Page 52 of The Chains You Defy

“The more time goes by, the less his assault is affecting me.”

“Bullshit. How often do you have flashbacks or nightmares?” I was relentless, maybe even ruthless, but there was no way in both worlds I would let her continue ignoring her issues. We would head to Galanta soon, and the last thing any of us needed was for her to have a major breakdown in Alaiann near my grandfather.

As Nayana opened her mouth, I resisted the compulsion to smooth out her forehead, and moments later, she’d changed her mind about speaking.

Of course, she was easy to read. She desired to deny she had those episodes at all, and she knew I could tell that she wanted to lie to me. One of my eyebrows shot up, and I scowled at her.

Her sigh—or more a shuddering breath—sounded as if all the weight of the worlds was resting on her shoulders. “Often.”

“I don’t pretend I can fully comprehend what you’ve been through or how being violated like you have been must feel. Violence, like the one your father did to you, I understand all too well, but having your body assaulted in the most intimate way is something I can’t empathize with from experience. But I promise you that I’ll try my very best if you confide in me. We’re friends, after all.”

“Your grandfather mistreated you.”

“Plenty of times. I won’t deny that his treatment has been brutal at times. But Naya—if you think for just a moment I wouldn’t recognize your attempt at deflection, you’re wrong.”

Naya’s shoulders sank in defeat, her whole defensive stance deflated, and she lost another one of those heart-wrenching sighs. “I thought letting my memories rest would be easier. After all, the attack was only a one-time thing.”

“Doesn’t matter if there was one act of aggression or a thousand. The recollection burdens you. So, tell me what you consider the most difficult part.”

“Maybe that the incident is refusing to stay in the past. Whenever someone approaches me, that person wears Jelric’s face for a moment, and even when I return to reality, the picture of him lingers. And I’m just so, so scared. What if this will never change, and I’ll always have the horrible memory functioning as a gatekeeper when it comes to men and—especially—to sexuality? Also…I ask myself all the time if the assault had been my fault. If I hadn’t worn the dress Jelric had sent me or if I had refused to accompany him to a deserted area, hemight not have—” Naya fell silent, and as her eyes glossed over, an invisible fist punched me in the guts.

But I schooled my expression and nodded. For a moment, I stayed muted, allowing her to catch her bearings, when an idea forced me to leave her side on the chaise. I got up and stalked over to a little table in the corner of the room. Picking up a small dish with a selection of assorted chocolates I’d requested from the kitchen earlier, I carried the plate over to her. She had a sweet tooth, and maybe the confectionery would comfort her. Setting the treats down on her lap, I produced a cloth tissue from the pocket of my tunic and handed the soft square to her as well. Only then did I sit down again.

“He wanted to humiliate and degrade me. The things he said—for him, I was an object he could use to satisfy his needs. And when I struggled and cried, he was turned on by that. So, in the end, he got his wish fulfilled. I’m still ashamed.”

“There’s no reason for that. He decided to violate you, and honestly, nothing you would have done could have caused a different outcome. Considering he’d ordered you to dress like a harlot, his assault wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment attack. He planned to desecrate you, and that piece of shit didn’t care if you suffered and kept scars from his molestation. And, on the other hand, you relied on your general trust that even an asshole like him would have some decency. Then the shitstain of a human being obliterated your faith, and as you did mention before, you’re scared never to find your peace again.”

Naya’s throat bobbed. More and more moisture pooled in her eyes the longer we talked, and even if her pain tore at my heart, I was relieved she granted herselfpermission to mourn the woman she’d been before the incident. The one she would never be again.

“Back in the stables, you were a victim. But the time has come, Nayana.”

“Time for what?”

“To become the survivor I know you are.”

I softly stroked Nayana’s hair.

She’d fallen asleep after she’d cried for gods-know-how-long. Before that, she’d allowed me to hold her. I’d even asked for her consent beforehand. Her searching for comfort in my arms did funny things to my pride, and I couldn’t stop preening.

While she’d been crying and eating all the chocolate in between, I’d noticed her gaze flickering to the four-poster again and again. So, I’d carried her to the bed, and we’d lain down together.

I clamped down on my urge to puff up my chest. Even if she hadn’t completely forgiven me after I’d omitted so much, at least she trusted me with her body, and that wasa start.

“Dion?” The tiny woman in my arms stirred, and her voice sounded fatigued and raspy from weeping.

“Don’t you wish to sleep some more?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Mh.”

Nayana didn’t indicate that she wanted me to let go of her, so I continued petting her silky tresses, and warmth bloomed in my chest as she sighed contentedly.

“Dion?”

“Yes, Naya?”

“Will that ever go away?”