Day 1. Reliving The Past.

As I sat out my window, I thought about what a good life I had. My husband never wandered (at least of I was aware) we lived peacefully, and we were not in debt. Pssht. Shows how much I knew right?
I stood up abruptly and looked around my room, feeling nervous. I looked at my mirror, and for the first time in a decade, smiled at what I saw. My hair was long and flowing down to my knees – not having been cut in over a year. My soft green eyes had gained back some of their lustre, and my eyelashes were long. As I perused myself, I heard the steps creaking.
Rushing back to my post at the table, I hurriedly hid my books, and tried to appear calm. As the door opened slowly, I looked into the mirror, and was pleased with what I saw.
Gone was the young girl who was forced to marry a man for her mothers’ safety. In her place was a calm, collected widow.

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I turned when I felt his presence beside me. My hair whipped around and I stared into his cold eyes. His chiselled features were by no way beautiful, but he reminded me off somebody. He eyed me slowly, and I felt heat all over my body. Squirming, I looked at my dainty hands, and suddenly found great interest in my nails. When I finally had the courage to look at him, I noticed his pained expression. Before I could say anything though, it was gone; replaced with coldness that even I couldn’t understand.
Me- who has been hidden in this cold hell for over 11 months, didn’t have that coldness. Me- who had to attend my own husband’s funeral – knowing his body was not in his casket. Me- who had to watch as my own brother was killed, trying to protect me; didn’t have that coldness. Suddenly raking sobs took over me. For the first time in almost a year, I cried. I cried for my husband, my brother, but mostly for myself. I cried knowing that no one was looking for me. My husband had no title, meaning no land, no one else but me to mourn his death. But worse, there was no one to mourn the loss of me, suddenly I found myself wrapped in my captors arms. He whispered nothingness in my ears, much like what my husband used to do as I watched an opera. A sudden pain appeared in my chest. The tears dropped even harder until I found that the pain was dimming. I looked into my captor’s eyes and was shocked by what I saw. Instead of pity, or even the previous cold look, I saw something far scarier. I saw love.