(Tilly Ann)
I stood outside my parents' bedroom door, listening to the quiet sounds inside. Giggling. My father's low laugh, my mother's playful murmur. After twenty-three years of marriage, they still sounded like teenagers in love.
It made my own heart feel like a stone in my chest.
The door to their inner chamber opened, and my mother slipped out. She saw me standing there and smiled, but it faded when she saw my face.
"Is everything alright?" she asked, closing the door softly behind her. "You stopped spontaneously visiting our bedchambers when you turned fourteen and discovered we weren't fun anymore."
I managed a weak laugh. "Oh, sweet, naive Mother. You were never fun."
Aurora Winchester threw a silver hairbrush at me. I jumped aside just in time.
"Who is it?!" my father's voice boomed from inside.
"Our daughter, my love! I will be with you shortly!" Mother called back, never taking her eyes off me.
I realized I was interrupting. This was their private time. I took a step back. "I should go."
"Tilly," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "What is bothering you?"
The question hung in the air. All the confusion, the shame, the angry words from Chase spun in my head.
"Am I a bad person, Mama?" The words fell out in a rush. "Are you proud of me?"
Mother's whole face changed. The queen vanished, and in her place was just… my mom. Her eyes filled with instant, deep concern. She took my hands. "Why would you ever ask that?"
Because I want things proper girls shouldn't want, I thought. I get excited by things that would make you faint. Because Chase was right. Maybe I am the 'fucked behind the secret door' type of girl. A private whore. Nothing like the immaculate princess everyone expects. Maybe I am the rotten thing he says I am.
"Never mind," I whispered, pulling my hands away. "It's stupid."
I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me.
"You are stubborn," she stated.
I flinched.
"Pig-headed," she continued, taking a step closer. "A little wild for my liking…"
"Fuck, Mama, I feel so much better," I muttered, my throat tight.
"You swear like a sailor," she said, now right in front of me. She cupped my chin, forcing me to look at her. My eyes were glittering with tears I refused to shed. "A nasty habit you won't give up. You would rather hunt boars than knit or cook or do any one of the million things girls of your status are supposed to do."
I just stared at her, waiting for the blow. For her to confirm all my worst fears.
"You are not what I envisioned for a daughter, Tilly Ann Winchester," she said softly.
There it was. The confirmation. I tried to look down, but she held my face.
"You are so much more, darling girl."
I blinked. A single tear escaped and rolled down my cheek.
"You have the biggest heart I have ever seen," she whispered, her own eyes shining. "Your kindness is only rivaled by the Creator herself. You are brave. You are strong. You are protective and loyal to a fault. You are not bad. You are the opposite of bad."
Then she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a hug so tight it squeezed the air from my lungs. I buried my face in her shoulder and cried, just for a second.
"And we are proud of you, Chicken." My father's voice came from the doorway.
I pulled back, wiping my face with a laugh. "Don't call me that ridiculous girlhood name!"
He walked over and kissed the top of my head. "You would tell us if something was wrong, wouldn't you?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
"I'm fine," I said, the lie easier now that I felt their love like a shield.
My mother looked at my father, her queen-face returning. "Adonis, I think we should call off the marriage. She's only eighteen. We can wait two more years."
"No!" The word burst out of me, sharper than I intended. "Don't! I can do this, Mother. There's no better match. Hellsgate will be a great ally. They're willing to give us everything—support against the Greek fairies, everything. I can do this."
I saw the relief wash over their faces. The terrible choice between their child's happiness and their kingdom's safety was, for a moment, put aside.
"Okay," my father said, nodding. "But I have insisted you stay here until after your Dragon Bonding Ceremony. If I'm sending you to the wolves, you go with a live dragon at your side, Chicken."
"Father, it's really not a prob—"
"It's not a conversation, Tilly," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You will marry Chase Dubois after the ceremony."
I nodded, said a quick goodbye, and left their room.
The calm from their love lasted about halfway down the corridor. Then the other memory returned. Chase's voice. You don't do love either.
The shame came rushing back, hot and angry. I changed direction, my feet carrying me to the guest chambers. I didn't think. I just knocked hard on his door.
It opened. There he was, sitting in that damned wheelchair, looking up at me with those quiet, tired eyes.
All the hurt boiled over.
"What do you get by saying horrible things to me?!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the stone hall. "Trying to make me hate myself? Trying to shame me?! So what, if I liked being finger fucked in the damn storeroom and sucked on the reading table. does that mean, I'm not allowed to want flowers and romance, stupid poems under my door! was it really necessary to make me feel like a whore for liking both! It's unfair and it should be beneath you!"
Tears, hot and angry, spilled over. I didn't let him speak. I just turned and stormed away.
"Matilda!" he called after me.
I heard the quick whir of his wheelchair behind me, but I was faster. I flew into my room and slammed the door shut, locking it.
A moment later, a knock. A soft, hesitant knock.
"Matilda." His voice was muffled by the wood.
I didn't answer. I slid down the back of the door, hugging my knees to my chest, crying in the way you do when you're just so tired of being confused and angry and hurt.
"Matilda, please." He sounded desperate. He must have heard me crying. "Talk to me. What did I say? What are you talking about?"
"Go away!" I sobbed, my voice cracking.
There was a long silence. Then, the sound of his forehead resting against the door. A quiet, defeated thud.
"I don't know what I did," he said, his voice so low I almost couldn't hear it. "But I am… so sorry I hurt you."
He waited. I didn't move.
After what felt like forever, I heard the soft whir of his wheels as he turned and rolled slowly away, leaving me alone with my tears and the echoing, awful truth.
There were definitely two sides of Chase that's completely unaware of each other actions and a game being played.
Did my father engage me to a mad man?