Joel sits lazily in the carriage, when I approach her. She doesn't meet my eyes. Her lithe body, covered in scars isn't even shrouded in the warm blanket that the guards had borrowed from a villager.
"May I have a word with you," I said, and she looked at me like my existence didn't even matter to her.
Fair thing. I would hate me too if I were in her place.
I didn't remember much about this world, but the memories kept coming. The story untravelled itself to me in portions. But Joel's Lore... What becomes of it? I had no idea.
Hesitantly, Joel shifts a little. On the seat opposite her, rests a casket. Closed. Cold. Conceited. Sir José is tucked inside it.
"What is it that you want now?" The passive aggressiveness in Joel's voice told me that something horrible has happened.
"Whatever anger you harbour towards me, is not meant for me entirely. Pray tell me what has happened to you," I tell her. A moment passes. She looks at me like I am the most disgusting she has ever laid eyes upon.
"Your Highness..." She turns to look at me. "If I could spit at someone's face, it would be yours. I am afraid you'll make sure my death is more painful if I go along with it," her teeth clenched.
Female rage was a thing.
"I... I don't want you to hate me. I want you to tell me what has happened, and I shall make it up to you.
Isn't that what we agreed on?"
From what I knew about the story, the Duke had this young apprentice. He was set on teaching her magic. Initially, they both thought she was a mage. It turns out she was a witch.
"What we agreed on? No, you do not have any idea about what we agreed on!
What we agreed on was, that I would get closer to Versailles to help you find your brother...
And, you would provide for my safety and security...
But when Versailles had me naked and to herself, with her filthy fingers touching me in the most sensitive places...
You were in your chambers. Sleeping. Probably worried about some other woman, while I kept screaming your name! Begging for you to come," her voice thundered. Her eyes were swollen. More tears dripped down.
My heart clenched. What had the Duke pushed her into? Being molested by a scroungy witch, at an age like her?
"Where were you then? And Sir José abandoned me too when I asked him to help me escape.
So I watched her kill him. I helped her kill him," two fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
Her supple skin was now bruised. Red and brown marks ran everywhere. She sat with her knees to her chin. Her body trembles as she lets it all out.
"I- I had no idea," I couldn't even bear to begin with an apology. What could I possibly say to ease down a pain like hers?
My eyes moistened off their own accord.
My past life flashed before my eyes. Rafael. And his words. I took was molested in my youth. Then I was forced to forget it all, and live a life of delusion.
Never once was I loved.
Did I owe the little girl an apology? Or something more.
I wasn't thinking. It didn't matter. We are all wronged. But there was no reason for me to not show this girl some kindness. Life is a wretched thing afterall. It belongs to none.
I hugged Joel. She gasped, and then her hands beat over my back. It has me wincing. Almost in pain. So much pain. I groaned. It hurt badly.
"Don't lay a finger on me! The price of knowledge shouldn't be etched on a woman's dignity!" Joel cried.
As I reeled from the disjointed sense of pain and numbness, to me I had a moment of revelation. Maybe, it was better that I forgot about it all. How does one live with the weight of the scar and the glaze of its hurt for so long?
"You are right," the words came from me.
"The price of knowledge shouldn't be etched on a woman's dignity.
But, you can't kill someone simply because you have been wronged.
I apologise for that you have endured...
But Sir José, was a good person," I added.
"A good person? What kind of good person remains unmoved when a troubled call for help demands their intervention?" Joel was burning with rage.
"A helpless one," I said.
"I don't know, Joel.
He is in a casket. Cold. But it doesn't make you any less hurt than you are..." I sighed.
"Surely. It's not his fault. It's probably yours. You let the worst things come to those who cares for you!" She cried. There were more tears rolling down her cheeks.
Where was the lie? When you separate the nuances of 'what is necessary', and that 'what is inevitable', a fine line appears. And that makes all the difference between the good and the bad.
Duke Canton is not worthy of being a male lead. He was an inexorable prick.
"I know. The fault is all mine," by this time I was crying.
Joel looked at me. Her eyes were wide with shock.
"You... You are crying?" She trembled. Now what was that supposed to mean?
"Seems like it..."
"Your tears. Dragon tears," she looks amused.
"D- do you have a vial?" She asks, her eyes lightening up. I search the pockets in my login for the ones the druid gave me. They had her medications.
I show them to her. She discards its contents, and rubs it on her clothes.
"What are you doing?" I asked, and she looked at me as if I was stupid.
"Here," she brings the vial closer to my eyes. A few moments later, she looks at the vial filled with my tears. She takes a few drops and rubs it on her face.
It takes a while, but slowly the red and brown lines disappear. Her skin clears. She brushes off her own tears then.
"I haven't seen a dragon cry. Ever," she says.
I sit there in the quiet for the rest of the ride. Joel sleeps in her seat, hugging her legs.
Maybe, if Duke Canton had more soul and substance, he would cry more. He would be less of a dragon. But then, do all dragons lack substance and soul?
The questions drift in air, as the wheels turned. The day turned to nights. I realised, some answers will find their way to me with time. Some, I won't have to worry about now.