Rosemary Thorne's Arc

Chapter 23 of 24

Rosemary put the ledger away and the spellbook back on the shelf. The door was closed on that debt. Another one was still open, and it had been open longer than she wanted to count. Damien sat at the table cleaning mud off his boots. The banns would be read the day after tomorrow. She watched him work and tried to remember if he had ever said the words she needed to hear. He had stayed. He had returned her half of the pendant. He had told the steward nothing. He had not once said he loved her. She set a cup of tea by his elbow. The three cats came in from the garden and pressed around her ankles in a tight, patient knot. "Damien." "Yes." "Say it plain. Are you marrying me because I pulled the curse out of you, or because you want to?" He set the boot down. He looked at his hands, then at her. "That's not a fair question." "It's the only one I have left." He was quiet. The kettle ticked as it cooled. Outside, the purple alligator thumped its tail against the garden fence, waiting for its apple. She did not go to it. "I owe you my life," Damien said. "I know." "That's not why." "Then say why." He stood. He walked around the table and stopped in front of her. He took her hands. His palm was warm. The fresh scar she had cut into it caught against her thumb. "I came to your door for eleven nights and would not step inside. When I finally did, I meant to leave before dawn. I did not want to want anything. You made me want to stay before you ever lifted the curse." "That's not a vow." "No." He drew a breath. "I, Damien, take you, Rosemary, to be my wife. To keep. Not to owe. If the curse had killed me last month I would have died wanting this. I want it now without it." Her eyes stung. She held on to his hands. "Say it once more on Sunday," she said. "In front of them." "I will." One of the cats climbed her skirt and settled against her hip. The alligator thumped again. She laughed once, a wet sound, and wiped her face on her sleeve. "Feed the beast," she said. "Before he eats the fence." Damien went to the barrel and took an apple. At the door he stopped. "Rosemary." "Yes." "A letter came while you were at the bakery. From the south. The carter brought it up. I left it on the sill." She turned. A folded page sat on the window ledge, sealed in dark wax she did not know. The gnome had not been due back for days. Someone else had ridden ahead of him. She reached for it.