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Chapter 7

Ulcer of Hate


Bella


I pondered all morning about why he had ever done that last night.

Why hadn't he stopped when I asked him to? I just couldn't understand it. Was he not interested in me after all?

Bored, I scribbled away on my pad.

Then I wrote.

Intelligence alone is not enough,

if a bit of wisdom and our dignity is missing here.

Our optimism is not enough,

if we lack the strength to do so.

Living alone in this world is not enough either,

if the magic of our face is missing.

Love is not enough,

if the courage for truth is missing.

At some point James left the room briefly to get the book for me next door. He put it next to me on the table.

"Thank you," I said.

I stared into the room and hoped that time would pass. Wandered up and down. Like a bird in a golden cage. That's exactly how I felt.

Then I sat at the table again.

There was a knock and I winced in shock.

James opened.

"Oh ... Your Majesty," he said, bowing.

A brunette lady entered and approached me smiling.

"I heard my son brought a young lady with him and I wanted to say hello to you, miss," she said kindly.

Her laugh was hearty and genuine.

I rose and extended my hand to her.

She squeezed it gently and sat down in the seat next to me.

Her eyes were golden like James'.

"Isabella," I said softly.

"A very pretty name," she said. "Have you settled in a bit?" she then asked.

I nodded.

She sighed.

"Am I right in assuming that Edward didn't ask you if you wanted to come here?" she asked.

I nodded again.

She just gently pulled me into her arms.

"I'm sorry, Isabella. I want you to know that I don't approve."

I looked at her.

She was still smiling kindly. An incredible warmth and love radiated all around her.

Too bad her son didn't get any of that.

The conversation became a bit more relaxed and we talked about my studies, books.

Esmé was really sweet, she had something maternal for me.

"We'd have to spice up your room a bit," she noted.

She pulled me off the chair with a smile.

"There's a picture missing from the wall, isn't there?" she asked.

"Yes, that would be nice," I said.

"What kind of pictures do you like?" she asked.

"Hundertwasser is my favorite. I had a calendar with pictures of him, that makes happy," I said.

"How about something a little more cheerful curtains?" asked Esmé, and we walked over to the window.

I opened it to let the sun in.

"What color would you like?" asked Esmé.

I pondered.

"Since the bed is pink and so are the covers on the chairs, I guess the color choices aren't that great," I noted.

She nodded, "That's right."

At that moment the door opened. James stepped aside and Edward entered the room.

His mother looked towards him, smiling happily, and my facial features slipped away in panic.

Esmé noticed - she seemed to be very sensitive.

James looked worriedly at me.

Edward saw his mother and approached her with a smile.

"Hello, Mom dear," he said, kissing her cheeks left and right.

"Edward," she smiled and hugged him lightly.

Then he turned to me and took a step toward me.

I instinctively backed away in panic.

He stopped and said, "Good afternoon, Isabella."

I nodded and said nothing.

Even if I had wanted to, I couldn't get a sound out.

"Edward," his mother breathed in horror. "What have you done to her?" she asked with a threatening undertone.

He looked at his mother, remained silent and then looked back at me.

"Edward," she was almost hysterical. "Don't tell me you dared to mistreat her?"

Again he looked at his mother and I couldn't take it anymore, slowly backed away and then ran into the bathroom. For the first time I locked myself in and let myself sink to the floor inside by the door. The tears were running.

I was afraid of him, really afraid.

At some point it became quieter in my room. I heard no more voices.

"Princess Magnolia, it's all right. It's me, your James, and they're gone. You can come out," he said outside the door and I heard the concern for me in his voice.

Slowly I got up, unlocked the door and went out.

James looked at me worriedly and then just pulled me into his arms.

I cried a little bit.

"I'm so glad I have you, James," I sobbed.

"Of course, my Princess. I will never leave you alone again. I'm glad to have you, too. What you have done for me, no one has ever done for me before," he said softly.

"Did his mother say anything else?", I asked.

"Yes, she properly gave him a piece of her mind. She insisted on knowing what he had done and was then completely horrified. She has no sympathy for rape. She will be on your side now, too. But now you have to eat, it has come in the meantime," he said and led me to the table.

I wasn't hungry at all and poked around in it. At some point I pushed the plate away and stood up. I needed movement, I felt locked in.

So I walked up and down.

The room was big. Forty steps there, forty steps back.

James watched me worriedly.

"If you added his room, it might be more varied, Your Highness," he said.

"I will not enter that room again voluntarily, James," I said.

Later, I stood at the open window and looked out.

The air was lovely warm. I would love to sit in the sun down there in the garden now.

Tears were running again, I could not help it.

I tried not to sob and just let the tears run, then James wouldn't notice and wouldn't be so worried.

There was a knock and from the greeting I heard that it must be Esmé again.

She stepped up to me and said softly, "Hello, dear Isabella!"

"Hello," I said softly, not daring to look because I didn't want her to see me crying.

But I didn't know Esmé then. She gently turned me around, then fetched a handkerchief and tenderly wiped my face. Then she simply squeezed me.

"I got you a Hundertwasser, would you like to look at it?" she asked.

"I'd love to," I said, and she led me to the table.

There lay a package ... flat. Carefully we unwound the paper and a round Hundertwasser came to light.

"Is he for real?", I asked in amazement.

"Of course," Esmé said. "I'll give you that one."

"Oh ... thank you," I said, touched. "I've never received anything so beautiful as a gift!"

Again the tears ran and I hugged Esmé to me.

She was visibly pleased that I was so happy about it.

"James, could you please arrange for the painting to be hung?" asked Esmé James kindly.

"But of course, Your Majesty," James said, and he left the room briefly.

Two minutes later he was back, armed with hammer and nail. He went to the large empty wall.

"No, please not there," I said, and they both looked at me in amazement.

"I'd like to be able to see it from the bed, then it would have to go there," I said, pointing to my preferred spot for the picture.

Esmé smiled.

James nodded and hung the picture exactly where I wanted it.

I looked at it for a long time - it was beautiful.

"Thank you, Esmé," I said once again.

"I'm glad you like it so much," she said with a smile.

"It's a bright spot in this room," I sighed.

Esmé stayed a little while longer. It was really nice with her. Then she said goodbye because she had to go to her husband.

I looked at my Hundertwasser.

Somehow I still could hardly believe it. Such a precious beautiful picture.

The afternoon dragged on.

I read.

In the evening came with the dinner Edward.

He kept his distance from me and gave me a friendly greeting.

I did not greet.

He looked at the picture.

"It's really very nice," he noted.

Then he got a small flower vase from his room, put it on my table, went outside my door again and got a branch with buds. He put it into the vase. The petals of the thick buds shimmered pink and white.

Magnolias.

Then he leaned an envelope against the vase and went into his room.

I looked at the branch. The envelope. And I decided to change and end this sucky day.

So I got up and took a shower, changed clothes and hopped into bed with the book.

"My Princess, you haven't touched the food," James said anxiously.

"I can't eat when I feel like this, James," I said.

Eventually I got tired, put the book down, and prayed that Edward wouldn't get the idea to come into my room.

I fell asleep.