weather? It might rain soon.”
“If I have to stay in this room longer than necessary, I might cease to breathe. Weston went for a ride before breakfast. I need something to clear my head too.”
Estelle nodded. “Very well.”
Soon, the treatment on Juliet's hand had been completed.
“You are not useless. I hope you know that.” Estelle called, grabbing the bowl. “You are far from it.”
“It's hard not to feel different about that. This whole thing had been a disaster from the start. The marriage, this life, this house. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. You know that.”
Estelle sighed. “And look. You've managed to make the best of a bad situation, at least as much as you could. Do you think that makes you useless? Or anything that comes close to that?”
Estelle turned to look at the fields outside the window. She stared at the dry stems swaying to the gentle winds, at the giant oak tree dancing to the tune of the breeze.
