23. Kathleen

Asigh of relief escapes my lips as I watch Grandma"s chest rise and fall with each steady breath. It feels like she has been teetering on the brink of life for an eternity, but I am alerted she is asking for me, awake and alive! My heart leaps with joy and I rush to her bedside, grateful that the chaos of the wedding preparations can be forgotten for a moment.

But the moment I approach her, her voice becomes a rusty knife that slashes through my joy. Her once warm and kind eyes now burn with accusation, piercing through me like daggers. "You...married that monster?" Her words hang in the air like a thunderous storm cloud, casting a dark shadow over the room.

My stomach twists with guilt and regret as I frantically search for words to justify my decision, but none seem strong enough to break through the storm of her anger and my body only reels back in shock and dismay.

My mouth hangs open, unable to form words.

How could she possibly know about my secret? She has been unconscious this entire time, how can she have any knowledge of my actions? "I-I had to, for your sake."

But Grandma"s face twists into an angry mask as she struggles to rise from her bed. Her wrinkled hands grip the sheets tightly, nails digging into the fabric. "Ungrateful wretch!" she spits at me, her voice dripping with venom. "Your grandfather and I raised you better than this! How could you cavort with those vile beasts who slaughtered our kind? Have you no respect or loyalty for your own blood?" Her eyes flash with fury as she glares at me accusingly.

Her hateful words are like sharp knives, piercing through me and leaving deep wounds. I try to speak, but her interruption is swift and sharp. "Please, Grandma," I implore, "try to understand–" But she cuts me off with a scathing tone.

"Understand?" she spits out, her vitriol evident in every syllable. "You have betrayed not only your own kind, but all of humankind itself with your sin!"

I reach for her, desperate for some sign of love or understanding, but she pushes me away with unexpected strength in her frail frame. It feels like my entire childhood of love and security crumbles into dust before my eyes.

"I should have died rather than live to see this disgrace!" she declares bitterly. "How could you turn your back on your own people?" she demands, face mottled with rage. "Lying with the enemy makes you a traitor!"

I flinch as her words pierce through me like a thousand sharp needles, each one laced with venom and accusation. My heart races with disbelief as I hear such hatred spewing from the mouth of my once kind and gentle grandmother.

"He"s not like them!" I beg, my voice trembling with desperation. But her mind is made up, consumed by her unforgiving loathing for him. "Let me prove it to you. Without him, you wouldn"t be alive right now... You would have been dead, and I would have had to work the streets, is that what you would have preferred?" My words fall on deaf ears as she continues to spew her poisonous accusations, oblivious to the truth that lies before her.

She looks as if I just slapped her. "How dare you speak so brashly to your grandmother. What has he done to you! Foolish child, you betray your own kind! And for what! A pretty dress!" Grandma hisses, her eyes blazing with anger. In a fit of rage, she grabs a nearby cup and hurls it at me. "I wish I would have died rather than suffer this disgrace!" I barely have time to duck as the cup shatters against the wall behind me. Shocked by this sudden outburst of hostility from my once loving grandmother, I can only stand there, shaking and bewildered. "Thank the gods your Grandfather isn't around for this farce!"

She starts to assault me. Throwing everything in reach, I duck and defend what I can, but part of me feels like I deserve it.

Like I betrayed both her and the family.

Maybe it is all my fault...

With a sudden rush of movement, Draknir appears, drawn by the commotion. He acts quickly, shielding me from any more projectiles that may come our way. His strong arms wrap around me, and I feel the comforting warmth of his embrace. But his protective gesture only fuels Grandma"s fury as she continues to berate him with her shrill voice. "What is going on here? What is the meaning of this!" He doesn"t look angry, but like he needs to command the situation quickly.

"Do not come near my granddaughter, you terrifying monster!" she yells, her face flushed with rage and fear. The air is heavy with tension and adrenaline as we stand in this chaotic moment. "What did you do to her! Vile beast!"

"Grandma! I swear to the gods of the old and new, it"s not like that." I move closer to her hoping to quell the situation, but it"s like she"s a stranger to me.

This isn"t my Grandma.

My Grandma would never say these things to me.

My eyes well up with tears, blurring my vision as I stand before the woman who raised me with love and kindness. Now, her gaze is cold and filled with accusation, treating me as an enemy.

How did our relationship come to this dreadful impasse so suddenly?

Each hurtful word she speaks feels like a sharp dagger piercing my heart.

I leave the room crying and lock myself in my quarters.

I try to help Grandma see, but she only gets worse by the day, her outbursts and declarations growing more extreme by the day.

I find solace in retreating to the sanctuary of my own room.

The familiar scent of lavender and vanilla surrounds me, calming my troubled mind.

But even within these walls, I cannot escape the weight of the strained bond between us.

There"s nowhere I can escape.

The once bright and lively halls now feel suffocating, filled with tension and resentment. I am adrift in misery, torn between my love for Draknir and my grandmother"s unrelenting hatred towards him.

Each day drags on with a weight that seems to grow heavier by the hour, burdened by the strain of our broken family ties. I feel hopeless.

Trapped.

If she doesn"t accept me, what was this all for?

Am I just to be a slave now devoid of any free will?

But on the sixth night, Draknir"s worried expression reflects in the dim candlelight of my bedroom as he comes to me.

"Kathleen," his voice is gentle but concerned. "Please speak to me. You have been distant for days – are you unwell?" His eyes search mine, searching for answers and understanding in the depths of my troubled gaze.

He approaches with a silver tray, carrying a feast of my favorite foods. My stomach growls in response, but I push down the urge to give in. It"s been ages since I"ve left the confines of my room, and the thought alone makes me shudder.

The once comforting walls now seem to suffocate me, leaving me feeling trapped and powerless. My stomach growls with hunger, a reminder of my neglect to eat. Guilt weighs heavy on my chest as I see myself as nothing but a failure.

How can I face the man who has given me everything, only to crumble at the first sign of trouble?

I don"t deserve his food.

I don"t deserve his pity.

I"m his slave. Nothing more.

As I lay in bed, unsure of what to do. The smell of his cooking fills the air, but I can"t bring myself to take a bite. How can I enjoy this meal when I know I don"t deserve it? His eyes are full of pity and it makes my stomach churn with guilt.

Am I really just a slave to him?

Is that all I"m worth? Despite my shame, I can"t help but feel drawn to his outstretched hand.

How can he when I am the one who has let him down?

Why does he even care?

My inner turmoil tears at me as I struggle to find the words to explain.

Unable to meet his gaze, I find my eyes glued to the floor, avoiding any contact with him. Shame fills every inch of my being as I realize how much I"ve let him down.

His hand reaches out towards mine and he clasps them earnestly, a look of genuine concern etched across his features. "You cannot hide from me, dear one. Tell me how to ease your burden," he says softly.

What's the point… I'll just tell him what he wants to hear.

I'll be his little slut, because that's probably what he really wants.

I start to pull down my top.