Damned by Him

For the next two days, Rosaline remained in the mansion under the watchful eyes of Xandros and the servants, and although no one openly tried to restrain her, she never quite felt as though she was free, because every movement she made seemed to attract someone’s attention and every decision she attempted to make was quietly followed by another suggestion that she should rest, eat, or allow someone else to handle whatever task she had decided to undertake, and while she understood that their concern came from everything that had happened to her, the constant attention gradually became more suffocating than comforting.

Still, Rosaline cooperated.

She ate whatever was placed before her, even when she had little appetite, and she took the medicines given to her without arguing, partly because she knew her body needed time to recover and partly because she had grown tired of seeing the worried expressions that appeared whenever she refused something, and each morning she found herself feeling slightly better than the day before, the weakness that had clung to her limbs slowly retreating until she could finally walk through the corridors without feeling as though her body might betray her.

Christophine remained one of the few things she could not completely become comfortable with.

Although the woman was no longer a threat to her, there was something about knowing that Christophine was wearing Lily’s body that made Rosaline instinctively cautious, and whenever Christophine appeared in the same room, Rosaline found herself watching her movements more closely than she intended, wondering whether the woman standing before her was truly Lily or the witch who had once attempted to destroy Saline.

Christophine, naturally, seemed to find Rosaline’s discomfort amusing.

She never pressed her directly, but there were moments when her eyes would linger on Rosaline with a strange familiarity, as though she could see something beneath the surface that Rosaline herself could not, and those moments were enough to remind Rosaline that whatever existed inside her was still a secret even she had not completely uncovered.

By the morning of the third day, however, something had changed.

Rosaline woke before sunrise.

For several moments, she remained beneath the blankets, staring at the pale ceiling while she listened to the quiet rhythm of the mansion beginning to awaken beyond her chamber, and when she finally sat up, she expected the familiar heaviness to settle over her body.

It didn’t.

Instead, she felt strangely light.

Her muscles no longer ached as they had before, her breathing felt deeper, and there was a steady warmth beneath her skin that made her feel stronger than she had in days.

Rosaline lowered her gaze toward her hands and slowly flexed her fingers.

She felt different.

Better.

Stronger.

Perhaps the medicine was finally working.

She reached for the small bottle that had been left beside her bed and studied it for a moment before taking the prescribed dose, swallowing it with a little water and setting the bottle aside, and within minutes, the strange heaviness she had carried for so long seemed to disappear completely.

A small smile touched her lips.

"Finally," she murmured, her fingers curling around the edge of the blanket as she pushed herself to her feet.

Today, she was leaving.

Not the mansion forever, but she was finally going somewhere beyond its walls, and the thought alone filled her with a sense of freedom she had almost forgotten she wanted.

By the time Rosaline entered the breakfast room, she was already dressed for travel.

Her clothes were practical rather than elaborate, allowing her enough freedom to move comfortably, while her silver-white hair had been gathered loosely behind her shoulders, and although she still looked slightly paler than usual, there was a noticeable strength in her posture that had not been there days earlier.

Xandros was already seated at the table.

He looked up the moment she entered, and his grey eyes immediately travelled over her from head to toe as though checking for any sign that she was still unwell.

Rosaline noticed.

"You can stop inspecting me," she said as she approached the table, a faint smile appearing on her lips. "I’m fine."

Xandros’ expression remained calm, although the slight narrowing of his eyes suggested that he was not entirely convinced.

"I’ll decide that."

Rosaline rolled her eyes as she took her seat.

"You always decide everything."

"And that’s why," Xandros replied, calmly reaching for his cup, "you are still alive."

She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head, unable to stop the faint smile that appeared on her face.

Breakfast passed more peacefully than she had expected, and once they had finished eating, Xandros finally told her what had been arranged.

"We’re leaving by noon"

Rosaline looked up immediately.

"Noon?"

Xandros nodded as he set his cup down.

"We’re heading west first."

Her brows drew together.

"The west?"

"There is something I need to investigate there before we continue to your kingdom," he explained, watching her carefully as he spoke. "It will delay the journey slightly, but it is necessary."

Rosaline considered his words for a moment before nodding.

"All right."

She had expected to feel frustrated at the thought of another delay, but instead, curiosity began to replace it, because whatever Xandros had discovered in the west seemed important enough to change their route, and she wanted to understand exactly what they were walking into.

By late morning, the mansion had become unusually busy.

Servants moved through the corridors carrying luggage, clothing, supplies, and travel provisions, while several guards prepared the horses and carriage outside, and Rosaline stood in the middle of her chamber watching as her belongings were gradually packed away.

She frowned when one of the servants reached for a large travelling bag.

"I’ll carry that."

The servant immediately looked toward Xandros.

Xandros, who had been standing near the doorway, raised an eyebrow.

"No."

Rosaline turned toward him.

"I can carry my own bag."

"You don’t need to."

"I said I can."

Xandros sighed quietly.

"And I said you don’t need to."

Rosaline walked over before he could stop her and took hold of the handle herself, lifting the bag with surprising ease, and the moment she realized how light it felt in her hands, her expression brightened with satisfaction.

"See?"

She looked toward Xandros almost triumphantly.

"I can carry it."

Xandros stared at the bag and then at her.

"That doesn’t mean you should."

Rosaline ignored him.

She carried the bag into the corridor, leaving Xandros standing behind her with an expression that suggested he was already regretting allowing the argument to continue.

The staircase proved to be another matter entirely.

Rosaline descended carefully at first, one hand resting lightly against the railing while she carried the bag with the other, and although the weight was manageable, she was still becoming accustomed to her renewed strength and was perhaps a little too confident in how well her body had recovered.

She reached the final few steps.

Then, perhaps because she was distracted by something below, she stepped forward too quickly and attempted to skip one of the stairs.

Her foot landed awkwardly.

For one brief second, her balance disappeared.

Rosaline’s eyes widened.

But before she could fall, an arm wrapped securely around her waist and pulled her backward.

She found herself pressed against Xandros’ chest.

His other hand caught the travelling bag before it could hit the floor.

Rosaline froze.

Xandros looked down at her with an expression that was somewhere between tiredness and concern.

"Are you trying to modify your face?"

Rosaline blinked.

"No."

She slowly straightened herself and offered him an awkward smile before lifting one hand and waving dismissively.

"I’m fine."

Xandros’ eyes narrowed.

"You almost fell down the stairs."

"But I didn’t."

"Because I caught you."

Rosaline smiled again, this time with a hint of embarrassment.

"Exactly."

Xandros stared at her for several seconds before finally taking the bag from her hand.

"Leave it."

Rosaline frowned.

"I can carry it."

"The butler can."

"I don’t need the butler to."

"You nearly fell while carrying it."

"I nearly fell because I skipped a stair and moreover, I’m not on the stairs anymore."

Xandros gave her a long look.

"That doesn’t make your argument better."

Rosaline opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a familiar voice came from the corridor behind them.

"He’s right."

Rosaline turned.

Christophine stood several feet away, although Rosaline knew better than to assume that the person looking back at her was simply Lily.

Christophine, however, wore Lily’s face with an amused expression as she crossed her arms.

"You really shouldn’t be stressing yourself," she said, her eyes dropping toward the bag Xandros now held. "Especially when you have people willing to carry things for you."

Rosaline narrowed her eyes.

"I’m not helpless."

"I never said you were."

Christophine walked closer, her smile becoming more teasing as she looked at Rosaline.

"In fact, I think you’re stronger than you realize."

Rosaline’s expression softened slightly.

Then Christophine added, "Although you’re still not stronger than me."

Rosaline stared at her.

"What?"

Christophine shrugged innocently.

"I said you’re not stronger than me."

A strange competitiveness immediately flickered across Rosaline’s expression.

Xandros noticed it.

He knew that look.

He had seen enough of Rosaline to recognize when she was about to make something unnecessarily difficult.

"Don’t," he warned quietly.

Rosaline ignored him.

She stepped toward Christophine and folded her arms.

"How strong are you?"

Christophine’s smile widened.

"Strong enough."

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s the only answer you need."

Rosaline glanced at the bag Xandros was holding and then back at Christophine.

"Can you carry that?"

Christophine looked at the bag.

Then she looked at Xandros.

Then back at Rosaline.

"Of course."

Xandros’ expression slowly fell.

"No."

Both women looked at him.

Rosaline frowned.

"Why not?"

"Because neither of you needs to prove anything."

Christophine smiled. "I think she does."

Rosaline immediately nodded.

"I agree that she does." Pointing back at Christophine.

Xandros closed his eyes briefly.

He could already feel a headache forming.

Christophine stepped closer to Rosaline, her smile becoming increasingly mischievous.

"I can carry twice that."

Rosaline lifted her chin.

"I can carry more."

"You nearly fell down the stairs."

"That has nothing to do with my strength."

"It has everything to do with your balance."

Rosaline’s eyes narrowed.

"And you’re annoying."

Christophine laughed.

"So are you."

The two women continued staring at each other, neither willing to surrender the ridiculous competition that had somehow developed between them, while Xandros remained standing between them with the travelling bag in one hand and an expression of complete resignation on his face.

For someone who had lived for centuries and faced creatures far more terrifying than either woman standing before him, he suddenly found himself confronted with a problem he had no idea how to solve.

"Enough," he finally said.

Neither listened.

Rosaline reached for another bag.

Christophine immediately reached for the same one.

"Give it to me."

"No."

"I’m stronger."

"Prove it."

Xandros stared at them.

Then he slowly looked toward the ceiling as though silently asking whatever higher power existed for patience.

"This," he muttered under his breath, "is going to be a very long journey."

Neither Rosaline nor Christophine heard him.

They were too busy arguing over who could carry the heavier luggage but then he felt they needed that moment to avoid the awkwardness that has been going on for a while.

And for the first time in several days, the mansion did not feel frighteningly silent.

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