She was asleep when he came down into the dungeons. Mary seemed to be sleeping more, now, which was a welcome change from the screaming fits she used to throw whenever he came to visit her. He completely understood her anger, but his hands were tied. Not as literally as hers, of course, but the constraints of the djinn's spell bound him as much as her.
Hieronymous put the plate of food down on the small table and carefully ensured he had thoroughly erased the doorway before he woke Mary. She yawned and grimaced, shooting him a baleful glare as she came fully awake.
"It's the evening of October 27th. How are you feeling?"
Mary spat at him, but there was no heart in it. Hieronymous forced a smile to his face. "I'm glad to hear that. I've brought you your supper - are you ready to eat?"
"Don't want to," she muttered.
"It's good for you," he said, and touched her wrists with his wand. The magical shackles fell away, and Mary immediately began massaging one wrist with her other hand. He hated that the shackles were necessary, but for the first few months Mary had seemed determined to escape or die trying. He had begun to worry he wouldn't be able to mend her cuts and bruises as fast as she was inflicting them.
That little ritual out of the way, Mary crossed to one of the two simple wooden chairs at the table and lowered herself into it. Hieronymous sat in the other and waited patiently while she ate her beef stew. She had incongruously good table manners, considering her life for the last seven months - being chained to a wall in a dungeon would have reduced anyone else to a wailing mess, but not his Mary. Past the first few weeks, her wailing and obstinance was mostly for show.
She finished the last few bits of carrot and potato, put her spoon carefully at two o'clock in her bowl, and sat back in her chair. "What subject will you lecture me on today?" she asked blankly.
"Would you prefer black magic, or blue?" he replied. Her indifference was a front, too - the only sop to her pride she had left. He chose to endure her tempers and her rudeness because they both knew those were the only things keeping her sane in this depressing sunless room.
"Will either one get me out of here?"
Hieronymous sighed. "Not until the end of the year, Mary. Every day you ask and every day I have to give the same answer."
"And every day I threaten to kill you if I ever get out of here."
"Yes."
"Not today."
He searched her face, but couldn't read her expression.
"I'm sick of fighting you," she said. "I want to go back to classes again. I'll study this time. I want to see Ellen and Virginia, and I want to see my parents again-"
"You can't," he said. It killed him to have to be so blunt, but she needed to face the truth. "You would have been expelled from Iris Academy already if it hadn't been for - current circumstances - and since I am legally and magically bound to protect you, you must remain here."
"So don't send me back as a student. Take me back as your wife."
Hieronymous blinked. She seemed perfectly serious. "I don't see how that could-"
"Cast empathy on me," she demanded. "I'm not lying to you - I'm ready to leave this dungeon. I know all you probably feel for me now is pity, but honestly, I'll accept that if it means I can have back some of my freedom."
He hesitated a long moment, but she had invited him . . . Mary sat very still as he flicked his wand in the complicated shape which would open her mind to him.
And what he found rocked him back on his heels.