"Of course they were hard on their only child..." I gave my head a brisk shake. "No, I won't blame them for it. My ambitions exceeded their expectations. That's on me. But if I went back in time, to talk to my younger self, I don't know what I'd tell him instead. I wasn't about to just...get kicked around."
"But you do have regret and I'm here to listen to them," she said. "So what's the worst of them?"
"The worst...is my years of cruelty to Chester. I saw him as the weak side of myself, and I punished him for it. His animal form is a sugar glider--kind of a cute, ridiculous little thing, if you've never seen one. Everyone always said your familiar reflects who you really are. There was no way of hiding it. Whether in animal form or human form, he made me look weak. I felt that I had to reject him. Of course, I've done other things, but I know Chester actually loved me as you probably still love Bernard. My cousins, and their friends--I shouldn't have hurt them like I did, but in the end, the hell with 'em. They always cut me out and treated me like I wasn't as good as them. Kids are cruel. They weren't stupid either. They could see I was useless and unattractive and not a royal either."
"You're not unattractive, and not useless at all!” Jenny said, like it was just a fact. "I thought you and Helena looked a lot alike!"
I snorted. "You're too kind. Especially now. If I ever had any hope of being attractive, it's definitely out the window. I will never marry. I'm not joking about the monastery."
"Well, it sounds like a monastery might be good for your soul...," Jenny said. "On the other hand, you're being a little silly. I'm sure someone could marry you, if you weren't too standoffish. I mean, Mr. Rochester wasn't supposed to be attractive, and--oh! Oh!" She suddenly just grabbed my maimed arm like she was actually excited. "Have you ever read that book, Piers? Because at the end, Mr. Rochester has lost his hand and his face is scarred, and he's pretty moody too!"
"Are you saying that because a character in a book found love despite all his mistakes and hardships, that I'll just waltz right into it myself?" My skin burned where she was holding my jacket.
"I guess not. I just thought...it might make you feel better, because it was a very romantic book." She pulled her hands back and smashed her face into the pillow. "You're right. That sounded stupid."
"I guess it did make me feel a little better," I said.
"Oh, good.” She smiled with exquisite innocence.
"Well...I suppose that was the original sin. I turned on Chester and started bullying him and sending him away, to save my own skin. It all started there. And I've done countless other awful things since. It just kept escalating, and I still don't know that I can even be absolved, because I'm not sure I would have ever snapped out of it if I hadn't lost a fight so badly..." I babbled out the words now, almost trying to push her back to arm's length, because...
Well, comparing me to one of classic literature's most famous antiheroes, and one who fell in love with a very plain but clever girl at that...it was hard not to want to misinterpret that.
And I really had no intention of driving a wedge between her and Bevan. I knew she would be infinitely happier with him. I wanted to dislike Bevan because he was Helena's familiar, but having traveled with him, I really couldn't. He was a level-headed, loyal person who understood the value of team work and wasn't short on skill, either. He would be a good mate for a sweet girl. She trusted too easily, but that trust would be in good hands.
I knew I was no good match for any girl. Much less one I actually liked. Why would I want to punish her that way?
"We'll never really know what might have happened if things went a different way," Jenny said. "So it seems like you could spend your whole life getting mad at your other self, but in some parallel timeline, your other self ended up realizing his mistakes on his own. So then all that thinking is for nothing."
"I'm not sure about this logic. You trying to let me off the hook?"
"But if you have actually changed, I think it's punishment enough that you know what you did, and you've been scarred by it, and now you should try to do something better with yourself. Something that makes you happy."
"When did happiness come into this?"
"Why shouldn't it?"
"I am certainly not owed that much."
"It's not something you're owed. It's something you have to find, even when it's very hard, but what's the point of anything without happiness?"
"The point is...survival of the fittest. That's nature."
"You have been happy...or have you?"
"Sure I have."
"What makes you happy?" Her eyes lit up like her favorite thing in the world was hearing what made other people happy.
"Um..." I didn't want to sound so ridiculous as to not have an answer, but I really didn’t. "Chocolate."
"Chocolate!" she crowed, like this was a triumph of her own. Then she started coughing so hard that I feared I'd forced too much out of her by talking to her for so long. I had fully expected her to doze off at the sound of my voice, not to ask me questions or compare me to Mr. Rochester.
I’m not sure I really meant chocolate. I think I meant the chocolate she gave me. The small hand shoving a plate with a single cookie under the cabinet, and a voice ringing out, “Here you go, Piers! It’s a cookie!” even as she knew I wouldn’t answer.
I brought her a smidge more of the soup. "Here. The steaminess of it will help a little." With only one hand to steady the bowl, I almost spilled more on her.
"Thank you, Piers," she said raggedly. "Oh, my ribs ache so badly... I don't think I've ever been this sick."
"I'll let you get back to sleep."
She put her hands on both my arms again--ever so briefly--as I took the bowl away. "I didn't mind listening," she said. "I'm glad chocolate makes you happy. I'll be making more of it as soon as I can get out of bed."
"Don't worry over it now," I said.
She settled deep into the blankets with a sigh. "Goodnight, Rochester."
I scoffed and went to clean the bowl and busy myself in any way that didn't involve her, but my skin burned with a feeling that seemed no more controllable than the movements of the tide.
She doesn't have feelings for you, Piers. And alas for her if she did.
Chapter Six
Jenny
He reminds me of Bernard, but if only Bernard would say those words to me... The thoughts in his heart...even if they're flawed, it's better than the way he shut me out.
I just wish he'd talk to me. Invite me in.
But I guess Chester probably wishes the same of Piers...
After struggling hard to stay with it, my eyelids finally shut like they'd never open again. My eyes burned. I could still hear Piers tidying up, or whatever it was that he was doing, and the sound soothed me back to sleep.
I had a strange dream in which I was naked in an open meadow with nowhere to hide, and my magic wouldn't work to conjure clothing. Dark clouds gathered overhead from the west, and from the same direction, Variel was riding toward me on a huge black horse. I was horrified that he might see me naked again, but suddenly a man was there to protect me.