I don’t really expect him to answer. He’s already given me a valuable piece of information.
“You saw it in the armory. We typically only use the well once a week or so. The leftover water is repurposed to treat weapons and fortify our walls.”
“This seems like quite a journey for your people to go on to pay their blood tithes. I assume you do them all on the same day instead of having daily rotations like we do in Lunameade,” I say.
Henry shakes his head. “We don’t do regular blood tithes. People only tithe if they choose to, once a year on Founder’s Day.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. If they don’t tithe to the well, surely it affects the well’s magic—but I don’t want to say that and insult him when he’s offering me a way to heal.
He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms. “Now, have I satisfied your curiosity? Will you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can help if the well can’t.”
I shake my head. “No healer’s magic has worked.”
He frowns, but there’s a curious gleam in his dark eyes. “What is it?”
I step to the edge of the pool and stare down at my reflection. I don’t know what I expect. Even I have trouble understanding how something invisible can ail me so severely. It makes it feel less real, or at least like I shouldn’t bother anyone with it.
“At least it’s not a visible affliction. Thank the Divine for that. At least this beauty can be of use.”My mother’s words are seared into my mind. I wonder what she would say if she could see how messy my hair is in front of my husband-to-be.
This is a gift my parents have naturally—no Divine blessing required. Their words are always with me; I can’t shake their disapproval even if I’ve shaken their observation for the moment.
“Are you homesick?” Henry asks, startling me from my thoughts.
I laugh. The question is so absurd to me. I have been waiting to escape that house for twenty-four years—ever since my magic showed up. Of course, living at the fort is more dangerous than being safe behind the fortified walls in Lunameade, but it’s also the most freedom I’ve ever had, and while the scrutiny is still substantial and drenched in loathing, no one here is scolding me for looking tired or messy.
Henry probably has no idea what that’s like; his parents are doting. They welcomed him at that dinner with true warmth, not the fake performance like my parents put on.
It’s hard for me to fathom that kind of nurturing. I’ve thrived in spite of my parents, not because of them. The roots of defiance dug down deep into my bones. I don’t want to be this way, but I don’t know anything else.
“No. I could not be less homesick. Why do you ask?”
“You seem to take every opportunity to make jabs at how wild it is here.”
I finally look up at him. “Itiswild here.”
He waits for me to say more, but I can ice him out until he leaves.
I swallow and gesture to the glowing pool of water. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
It’s meant to be a dismissal, but he stays. The silence stretches.
I wait for him to leave, to realize that this is a line I won’t cross, even for my duty. Revealing this secret now could throw this whole agreement into peril.
Instead of retreating, he unbuttons his collar and then his sleeves, a hint of defiance in his eyes.
“What are you doing?” I rasp.
“I’m bathing with my fiancée in my family’s well. Suppose she’s overcome by her pain and slips beneath the water. How would I live with myself if I wasn’t there to be of assistance?”
My skin heats as I glare at him. “And if she doesn’t wish to bathe with you?”
He waves a hand at the stairwell behind him. “Then she’s welcome to leave.”
I could. It would be easy to walk away and leave him here, but I want to know what this well does, and I’m afraid that if I don’t go in now, I’ll lose my nerve for good. Who knows if I’ll have another chance with such easy access to it?
I glance at the shimmering water. I’m afraid to even hope for healing. I’m surprised I can still feel any semblance of hope that I’ll find a cure for this peculiar pain that ails me. The episodes have been so debilitating for so long, and trying to hide it from my new in-laws so they don’t think me defective has been a chore. Right now, I’m too broken by the pain that pounds dully in my temples to pretend.
Henry tosses off his shirt, revealing a broad, muscled chest and abdomen. But it’s not his physique that makes me gasp. His skin is atapestry of vicious scars—most notably, jagged claw marks crisscross his chest, shiny and several shades lighter than his skin, and a bumpy white scar that looks like a dagger was slid between his left ribs.
