To Bewitch a Devil

“Neera?” Zavian sat up and cupped her face. “Did I say something wrong?”

Neera shook her head. “No,” but her voice cracked.

“There’s something bothering you,” Zavian stated. “And I need you to trust me enough to tell me.”

“Oh Zavian,” a tear dropped into the water. “Please, stop. I am fine.”

“You are not.”

“You have to believe me. I am.”

“And I have known you long enough to know you aren’t.” he caught the next tear that fell and wiped it away. “What could be so bad for you to keep to yourself?”

If only you knew, Zavian, if only you knew.

.....

“I’m really tired,” Neera said, all the delicious desires she had in mind for the night leaving her. “I should go and sleep. I’d be expecting you in bed.”

And so she rose, and Zavian could only look at her, only watch her as she wrapped a towel around her body, and left the bathroom, head bowed, in shame, in guilt, in pain, Zavian wouldn’t know.

....

Penelope ran down the stairs, almost hitting a maid carrying an armful of laundry. She apologized, and sped on, heading straight for the entrance.

Neera stepped in first, followed by the King, and Penelope did a quick bow to him before jumping into Neera’s arms.

“Oh my, I have missed you!” Penelope said.

Neera laughed and hugged her best friend tight. “It was only a day.”

“More like a century to me.” Penelope broke the hug and gazed into the face of her friend. But Penelope saw the small exchange between her and Zavian, the politeness in their actions stringed to one another by tension.

Penelope waited for Zavian to walk away before she asked Neera, “What’s wrong? Did everything go well?”

“Yes, we enjoyed ourselves.”

“Okay,” Penelope noted the lack of enthusiasm in her tone. She wanted to ask more but decided to drop the questions at intervals so as not to overwhelm Neera or come across as snoopy in a couple’s matter.

“Guess what? Tira and I came to an understanding.” She said.

“Oh? How so?”

“I rode her, nothing fast. And she allowed me without trying to throw me off,” Penelope said proudly. “See? I am a fast learner afterall!”

“I’m proud of you, Pen,” Neera said, her tone flat.

“Okay, please tell me what is wrong.”

“Nothing, Pen.”

“I was expecting you to come in here gushing with news and details, but not this,” Penelope said. She gasped, and asked, “Have you been sick?”

Neera nodded, hesitant at first. “Somehow.”

“And your monthlies? Have they been regular?”

“I’m not with child, Pen,” Neera said patiently. “If I was, you’d know at once. But I would appreciate it if you spent the afternoon with Freya and me. I told Zavian I would like to read her a book, poetry maybe.”

Penelope gave a loud, unladylike snort. “Read her tales of humans being maimed. It’s probably the kind she’d enjoy.”

“Pen, she’s my family, and that’s a cruel thing to say.”

“I’m sorry,” and Penelope truly was, ” but she’s hurt you a lot. While I don’t wish her bad, I don’t agree that you to be nice to her, or be anywhere around her. She doesn’t deserve you,” Penelope ranted.

“Well, aren’t we all good and bad? Some even worse, no matter how much they hide it.”

Penelope wanted to ask Neera what she meant by that statement, but Neera was already walking onward, and Penelope battled if she should follow or not. She did eventually, for Neera’s sake alone.

Neera was already seated by Freya, studying her body for the little changes, which were as always, none.

“It’s been long that she’s been in there,” Penelope said.

“The only thing we can do is change positions every two hours to avoid her getting bed sores. Has she been turned today?” Neera asked Penelope.

“Yes, two maids were in here not quite long ago,” Penelope said. She brought forward two chairs by Freya’s bed, and an unfinished book Neera had kept in her bedside drawer. Neera flipped open the pages and began to read Freya a story, and Penelope listened with interest, surprised as Neera’s words glided easily over letters, a skill the Neera she knew didn’t possess.

Neera was well into the story minutes later, the cadence of her voice in tune with the emotions of the book, a story of a young orphan boy who came across fame. It was then they both heard a grunt, and Neera stopped reading, and Penelope’s hand flew to her gaping mouth.

“Did you hear that?” Neera asked.

“She made a sound!”

“Freya, can you hear me?” Neera shook her. To Penelope, she said, “Go and get Zavian, and tell him to come fast.”

Neera tried shaking Freya awake again– a light slap on her cheeks, shaking her shoulders, tapping her arms, but Freya still lay in the same unmoving redundant state.

It didn’t take Zavian long to come bursting through the room. He darted to his sister’s side, repeating all that Neera had done before, only more vigorous that Neera was afraid he would hurt her unconsciously.

“Zavian,” Neera put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“What did she say?” He asked.

“Nothing, only a grunt.”

Zavian stared at Freya’s face, wordless. “Good,” he finally said. “Good, that’s progress. I should have the doctor come look at her. It means she’s coming back to us.” He put a hand on Freya’s cheek, and his words were softer as he said, “You’re doing well, sister. Just put in more effort.”

Penelope pulled her eyes away from the sentimental scene, and she remembered her earlier statement and the lackadaisical way she had thrown her words. She apologized internally to all the demons in the room, and promised she would voice her apologies to Neera later on.