Chapter 3 - Healing in the Cottage
The silence that followed Vivien's departure was heavy.
Grace was still on the floor, holding Lily close. Her mind was spinning. She had just witnessed the destruction of an empire's alliance. She had seen the terrifying power of Nathaniel Callaway firsthand, but more than that, she had seen him protect her.
"Grace," Nathaniel's voice broke the silence. He was standing over her, his expression filled with deep concern. "Let me see your hands again. We need to get you to a doctor."
"No, please, Mr. Callaway," Grace pleaded, her voice trembling. "I have first-aid supplies in the cottage. I just... I need to get Lily out of here."
Nathaniel didn't argue. Instead, he did something that shocked Grace completely. He reached down, slipped his arms under Lily, and lifted the crying three-year-old into his arms. He didn't care about the soot on Lily's dress ruining his bespoke suit.
"I'll carry her," Nathaniel said. "Lead the way."
They walked out of the mansion, through the manicured gardens, and down the gravel path to the small, cozy staff cottage.
Once inside, Nathaniel gently set Lily down on the worn sofa. Grace immediately went to the kitchen sink, running cold water over her burned hands, trying to suppress her whimpers of pain.
Nathaniel appeared beside her, taking the first-aid kit from the shelf. "Sit down, Grace. Let me do it."
"Mr. Callaway, I can't—"
"Sit down," he repeated, his tone soft but commanding.
She sat at the small wooden dining table, and Nathaniel knelt before her. With incredible gentleness, he cleaned her burns, applied soothing ointment, and wrapped her hands in clean white bandages.
"I'm so sorry, Grace," he said, looking up at her, his dark eyes filled with genuine remorse. "I brought Vivien into this house. I allowed her to put you and Lily in danger. This is my fault."
"It's not your fault," Grace said softly, her heart pounding against her ribs. "You didn't know what she was."
"I should have known," he muttered. He looked over at Lily, who had stopped crying and was now staring at her hands, missing her toy. "I will replace everything she lost, Grace. I swear it."
"You don't have to do that," Grace whispered. "The bunny... it was made by my husband, Aaron. It can't be replaced. But we will be okay. We always are."
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Nathaniel looked at Grace—really looked at her. He saw the strength in her tired eyes, the fierce love she had for her daughter, and the quiet dignity she maintained despite everything. For the first time in years, the cold armor around Nathaniel's heart cracked completely.
"I will make this right," he vowed.
