SOPHIA
"You don’t rember who you are?" The man frowned and looked at the doctor. "What’s going on?"
"It looks like your wife has amnesia. She got quite the knock on the skull, so it’s not surprising she might have mory issues."
"Will it resolve?" asked the man.
"I’ve seen worse head trauma with amnesiac patients, and most recovered their mories."
"How long will she be like this?"
"Uncertain. Best thing is to get her back ho around familiar places and people. It helps the brain as it heals. You’ll have to be patient." The doctor paused. "Though it’s unlikely, there is a chance Mrs. Willowmarch won’t recover her mories at all."
"I see."
The doctor left, and the man sat on the edge of the bed. "Your na is Sophia Willowmarch. I’m Jace Willowmarch. You are my wife." He brushed hair off my forehead, and I felt my shrinking away. He noticed, and frowned. "We were on a friend’s airship and it crashed. That’s how you got that head injury."
I felt my heart clench, and for a mont, I couldn’t breathe. I pressed my hand against my chest, which ached unbearably.
"Are you uncomfortable? Should I call the doctor?"
I shook my head. "No, no. I’m fine. I’m just tired."
"You should rest then. I’ll co back to check on you."
He helped get settled and pulled the covers up to my chin, tucking in. I noticed the scrapes on his knuckles. I grabbed his hands. "You’re injured."
"Minor cuts and bruises, wife. I’m fine." His expression seed pleased that I had noticed and said sothing caring about him.
Without mories to guide , I wasn’t sure how I truly felt about this man. We were married, so surely that ant we had chosen one another. And if so, shouldn’t my heart at least recognize the man I loved?
Instead, I felt almost repulsed. It was confusing to feel wary of the man I married. Had we not gotten along? Had he been cruel to ?
"Do we have a good marriage?" I asked.
I saw anger flicker in his gaze before his expression cleared. "We are newlyweds. And I admit, I have been in the Capital serving at the Imperial Court since our wedding night."
Wedding night? I blushed to the roots of my hair.
He chuckled.
"We have not been together yet, Sophia. You are young, and still shy about such matters. No worries. We have ti. We shall get know each other again."
"I’m sorry I’m so..." I trailed off unable to articulate how I felt.
"Like I said. We have ti. For now, you must rest. Sleep well, wife." He leaned down and pressed his lips against my cheek. I had to force myself to remain still, for I wanted to avoid his affection.
I felt bad for reacting so poorly to my own husband.
"I’ll take my leave now."
"Good-bye," I said.
He opened the door and then paused, his gaze thoughtful as he watched . I wanted him to leave. I closed my eyes and snuggled into the covers.
When I heard the door click shut, I opened my eyes again. The gas lights in the wall sconces were turned low, casting shadows in the room.
My head ached, and I touch the bandages wrapped around my head. The back of my skull felt tender, and it throbbed with pain.
I turned on my side and pulled the covers up. Not having mories was like a beautiful painting and turned into a white wall. Blank. Nothing there, but I knew sothing should be there.
How did one urge mories to co back?
What if I was like this forever?
I suppose I could build new mories. My husband seed decent enough. Still. My heart ached, and I felt unnerved. Was it that sothing felt wrong ... or that my amnesia made everything feel wrong.
I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t even know if I had parents. Siblings. Friends. The only link to the real was Jace Willowmarch.
I had to trust him.
I had no other choices.
With these thoughts circling, I feel into an exhaused sleep.
***|***|***
SOPHIA
In the dream...
I am in a garden chasing butterflies. I feel the sunshine on my face. The flowers tickle my legs. I am barefoot and the dirt feels warm and squishy under my feet.
As try to catch a big, pink butterfly, I co upon a boy. He leans against the wide trunk of an oak tree. His arm has a big slash mark and its bleeding. I see the red gather on the tree roots, pearling like a devil’s tears.
"What happened to you?" I ask.
"Nothing."
"You’re hurt." I reach into my pocket and pull out a wrapped treat. "Here. Strawberry. It’s my favorite."
"I’m not a baby. You don’t have to coax with candy."
"It will make you feel better." I unwrap it and press it into his mouth. He has no choice but to accept it. "Is it sweet?"
He nods.
The pink butterfly lands on his hand.
"Butterflies give you luck," I say.
"That’s sothing dumb a kid would believe." Still, he looks pleased as he studies the pink pearlescent wings. "It’s pretty.Look," says the boy. "It’s a heart."
The butterfly’s wings are shaped like a heart, and in the golden light of the sun, the wings sparkle.
And then ... the butterfly becos a gem.
For a mont, I think I recognize it.
"One heart," he says.
The voice is deep now, and when I look again, there’s not a little boy, but a grown man. He wears a silver and black uniform. He has dark wavy hair and midnight eyes.
"What do you an?" I ask him.
He takes my hand and gently places the gem in my palm. It’s cool and heavy. "Your heart," he says. He pulls on the heart and it splits in two. "My heart."
He puts the gem back together. "One heart," he says again.
I feel big splats of rain hit my face. Thick, dark clouds block out the sun. The world tilts.
The garden disappeared.
Im a ship. Sliding across a wooden floor toward a gaping hole in the wall.
There’s rain and movent and fear.
Down.
Down.
Into the hole.
Out in the air.
I’m falling.
I’m falling.
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