A soft, relieved sigh murmured into the room as he squeezed back, setting my hand into my lap.
"Then, you're probably hungry. You've been out for awhile. I'm going to bring something simple and easy to digest, you need plenty of rest, but you should be able to walk around-and-about in no time."
Hearing that caused my heart to steady, the fear in my stomach waning. Simply living without the constant fear and shadow of my demise hording my thoughts felt like a blessing- even more so without the Estettes and Boran. The cold stares, the cruel actions- I felt more like a fool now sitting here after brushing shoulders with death. Funny how you never take threats seriously enough until it's too late, isn't it?
Why had I ever sought their affection as a child? My two older cousins, my aunt and uncle; what was there to love in them? And Boran, who I had tried in the beginning to care for, optimistic that maybe if I was submitting to such a coupling that then I would negate the harsh words and glares. The foolish narrative that, if I was a good wife, life could be better- if I was a good wife, I could make up for my sins.
Yet, as the mention of my father's will grew more frequent, even my optimism couldn't brush over their greed and intentions. No, not optimism- blind bliss. Before, I had the simple wish that I could pay for the past by sacrificing my future, but I knew now that such an act wouldn't suffice. Even my intuition had saved me from being blind, but that didn't stop me from walking right into their trap. And now...
If they think I'm dead, maybe I really should die. Maybe, 'Eleanor Beatrice Estette' should become a name only known on a tombstone. Perhaps then, I can atone for my actions by living a life devoid of riches and status. A deep breath pressed against the boundary of my ribs, a dull pinch nipping at my side. All of this is ok. All of this is a fresh start. I couldn't tell if it was the truth or another lie to make me feel better, but I decided it didn't matter.
All I have to do is forget, and I can move on.
"I'm back, I brought a simple meal- plain bread and chicken broth. With the changes of your body, your diet may have changed too, so let's test how this goes."
I nodded and stiffly sat as he placed a tray upon my lap and guided my right hand to a warm glass and my left to a piece of bread. Without my sight, I was so much more invested in the dusted, crisp texture of the bread against my stone fingers, the warmth that tickles the skin between my thumb and pointer finger. As if on queue, my stomach growled softly, my tired right arm raising the chicken broth to my lips, the warmth fanning my face.
At the smell of the broth- the rustic, savory muted scent of the chicken- my hand froze. Where before I would have easily drank it, the back of my throat tightened as my hand reflexively pulled it away from my face. The smell hissed against my tonsils, a gag caught against my esophagus. Tenderly and cautiously, I found the tray and placed the cup back down, shaking my head 'no'. At that, he mutely took it away- I mused maybe he had nodded to me, but I dropped the thought and set to eating the bread instead. With my right hand empty, he pressed a cool glass against my palm.
"Water."
I nodded and calmly drank all there was, and hungrily gulped down all the refills he offered. Part of me was pained by depending on him so much for something so simple, but I bit down my ego, continually chanting that this was ok. I'm not weak for living like this. I'm still learning. Still, I found a few wandering tears soak into the bandages across my eyes. Just because this is ok, doesn't mean it will be easy- another mantra to adopt.
After finishing my meal, I sank back down into the blankets; their warm embrace entrapping beckoning me to sleep, my body too tired to do anything else for the day.
"I'll leave you to rest then."
Another pang of that feeling rose to my cheeks, but I brushed it off. I won't allow myself to feel that way. I will be mindful as I can, seize and do all I can. Even just sitting here, I know this life will be better than what it would have been with the Estettes, assuming he won't give me back to them. They wanted me dead anyway, however, and since I can no longer speak, I couldn't tell him even if I wanted to. Even if it meant never seeing again, I wouldn't go back. With that thought, I released all the tension I was holding and let out a breath, all but too aware of the itchy bandages across my eyes and arms.
Eleanor, I hushed, chastising myself. I've gotten the retribution I wanted- this suffering, and the gift of not dying. My selfish wish came true...
The silence of the room was relaxing- there were no loud carriages or strangers talking. Are we in the country? I wonder what time it is...
"..."
I never realized how boring it is without my sight. I can't count random patterns in the wallpaper or distract myself with anything... A fearful gulp choked up my throat at the chilling realization that from now on, I would be completely and utterly left to my thoughts.