A giggle pops out of me. I must be high to giggle like this in front of the devil.
“Tell me about college, princess. Tell me why you wanted to be a veterinarian.”
I wrinkle my brow. “You want to talk to me? Like really talk to me?”
“I want you to tell me, yes.” His eyes, though tired, twinkle a little. “Why so shocked? You’re my wife, after all.”
“Are you making fun of me? I can’t tell anymore.” I sigh, suddenly tired beyond belief.
“No. Not this time.” He holds my hand between both of his. “I genuinely want to know.”
I chew my bottom lip, but then he presses his thumb against it, freeing it from my teeth. “Go easy.”
“Habit.”
He nods. Then waits. The silence builds as I try to collect my thoughts that are scattering farther and farther away like papers blowing in a mocking wind.
“When—When Ferdinand and I were kids, my mother never let us have pets. She said they were filthy and would ruin her house. Ferdinand accepted it, but I didn’t. I’d always loved animals. If I was ever out somewhere, and someone had their dog on a leash, or their cat in a carrier, or even their iguana on their shoulder—I always asked to pet it. I loved animals so much. They always seemed so much kinder than people, you know? They didn’t have motives other than getting some petting and having a snack. There wasn’t anything else lurking beneath their surface. What you see is what you get.”
“Some animals are dangerous, though, aren’t they?”
I nod, but it makes my head go sloshy so I stop. “They are. But they don’t hide that fact. You know a cat has claws, you know dogs have teeth, you know snakes will bite. It’s straightforward. It’s their nature, and it’s not a secret. I always liked that. I didn’t care if they were dangerous.” I’m finding it hard to keep my eyes open. “I didn’t love them any less just because they could hurt me. It’s not their fault; it’s just their nature. They still deserve love.”
“Hmm.” He strokes my inner wrist now, his skin whispering across mine. “You believe all dangerous creatures deserve love?”
“Yes.” I open my eyes and meet his gaze. His eyes are almost silvery in the low light.
“Ferdinand once found a snake on our property, but a good bit of its tail was missing after a run-in with a hawk. He brought it to me, sneaking it past my mother of course, and I bandaged it as best I could and kept it in my room. He knew how much I loved animals. I took care of it for days and fed it worms and bugs that Ferdinand collected for me. One day, it bit me.” I hold up my index finger where the scar still lingers. “When Ferdinand found out, he was livid and wanted to throw it out the window and tell Mother, in case it was venomous. I didn’t let him. I continued to take care of it until the end of its tail healed, and then I let it go in the garden. Ferdinand didn’t really understand it, but he loved me.” I can’t look away from him. “He’s the only person who ever really loved me for me. The only one who cared about me. And when he was killed, a part of me died too. It’s a piece of me that I can feel is missing. One that’ll never come back, no matter what.” My eyes sting from unshed tears.
“Who killed him?” His question is strange, the tone of it making my addled brain believe that if I could give him a name, he’d take them out. He’d find who killed Ferdinand and make them pay.
I shake my head. “No one ever found out who did it. It was an execution—” My voice breaks, and I can’t continue.
He’s still rubbing my wrist, his grip soft but sure. “I lost my parents. They were betrayed and murdered. I feel that missing piece, too. Whenever I act, I ask myself if what I’m doing honors their memory.” He sighs heavily. “The answer isn’t always yes. I know I disappoint them sometimes, but I also know they’d love me anyway. That’s why the loss hurts so much. You and I know what it’s like to lose that depth of understanding, of love. But it doesn’t make us weaker. It makes us stronger. It makes us more dangerous than those who’ve never lost anything.”
“Do you know who did it?”
He stills. For long moments he doesn’t seem to move, to breathe. Then finally, he lets out a breath. “Yes.”
“Did you make them pay?” I ask quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.
His eyes bore into me so deep that I can feel him in my soul. His answer comes out on a harsh whisper. “Yes.”