Delia Prance's Arc

Chapter 17 of 59

Delia washed the blood away and changed into her plain clothes. Her hands shook, but she made them still. Outside, the field waited. Nobles sat on one side, her patients on the other. The flowers she had planted stood bright under the sun. She had built this place for them all. She would not ruin it now. She pressed a hand to her flat belly, then let it fall. No one would see what she had lost. Not yet. She walked out into the field. A path ran between the two rows of guests. Someone had laid petals along it. The nobles turned to watch her, faces cool, looking for a crack. She gave them none. She kept her chin level and her steps even. Her legs still ached. She walked as if they did not. Nick stood at the far end, tall in his dark blue coat. His black hair caught the light. When he saw her, his face changed. Everything hard in him went soft. He held a bouquet of roses and sunflowers, tied with a blue ribbon. He had picked it himself. She fixed her eyes on him and let the crowd blur. The words came and she said them. She promised herself to him before the whole court. Nick promised the same, plain and clear, the way he said everything. He slid the ring onto her finger. The nobles found no reason to stop it. There was nothing common in the way she stood there. She had walked the path whole, and now it was done. They were married. Nick led her away from the guests, past the flowers, to the quiet edge of the field. He set the bouquet down on the grass. He looked at her closely. "You're pale," he said. "You walked like it hurt." Delia meant to hold it a while longer. She could not. "I lost the baby," she said. "This morning. Before the wedding." Nick went still. His jaw tightened. For a moment he said nothing at all. "You walked through all of that," he said. "After that." "I couldn't tell you first." Her voice broke. "If I'd said it, I'd have fallen apart. And they were watching. They wanted me to fall apart." He understood. She saw it land. He did not ask why she hid it, or make her explain. He pulled her against his chest and held her tight. She felt his hand press flat on her back. His breath was uneven. "You should have leaned on me," he said. "Not carried it alone." "I know." "Next time you lean on me." He held her tighter. "There's no court here now. Cry." So she did. The strength she had held all day let go. Nick did not loosen his grip. The nobles were gone from sight. The field she built was theirs, and the loss was theirs too, shared at last.