The Little Things
Daemon's heart twisted viciously when he saw how Jaenelle grabbed her side and grimaced in pain. It was worse now than it had been even a few days earlier. Always worse. Always more painful. She was pale, and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. He reached over and took her hand in his. She smiled at him, but it did not hide the pain she was in. He stood up and wrapped the blanket more tightly around her small form. It hurt him more than he could have ever imagined when she did not snap at him for being fussy. The lump in his throat threatened to surface, but he buried it ruthlessly.
She will be alright, he told himself. Over and over and over again. Always he told himself that, but never did it do any good. He prayed to the Darkness, oh how he prayed! But nothing worked. No amount of healers, and no amount of prayers stopped the disease.
Seeing that anguished look in his golden eyes, Jaenelle reached up and brushed his cheek with the back of her hand. She could not say what he wanted, needed to hear, because it would be a lie. They both knew in their hearts it would be a lie. She could not lie to Daemon. All he had ever known was lies. Lies and hatred and deceit. She loved him, and wanted him to be happy, but she could not lie. Not to him.
The silence was broken by a shrill scream. "Papa!" Their young daughter, Cassandra, bounced into the room, and grabbed Daemon around the knees. Her dark brown hair was a mass of tangles. "Mornin'!" Her cheerfulness made him want to fall to his knees and weep.
Jaenelle smiled. "What is Mrs. Beale making for breakfast?"
Cassie wrinkled her nose and shrugged. "How should I know? I'm not allowed in there."
The thin layer of ice around Daemon's heart cracked and melted. How could he spoil her joy? He ruffled her hair, and she snarled at him. "Why don't you go and find out?"
Cassandra mumbled something he thankfully did not understand before running out of the room. He turned slowly to Jaenelle and smiled ruefully. They both knew the question that was lingering between them.
Will you live to see her grown?
They both knew the answer.
No.
He sat down beside her, unwilling to leave just yet. His place was beside her, and it would always be. He kissed her lightly on the mouth. He would not part with her. Not until he had to. The thought brought a new pain to the surface. One he had tried to ignore. What would become of him when she was gone?