Chapter 44: Chapter 44

KAMORA

Witches, in the Kingdom of Amalith, were a strange, evil version of humans. They lived just as long as humans, even looked like them, but their blood was poisonous and their tongues were filled with curses.

They were among the most hated beings in the kingdom. And Lord Maroke hated them most, as they were the ones who had cursed his family in the first place.

“Witch?”

“I never told you,” Kamora said, “because I was desperate. I feared you might throw me out if I told you my true nature. Your ancestor was cursed by one of mine.”

Lord Maroke seemed to be having a hard time grasping all that, as he barely looked at her.

“Don’t worry though,” she continued. “I never placed a spell on you.”

“I never said you did.”

“But you did think about it,” she cut in. “For a moment, I saw you wondering if the feelings you had for me were real. I’m a witch. My power can’t create true love. The closest it can do is obsession, and obviously, you are quite sane.”

“I remember why I took you in,” he said, staring at her intensely. “Was that a lie too?”

“I never lied to you, my lord. I just never told you the full truth about myself.”

“We were married, Kamora! Still are. Why wouldn’t you share this important piece of information about yourself with me?”

“Because you hate witches. And I doubt you would have helped me had I told you my origin.”

By the silence that enveloped them, Kamora knew she was right. A feeling of disappointment rose up in her, but she pushed it down, fanning the anger in her heart instead for the princess.

“Jarosh is asleep. We will have this discussion later. For now, he is our priority.”

“Greyson has gone to fetch the ingredients,” Lord Maroke said.

“Good.” She gently tried to shift Jarosh from her arms so he could lie beside her but struggled to move without disturbing him.

Before she could say a word, Lord Maroke stepped in to help. She watched as he carefully settled their son next to her, his movements tender and precise.

Her heart fluttered—annoyingly so. This wasn’t how she was supposed to feel.

She was meant to be angry, not secretly swooning over how effortlessly handsome her husband still was. She could only pray that he still remained her husband.

When he was done, he sat back down and faced her. That was when she realized that she had been staring at him.

“What is it?” he asked, looking confused.

She quickly looked away, hoping that her skin wasn’t flushed. “It’s nothing.”

The silence between them was long and awkward, and Kamora didn’t like it one bit. She had finally gotten her memories, and by heavens, she missed him a lot.

But she couldn’t say so. She hated that she couldn’t say so because of her confession.

Telling him that would seem pretentious, and she wanted to be anything but that.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Lord Maroke asked, finally breaking the silence. “How did you get this hurt?”

Kamora smiled, mirthless. “My so-called sister tried to kill me.”

Lord Maroke frowned. “The one who wished to see you at the Goddess’s grove?”

“Same one.”

“Why would she want to kill you? Aren’t you sisters?”

“Stepsisters,” Kamora corrected. “And she works for the princess.”

She looked at Lord Maroke. His face was etched in a frown. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something.

“What is it?”

“The time you went missing, I had eyes at the princess’s castle,” he said. “Someone reported that they saw a servant leaving with a large horse.”

“That’ll be Gwen. But why were you watching the princess?”

“How did she get you from our house?” Lord Maroke asked, not answering her question.

“I told her that I needed her help. I wanted to regain my lost memories, so I asked her to take me to the town where I was found.”

“Where you were…found?”

Kamora sighed. “Eight years ago, I was saved by a group of hunters who found me barely alive in a dark forest. After they had helped me regain consciousness, the only thing I could remember was my name.”

“I went back to them hoping that they could take me to where they found me, and that hopefully that’ll spark my memories.”

“Why didn’t you ask me then? I could have helped you.”

“I didn’t trust you,” Kamora confessed, feeling slightly ashamed. She stared at her hands and fiddled with them. “Gwen told me not to trust you. And you gave me a reason to when you suddenly…”

“When I suddenly what?”

Kamora could feel the heat rising to her pale cheeks. “You were sick for a long time, but you suddenly kissed me. And then called me your wife. Imagine how I, who still thought of myself as a maid, would have felt.”

“But I was right, you are my wife.”

“I know now, but then I didn’t. I was afraid that I bore a striking similarity to your wife, and you had mistaken me for her.”

“What changed your mind then?”

“Jarosh. The poor boy sincerely believed that I was his mother, and that even if I wasn’t, I could be. I could tell, from his attitude.”

She laughed. “He didn’t talk to me for weeks because I didn’t accept that I was his mother. I did it for him. I don’t like seeing him hurt.”

She faced Jarosh’s sleeping form and smiled gently. “I had made up my mind that even if I truly wasn’t his mother, then just for him, I’d try to be. I’d put up with you, and if you turned out to be just as horrible as Gwen said you were, I’d run away with him.”

Lord Maroke’s face blanched immediately. Kamora inwardly pinched herself for saying that.

“Thank the heavens I got my memories back,” she said, trying to diffuse the tension that had risen between them.

He sighed, dragging his hands through his hair. “So when you got there, did you meet those men?”

“I met one of them, yes. He led us to the path that’ll take us down the forest where I was found, and that was when Gwen tried to kill me, again.”

“Again?”

Kamora smiled. “She was the one who tried to kill me eight years ago.”