Part 24
Dafne sat in the garden with Aurora who was enjoying the sunlight and a goblet of wine. Thankfully she was in a good mood today; she hummed happily while Dafne was reading for her. The book was one of Aurora's favorites, King Arthur and the Legends of the Round Table. Dafne had been here for almost seven months now and Tristan still hadn't removed the mark on her wrist. She suspected that he wasn't planning to do that at all, why would he when he had made it clear that he wanted Dafne to stay with him and Aurora.
Apparently she was somehow helping Aurora, although she couldn't really understand how. According to Tristan, Dafne had "a very special aura", whatever that meant. All she knew was that she was becoming desperate. She had to find a way to escape.
"Do you want wine?" Aurora suddenly asked.
"No, thank you, my lady," Dafne replied.
"Are you not thirsty?"
"Not really."
Aurora smiled as she got into a sitting position.
"Hmm, I am. Would you mind?"
Dafne stayed calm as she handed her wrist to Aurora. The redhead caressed her wrist with her thumb before biting. Somehow she reminded Dafne of Klaus. They both treated her as their own walking supper.
"Much better," Aurora hummed after she was finished. "Have I ever told you that you are the best gift my brother has ever given to me?"
"No, my lady, you have not," Dafne replied, struggling to sound calm. She really wanted to kill Tristan.
"Well, you are," Aurora said and lied down on the cushions. "You silence the voices and make me feel peaceful."
"I am happy to hear that, my lady."
"No, you are not," Aurora hummed. "I might be insane, but I am not blind. You are miserable here, are you not?"
"Yes," Dafne replied simply, she didn't feel like lying.
Aurora looked at her and smiled.
"Oh, don't look so sad, it will get better, I promise. I am confident that you will eventually adjust. My brother has given you everything you could possibly need, has he not?"
Dafne didn't say anything, she was too angry to speak. Why the hell would she want to adjust to this? All she wanted was her freedom.
"Alright, shall we continue?" Aurora said cheerfully.
Dafne opened the book and continued reading. She didn't stop before Aurora fell asleep under the sunshade, as she often did. Silently Dafne stood up and walked towards the orchard. She couldn't leave the estate, but at least she could have a moment by herself for every now and then. The sudden hopelessness almost brought tears to her eyes, but she didn't let them out. She wasn't going to cry.
It was clear now that no one would help her; she needed to find a way to help herself. First of all, she needed to make Tristan to remove the mark. How? She had nothing she could use to bargain with him. Or maybe she did. He had expressed some kind of interest…No, she wasn't going to do that. He still made her dine with him and he was always polite, no matter how hostile she was.
Maybe she shouldn't be so hostile, what good had that done for her? And what if she wouldn't be? He would just suddenly decide to remove the mark? No, he wouldn't. That would take some work and effort. A lot of work and effort. How far was she willing to go for her freedom? Suddenly she spotted Tristan walking on the other side of the garden and made her decision. He hadn't noticed her yet, so she needed to act fast.
Something sharp… She found a sharp rock and lifted the hem of her dress before pressing the rock against her thigh until she bled. Then she fell down on the ground and let out a cry of pain. Tristan was beside her almost immediately.
"Dafne? Are you alright, did you hurt yourself?"
Alright, this was it…
"My leg," she murmured. "It hurts."
Carefully he turned her on her back and noticed the bloodstain on her dress.
"You are bleeding," he stated. "May I have your permission to examine your wound?"
"Yes," she replied, trying to sound as calm as she could.
She observed his face as he lifted the hem of her dress and looked under it. There it was. The lust. She had seen it before for so many times that she could certainly recognize it. He was still staring at her thigh and softly his fingers touched the wound.
"Is it bad?" she asked.
"No," he murmured. "I do not believe so, but it needs to be cleaned."
"Oh."
He cleared his throat before looking at her face.
"I can do that, if I may?"
She forced a smile on her face.
"Thank you, my lord."
"Of course." He paused and stood up. "May I lift you up?"
"Yes."
Carefully he lifted her up into his arms and started to carry her inside bridal style. It seemed that she did have something to bargain with, if she would be willing to sink that low. The thought filled her with bitterness, she was sick of this. Sick of everything. All she had wanted was to be free. Was that really too much to ask? Hadn't she paid the price for that already? Apparently not. Apparently she would have to once again sacrifice her dignity if she wanted her freedom back.