It was almost midnight when Ravenna walked into her room, peeling off her drenched clothes. The chill of the night air still lingered on her skin as exhaustion and fear wrestled with her body.
Alaric's nightmares took a toll on her body, threatening to surface the trauma she had been avoiding. At least, trying to.
She gazed at her reflection in the oval mirror. Brown messy hair, full lips, captivating freckles, and alluring black eyes. She trailed her face, feeling the smooth feel of her skin behind her mascara. Her breasts were full and round, arching outward, a kind that was fit to nurture a child.
A mother, she thought. Would she ever be a mother? She rubbed her flat tummy. Who would want a woman that had spread legs for different men, one she had lost count? Who would want a whore as their wife and a thief as their lady? Who wouldn't look at her scars and fright, not of fear but of disgust?
With a soft huff, Hannah brought her hand to her hair, dragging it with all her might. She continued until a few strands of silver hair speckled at the front and more. She went on and on until the wig came off before discarding it at a corner.
When she was done, she stared at herself again. Ravenna. The castle's scourge. The village thief.
She beckoned for a hot bath. As she sank into the steaming water, her tense muscles began to relax and unwind however, her thoughts did the exact opposite.
Alaric's nightmares started the night of their parents' death, that very night they escaped the grasp of flames. He was only three winters old when he started weeping in discomfort whenever night clawed closer by inches. At five, his nightmares grew more incurable and traumatizing for the both of them.
He would dream of strange Lords that were only but history and she would struggle with her trauma whenever this happened. Of flames and fire, of burn and writhe, Ravenna would struggle to fight off her trauma and face her precisions, when it melts her skin like tallow.
However, she hadn't been able to do so.
Over the years, it became a part of her that she could never escape. A part she hated as much as she did herself.
Her hands- she looked down at them. They were calloused. Rough. Unlikely for a woman.
And they were shaking. Itching for more pain, more injuries. It was the only method that had kept her distracted so far, along the years of torturing herself.
She observed her body further. From her chest down, there were crowded with scars and flaws, some of which left marks on her skin that no matter the ointment she could afford, wouldn't take down the ugliness on them.
But most of them were born of pleasure- bite marks, spanks, cuts, slaps- it was mandatory.
Hannah Maere. That's what tomorrow called for. She would work in the morning at the castle, and leave in the afternoon for what brought food to her table. Another day to be fake, she thought.
The warm water lulled her into a fragile calm, but her mind remained alert. After her bath, Ravenna dressed quickly, putting in a comfortable night gown.
A gust of wind caught her attention, as her curtain billowed inward, open, tearing her attention from her thoughts to the wind that carried the smell of earth and atmosphere, a signal that the rain would continue.
Ravenna's brows furrowed in confusion when she looked at the curtains dancing. She didn't leave that open. And was certain it wasn't open when she left to have her bath. Could she have been mistaken?
She carefully dropped the clean sheet of blanket on her bed, and with soft footsteps, she left for the window.
The breeze smacked her figure at every movement until she reached to cover the window pane and draw the curtains close.
After that, Ravenna gave it a hard look, before returning to grab the sheet and blow off the candles.
Opening her mouth, she was about to release her breath to extinguish the flames, when a gust of wind distracted her.
And a shiver ran down her spine. That same gust of wind brushed her skin, causing her heart to seize for a moment.
That's when she saw something. On the wall, it was a silhouette. But the most confusing was what she refused to notice. What had paled her? The shadow wasn't carrying a human figure. More like a bird?
With her heart beating wildly, Ravenna spun around, but there was nothing. No one
The curtains remained open as the breeze constantly teased them. Her heart thumped wildly, refusing to calm.
Another sense of adrenaline rushed into her as she breathed. "Who's there?" She called out, her voice trembling.
Silence.
It was all that answered.
Ravenna's gaze returned to the silhouette. But as expected, there was nothing. Just her, looking at an empty wall and her shadow reflecting how ghastly her expression was. It had vanished as if it never even existed. Never was there in the first place.
But the feeling still lingered.
Her curiosity wrestled between trepidation and at the end, she rushed to the window, her heart still pounding.
The night outside was dark, as some houses spied light through them, however, the wind whispered something. Danger. But why did it have to sound like a secret?
For the nth time, Ravenna's question was regarded as one thought to trash. She was the only one to feed her wrestling headaches and so far, all she did was add to it instead of finding a cure.
Releasing a breath, Ravenna reached for the curtains to close them. When she did, she returned to her bed, staring at the candle, and her eyes drifted to the plain wall.
A bird? She thought again. That beak, she recalled. That was no imagination.
Ravenna released a shaky breath. Maybe she was crazy. All she needed was a sound rest. But she doubted if she would be granted that.
She clutched the rosary at her neck, caressing it without a word as she stared at the ceiling. Was the angels watching? Might they be with their parents from above? Would her parents be… disappointed by the decision of life she had chosen? Would they know, it was all for the sake of a good deed?
'Ravenna, Ravenna, my sweet Ravenna,' they would call, voice like an angel, melody like Mary. 'Burn in hell and suffer the flames,' she would dream, frightened and pale.
She had only shut her eyes for a few seconds when the cold bite of the wind pierced sharply into her. Ravenna's eyes snapped open, the sound of the breeze sufficing her eardrums towards the curtain's direction.
There was no way…
Her heart dropped to her stomach as she watched the curtain dance.
She pulled away from the bed, and stepped on the cold floor barefoot, and grabbed the small dagger beneath her bed with shaky fingers. Her eyes fixed on the window, taking note of every slight movement when she took a bold step.
As she neared, she gulped the lump down her throat. Her legs trembled but her body remained determined not to fall for its trick. She wouldn't let it betray her.
Yet nothing.. Again, she saw nothing.
Then who or what could be opening her window?
That question caused her to tremble.
Her room, which once was a sanctuary, now felt utterly vulnerable to her. Without thinking, Ravenna dashed towards the door and out, seeking Alaric's room.
She sighed in relief when she sighted his small figure, asleep. His nightmares had now begun to torment her. She had thought something or-
Ravenna's thoughts swirled, as fear and uncertainty entwined. As she lay on his bed, the bed dipped at her weight, and she almost grinned when he pulled her to a hug, acknowledging her presence.
All her trembling emotions vanished replaced with serenity and she curled closer, finding her peace under the unmerciful storm that raged in tempest.
Who? What? And why?
Tomorrow was calling for it.
***