Ell

Just like that, the sadness is gone and dark malice replaces it on his face. But it's too late. That sadness is what makes it impossible for me to hate him. Somehow it gives me hope when he looks at me like that, like maybe in a way he's sorry for what I've become, sorry for what he's made me.

Sorry that I'm just like him.

With a single word he can wound me, and with that remorseful gaze I'm disarmed for the attack. Whatever comes now will crush me more than it ever could have a few moments ago. I brace myself, but there's no way I could prepare for what's coming.  

"Don't worry my dear. You'll soon have money enough to repay me. The Count expressed his interest last night and I think you'll find yourself with a fortune before too long." He dabs his mouth with a napkin, the red of the turik eggs staining like a slash of blood against the pure white cloth.

I feel my pulse quicken. One has few clear memories of anything that happens under the effects of mogdoggen. I condemn myself silently, angry that I allowed myself to be tricked. I know I shouldn't ask, but curiosity wins over common sense. I have to know more about my apparent fate.

"Which one was the Count?"

 He feigns surprise. "You don't remember? You were so solicitous to him."

I grip my spoon tightly and smile. "I thought you knew how mogdoggen worked Adda. You've certainly had your share over the years. I'm surprised you allowed your dear daughter to drink it." Trying not to lose my temper, I lift the goblet and feel cool, fresh spring water course down my throat. He's about to say more, but Desha enters at last, wearing a new gown that she is beaming over. Once again, I'm forgotten. Thankful, I lean back in my seat, amazed that I'm still in one piece.

And so is he.