Read Avalon Revamped for Free Online

sorry. I’m so sorry.”
    “It’s all right. It’s not your fault. It’s all right.” Her torment started to affect me as well, breaking down my barriers of self-protection. I had to leave soon or suffer along with her. My presence was not a comfort to her. No. Nothing could comfort this poor woman for long. Death would be her only release from this prison to which Lord Nicholas Stanton had sentenced her.
    Lord Nicholas Stanton would not know such relief, not for centuries.
    “I hate him,” she groaned from her protective cave. “Yet, I love him still, even after everything he’s done.” Her face filled with an ethereal glow as she lifted her head. She smiled, revealing browning teeth from her neglect in this place. “Sometimes, I still think he’ll come for me. That he’ll walk through that door and smile, blue eyes shining, and tell me it was all a mistake. He’ll take me by the hand and caress my cheek and say that he loves me and he’s been trying to get to me for years. That it was all just a misunderstanding.” She giggled, the sound innocent and harrowing at the same time. Then, her face fell.
    “It’s been two years, Constance. He’s not coming, but sometimes I still dream he is. Sometimes it still feels so real, like he really did love me after all. Like I’m right back there, dancing with him. Laughing and planning our wedding. The way he’d look so deeply into my eyes when he’d kiss my wrist. Then, it fades, leaving only silence or the sound of my breathing, my weeping, my face against my wet sheets. A rattle of the chains that bind me, and I’m not talking about these.” She shook her hands at me, jolting the chains into a clamor of sudden noise. “I’m talking about these!” she cried, pointing to either side of her head.
    “I know, sweet Sarah Ann. I know. I must go now, my dear. My apologies. I’ve done what you’ve summoned me to do. Take some comfort in his demise, knowing he’s not out dancing and laughing while you’re trapped in here.”
    “Yes. That will be comforting, indeed. That was added torment, you see? Knowing he was wooing others, hurting others and enjoying it. Did I tell you of the pleasure I saw in his eyes as I cried? Did I? It was more frightening than anything I’ve seen before or since, to see how much he enjoyed my pain, my tears. Horrifying, Constance.”
    “Monstrous.”
    “Yes. Quite monstrous. Now I can rest easier, thanks to you.”
    “Thanks to you, Sarah Ann. Remember, your courage stopped him from hurting anyone else. Your voice. Always remember that, sweet lady. You are so strong, and I am in awe of you. You endure all this, and yet you have the clarity and courage to continue to fight. You are an inspiration to me.”
    “Thank you for that, dear Constance. Thank you so much. For the kindness you’ve shown in a world that is so cold, so devoid of hope, of love and tenderness. In a world such as this, genuine kindness is rather revolutionary.”
    “Take care of yourself. Take some comfort in this.”
    “I shall,” she said, sitting up straight, head held high. “Now if I can just avoid the Rotating Chair, all will be well again. They say I ask too many questions and must be silenced. But I will not be silent. Never again.”
    “The Rotating Chair? They should’ve done away with such savage treatments fifty years ago.”
    “Yes, so they like everyone to think. They’ve kept them in the basement where no one goes, not the press, anyway. None of the private tours neither, and if you’re not good enough, if you don’t laugh and dance and paint and play the piano like a good girl—if you ask too many questions or don’t take your medicine—you get the Rotating Chair, or worse. I have no need for frivolities like dancing anymore. It reminds me too much of what’s lost, of what he took from me, but I would like to write. They won’t let me write. Why is that, Constance? Why won’t they let me write? What harm could come of