Chapter 14

Shocked by Henry's confession, Catherine turned her head to detain him from seeing how much his words were affecting her. To hear him confess his love - even after all these years - unsettled her in a rather unexpected way. But instead of granting her the space she needed, Henry pulled her even tighter into his arms and showered the tender curve of her neck with numerous kisses.
"Henry," she started but faltered, unable to put her thoughts into words. And what exactly should she tell him in the first place? This whole situation seemed surreal.
"Are you okay?" her husband asked tenderly, his voice overflown by worry as if sensing her inner turmoil.
"I don't know," she answered and against her better judgment Catherine felt herself nestling up against Henry's solid body.

"Are you in pain?" His voice resonated with concern and the fact that he worried so much about her well-being as of late moved Catherine beyond reason.
"No. Well, not more than usual," she said in all honesty and her answer prompted him to place another kiss on the nape of her neck.
"I wish I could help you ease the pain."
This remark made her pause for a moment before she turned her head to stare into his brown, sorrowful eyes.
She would just love to tell him that he was already helping her, that his mere presence and his considerate behaviour already made her feel better. And that this was actually the first time in month where this throbbing, ubiquitous pain wasn't dominating her very being for once.

But Catherine remained silent and buried her face into the crook of his neck instead.
"Don't you think that it's time to tell me what exactly has happened, my love?" Henry's fingers carefully ran over the cicatricial tissue of her left arm. Driven by fear and shame, Catherine tried to pull her arm out of his grasp, but the way her husband was holding her and the gentleness directed at her broke her resistance.
"I want to bring the people to justice who did this to you."
Catherine hesitated. She didn't feel comfortable talking about the events which led her to being crippled. Most of the time she avoided thinking, let alone talking about her assault. But the pleading way her husband looked at her made her heart melt with tenderness.
"They were masked. At least a dozen men, maybe more. We've been ambushed. They have literally massacred my soldiers in cold blood. And I was only able to catch a glimps at one of the men's faces when I tore off his hood while fighting him off." Her voice sounded flat and alien.

This was the first time she was actually talking about the attack after she had woken up in the convent run by Reverend Mother Agnes. She had been in a disoriented, battered state, more dead than alive. And she only had fragmentary memories of that day, but the image of the man who had dragged her out of the carriage by her hair and who had mercilessly punched her in the face, still haunted her. Grinning like a maniac and full of malice he had grabbed her and pressed her face down into the wet grass. Then he had torn her left arm back with brute force. Sometimes she still could hear the sickening sound of the joint of her shoulder dislocating from its socket. But the pain of a dislocated shoulder was nothing compared to the agony her body had to endure when this son of a bitch had started cutting an acrid pattern into the skin of her arm. All the while whistling an old folk tune.

"He had a long scar that ran over half of his face." Catherine hesitantly started to put together the tiny tags of memories she was finally sharing with Henry to get a better picture of the horrible things that had happened to her. Not once did she look up while talking, she rather muttered the words into his shoulder.
Through it all her husband was just holding her, caressing her naked back, rocking her gently and giving her the time she needed to process this terrible experience.

"I will find this man and I swear to you he will regret the day he was born," Henry promised her after she had finished with her story. Catherine didn't have to look into his face to see the anger that had captured him. She could feel it by how tense his muscles were and by the way he was grinding with his teeth. But especially by how tightly he was holding her. A calming and at the same time frightening reaction.

All of this, the reprocessing of her assault, their sweet love-making and Henry's confession brought tears to Catherine's eyes. Tears she tried to blink away. She hated crying.
Medici's didn't cry.
Not in front of other people.
And certainly not in front of Henry.

"But you've survived, sweetheart. And from now on you're going to be all right. I promise you."
"I wish I could believe that," she said sadly. Her inexistent confidence prompted Henry to put some distance between them to better look at her.
"Trust me, because I do. Your elopement opened my eyes, Catherine. I didn't expect myself to miss you and yet I did. Maybe we have emotionally and physically grown apart from each other during the last years and yes, we will have to re-learn how to get along with each other. But I want you back, Caterina. Back at my side, back as my queen and back as my wife."

Henry finished his speech by kissing her. For the blink of an eye Catherine allowed her husband to lull her in with his caresses, but then her rational mind gained the upper hand.
"But how long will it last this time, Henry? Two, maybe three weeks? Diane is awaiting you back at court. And so is Kenna and countless other girls who would die to be in my place."
She needed to be realistic and couldn't allow his sweet and beguiling words to win her over. Nor could she allow herself to be taken in by an illusion.
"Please don't make empty promises. Out here, things might feel diffrent due to a lack of distractions and female temptations, but..." Henry interrupted her and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.
"You are not a means to an end for me, honey. I'm serious. I love you".

His affirmation caused Catherine to close her eyes for a second. When she reopened them, she looked straight into the dark windows of Henry's very soul. They literally begged her to believe him.
"I don't know what else to tell you to convince you, Catherine."
When she didn't react but just stared at him at a loss, Henry reached out to her to take hold of a strand of her hair.
"Words may say a lot, but deeds tell the truth," she replied.
Henry shook his head and let go of her hair.
"Then promise me not to turn away from me as long as I walk the talk, my love," he demanded while his fingers were gently stroking her bare back.

At that moment Catherine realized that she couldn't turn her back on Henry, even if she wanted to. Not when he behaved like he did just now, showering her with love and attentiveness. So she decided to enjoy his attention as long as it lasted.

Yet she swore to never offer him her heart again.
For she didn't have the strength to put it back together after he had torn it to pieces once he got tired of her again.

That's it – a bit short, I know, sorry for that. But I hope you still like it.
Thanks for your kind reviews!