Damned by Him

Three days passed before Rosaline opened her eyes again.

The world returned to her slowly, as though she were being pulled unwillingly from the depths of a place where neither sound nor light could reach her. For a long while, she remained suspended in darkness, unaware of her surroundings, unaware of the passing hours, and unaware that someone had remained beside her through every one of them.

When consciousness finally returned, it came with discomfort.

Her throat felt dry.

Her body felt strangely heavy.

And there was an unpleasant pressure sitting deep within her chest.

Rosaline’s brows knitted together as she tried to move but the first thing she noticed was the darkness.

The room was almost completely unlit, save for the weak glow of a candle burning somewhere nearby. Its flame flickered against the walls, throwing long shadows across the chamber and making the familiar room appear strangely unfamiliar.

Rosaline blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Her vision slowly adjusted.

She tried to lift herself from the bed, but the moment she moved, something violently twisted inside her stomach.

Her hand flew to her mouth.

"Ugh—"

She turned her head just in time.

A violent cough tore through her chest, Rosaline gasped between coughs, her body trembling beneath the blankets.

Someone moved beside her.

She froze.

There was a shadow standing near the bed.

For one frightened moment, Rosaline could only stare.

Then the figure stepped closer to the candlelight, and grey eyes met hers.

"Rosaline."

Her heart gave a faint, startled thud.

"Xandros..."

Her voice was barely audible.

Xandros immediately reached for the porcelain cup sitting beside the bed. He poured water from the glass jar on the nearby table and carefully brought it toward her.

"Slowly."

He slipped one hand behind her shoulders, helping her sit upright.

"Drink."

Rosaline hesitated before accepting the cup.

Her fingers trembled around it and she took a small sip, then another.

The cool water eased the dryness in her throat, though the discomfort in her stomach remained.

Xandros watched her carefully.

"How are you feeling?"

Rosaline lowered the cup.

She didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she looked around the room as fragments of memory slowly began returning.

The rooftop,he cold wind, her exhaustion.

Sleeping.

Then waking, the bath, the dizziness.

The water and how she struggled to breathe.

Her hand reaching desperately toward the surface.

And then...

Silver lightning.

Her eyes slowly widened as she remembered.

Her gaze drifted toward Xandros.

He was still sitting beside her.

"You..."

Her voice faltered.

Xandros leaned slightly closer.

"What?"

Rosaline swallowed.

She could remember a silver lightning.

She could remember seeing it before darkness claimed her.

But everything after that remained blurred.

"What happened?"

Xandros’ expression remained calm, though his eyes softened slightly. "You nearly drowned."

Rosaline’s fingers tightened around the cup.

"Drowned?"

"You collapsed in the bath." His voice remained steady.

"I found you unconscious."

Rosaline stared at him.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then another unpleasant wave of nausea rolled through her.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillows.

Xandros immediately reached for the cup before it slipped from her fingers.

"Don’t force yourself."

Rosaline breathed slowly through her nose.

Her body still felt terribly weak.

She could feel the exhaustion in every limb, as though even lifting her hand required more strength than she possessed.

"I..."

She paused. "How long?" She asked instead.

Xandros looked at her.

"Three days."

Rosaline’s eyes opened. "Three?"

"You’ve been unconscious for three days."

She stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

Three days.

She had slept for three days?

Yet despite the shock of that realization, something else occupied her mind.

The memory she had tried so desperately to bury before the accident remained untouched.

The woman and Xandros.

Anger burned through her once again.

She slowly turned her face away from him.

Waking from unconsciousness had not erased anything.

If anything, being awake only made the memories sharper.

Xandros noticed the movement.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You’re still angry."

Rosaline said nothing.

She turned farther toward the opposite side of the bed.

The faintest crease appeared between his brows.

"Rosaline." He called out to her in a low voice.

But all he received as a response was silence.

He waited but got nothing.

The way he called her name had her pull the blanket slightly higher around herself.

Xandros stared at the back of her head, amazed that after everything that had happened... She still had the strength to ignore him.

A faint amusement unexpectedly touched his expression.

He rose from his chair and moved around the bed.

Rosaline noticed his shadow crossing the blanket.

She immediately attempted to turn away again.

But before she could, Xandros reached out and gently caught her chin, stopping her from turning completely.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Don’t."

She finally spoke.

It was weak but unmistakably irritated.

Xandros’ lips curved.

"You’ve been unconscious for three days." He said to her making Rosaline glare at him.

"And you still have an attitude."

She gave him a side-eye so sharp that, under any other circumstance, it might have been amusing.

Xandros actually chuckled.

A quiet sound escaped him before he released her chin.

Rosaline looked away again.

His amusement only seemed to grow.

"You can barely sit upright."

Another faint chuckle.

"And yet you’re still capable of being angry with me."

Rosaline remained silent.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

Xandros watched her for a moment longer.

Then his expression gradually changed.

The amusement disappeared.

His voice became quieter.

"Rosaline."

She didn’t look at him.

"I wasn’t cheating on you."

Her fingers froze against the blanket and the room became still.

Xandros continued, his gaze fixed upon her profile.

"So my dear wife can rest without carrying unnecessary irritation in her heart."

Rosaline’s lashes trembled.

She still refused to turn toward him.

But she was listening.

"I know you saw something at the Golden House."

Her heart gave another painful thud.

Xandros’ voice remained calm. "But what you saw was not what you believed it was."

Rosaline slowly turned her eyes toward him.

He met her gaze without hesitation. "I’ll explain everything."

He paused.

"But not while you’re like this."

Her brows drew together.

"Why?" She asked him already anticipating.

"You’ve just woken from three days of unconsciousness."

His gaze briefly travelled over her pale face before returning to her eyes.

"You’re weak. You’re still sick, and you nearly drowned."

His tone became firmer.

"So you’re going to rest."

Rosaline stared at him.

"And when you start feeling better..."

A faint smile returned to his lips.

"...I’ll tell you exactly what happened that day at the Golden House."

She remained silent.

Xandros leaned back slightly, folding his arms.

"So, my dear wife..."

His grey eyes held hers.

"It is your responsibility to get well."

Rosaline blinked.

"Why?" She asked again her voice coming out as a whisper.

"Because I have no intention of explaining myself to a woman who might faint halfway through the conversation."

Her lips parted in disbelief.

"You—"

Xandros chuckled again.

"Rest."

Rosaline stared at him for several seconds before reluctantly turning her face toward the ceiling.

She still didn’t trust him.

She was still hurt.

And the memory of what she had seen had not disappeared.

But for the first time since returning from the Golden House...

There was something else mixed with the pain.

A fragile, uncertain hope.

Perhaps...

Perhaps she had been wrong.