Untamed {Mature Reading}

Chapter XL

As promised, Moria came a little while later, her voice soft and eyes concerned. It made Bianca think that Alec might have told Moria a little more than to just fetch a bath and food. Not that Bianca minded. It was a strange comfort to know that she would not have to repeat the story of her rejection again and again. 

It was enough that she had to relive it in my mind, flashes flaring the moment her guard drops - the devoid look in those beautifully cruel eyes, the harsh lines on the plane of his face, the moment when pain cracked in her chest as if she had broken a rib. 

So no, to utter the words out loud once more would be too much. 

Moira hovered, the maid's lips turned down in concern as she stole glances at Bianca. She had made excuses to stay - from taking her time to fish out clean clothes for the priestess to waiting to ensure Bianca ate every bit of the warm stew and crusty bread the maid had brought. 

Bianca did not wish to say but the food tasted like ash in her mouth and though it did warm her insides, the heat of the flavoured liquid could not chase away the chill that had settled deep within her. 

Moria now hovered in the doorway, her hand pressed to her chest as she watched Bianca step out of her bloodied dress. 

"Will ye be needing anything else, Bee?" 

Bianca felt her throat tighten at the softness in the maid's voice. "I will be fine, Moira." Bianca choked out, hiding her face behind a spill of tangled red curls. 

The maid paused long enough for Bianca to change her mind before slowly nodding. "I'll be in the kitchens if ye need me." Her gaze flickered to the arching steam rising from the bath by the fireplace. "I'd be quick- before the water turns cold." 

Bianca nodded but scarcely moved until she heard the sound of the door gently closing shut. The sound, though soft, felt so loud, echoing around her. 

Wearily, Bianca moved towards the bath, not caring if her skin prickled and protested with the heat as she sank in. The water smelt like lavender heady and soothing. For a long moment, the priestess merely sat there, feeling her body slowly growing accustomed to the hot water, the waterline gently lapping around her form as she breathed. 

In truth, it was rather pitiful to feel such a way over unrequited love. She had never been destined for it, long since sworn to the gods. Could she truly mourn something that was never hers to have? Who was she to seek love from someone who, though cruel and confusing, did not owe her love in return?

It was her own foolish mistake to expect anything from Callum. It was naivety that confused their intimate sharing of each other as anything more than a man and woman seeking pleasure. 

All logic dictated that Bianca should never have expected anything from Callum - from anyone. But that small beating offense in her chest had been the only thing to defy all logic and reason. Her heart had simply sought to hope.

To hope that in all the pain, the loss and the grief Bianca might have found somewhere, someone, who could have been the steady hand to hold hers.

She stayed in the water until it had turned cold, prompting the priestess to scrub her body and try to clean her ensnared hair in somewhat of a rush. Her body shivered, fat droplets of soapy water dripping onto the floor as she climbed out. 

Her actions felt so hallow as Bianca towelled herself off, slipping into the clean, fresh nightdress Moria had left for her. She hardly dared to look at herself in the looking glass as she fought with her hair, hoping to tame it into some form of submission. Strands protested as she combed, but when it was finally done, the priestess sat back long enough to steal a glance at herself.