Married To Darkness-Chapter 407: Caught Naked With a Stranger

"Then I had to go and fall for the one man made of stone and thorn."

She laughed bitterly. "Of course I did. Of course I thought maybe—just maybe—he was soft underneath. He caught me when I slipped that one time in the hall and I... I thought maybe he cared. But tonight?"

She swallowed hard.

"He said what no one dared to say. That I don’t belong."

She washed, slowly. Picking leaves from her hair. Rubbing at the dried blood and grime around her elbows. The river turned dark around her as the dirt washed away. She dipped her head beneath the surface, soaking her golden hair, then emerged with a gasp, water dripping down her face like tears from heaven.

She stayed like that for almost an hour—mourning herself.

Then—snap.

She froze.

Something broke. A twig? A branch?

Then came a low gasp.

She stilled like a deer. Her heart stopped.

Is it a bounty hunter? A wolf? Heappal?

Her eyes flicked to the treeline.

Someone—or something—was there.

She quickly ducked further into the water, hiding herself up to her chin, arms crossed tightly across her chest.

If I die, at least I’ll die clean...

But still, her breath caught. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

The wind held its breath with her.

The sharp snap of a branch was followed by a low, male voice drifting through the trees.

"Well, that’s one way to catch pneumonia."

Thalia gasped and spun toward the sound, water splashing around her shoulders. Her eyes darted through the shadows until she spotted movement—tall, relaxed, and very much watching her.

He leaned casually against a tree trunk, arms crossed. Though the moonlight cast most of his features in silhouette, she could tell he was handsome—or at least too composed for someone intruding on a naked girl in the middle of the woods.

"Who—who are you?" she croaked, clutching her arms across her chest and shrinking lower into the water.

"Just passing by," he replied lightly, his tone playful. "Didn’t mean to interrupt the... siren’s lament."

"Go away!" she hissed, cheeks flaming as she ducked further, the water nearly reaching her chin. "I’m bathing!"

He stepped forward, calm as ever, lifting his hand to reveal something crumpled.

"Looking for this?" he asked, holding up her dress—torn, stained, and noticeably chewed at the hem. "I think a possum or maybe a pine marten had its way with it. Forest animals love the scent of perfume and sweat. Not very modest of them, is it?"

She blinked in horror. "That’s my dress!"

"Well," he shrugged with a grin, "was your dress. Unless you plan to wear it half-eaten. Quite a daring look, though."

He tossed it gently onto a bush beside him and settled himself onto a nearby rock as if he had all the time in the world. His cloaks—long and made of fine velvet—fell around him like shadows. His boots were polished, and his shirt was buttoned up to his throat, a strange contrast to how comfortable he seemed with her complete lack of clothing.

"I don’t know you," Thalia snapped, trying to hide her trembling. She squatted lower in the river, one hand holding her hair over her chest, the other on her hip in a pathetic attempt to preserve dignity. "Why aren’t you leaving?"

He arched his brow and smirked. "Because you’re interesting. Besides, I told you, I’m just a traveler. You’re the one having a midnight musical in a moonlit stream. Seemed rude not to say hello."

"You saw me?" she shrieked, mortified.

He gave a slow, unapologetic nod. "In full performance, yes."

Thalia’s jaw dropped. "Do you make a habit of watching girls cry in rivers?"

"Only when they sing like that," he said, tone softening slightly. "You have a lovely voice. Sad, but lovely."

The compliment—unexpected and sincere—landed awkwardly between them. She didn’t know what to do with it. Her anger faltered, replaced by confusion and something oddly warm.

She turned away from him, retreating a few more steps into the river. "Please... I need you to leave. I’m naked," she said, voice raw.

He didn’t move. "Yeah," he said simply, "I know."

Her breath hitched. That should’ve horrified her more—but his tone wasn’t lewd. Just... amused. Teasing. Observant.

She bit her lip, cheeks burning again.

"I saw you being a damsel," he added after a beat, "but you didn’t drown, so that was impressive."

"I’m not a damsel," she muttered bitterly, "I’m a failure."

He tilted his head. "Big difference."

"I mean it." She hugged herself tighter. "Everyone either wants me to shut up or disappear. I try to help, and I ruin things. Heappal said I’m just in the way. Maybe he’s right."

Her voice cracked, and she suddenly hated that she’d let him see her like this—broken, soaked, and scared.

There was a pause. Then the man stood.

The movement made her flinch. She tensed, expecting mockery or pity.

But he only approached the river’s edge, slowly, cautiously.

"Hey," he said gently, "you’re not a failure. You’re a girl alone in a dark forest, surviving."

She turned to him, eyes narrowed. "Why do you care?"

"Because I was alone once too." His voice lost its playfulness. "And I know what it feels like to think no one sees you."

Thalia’s breath caught.

He crouched now, his cloak pooling like shadows behind him. Still at a respectful distance, he leaned forward slightly.

"You’re overthinking," he said softly. "But I don’t mind waiting here until you stop."

That... was the strangest comfort she’d ever received. He wasn’t looking at her like a prize. He wasn’t looking away in awkwardness either. He saw her—truly saw her.

And suddenly, it made her want to cry again.

She blinked rapidly and whispered, "I don’t even know your name."

"I’ll tell you," he said with a small grin, "if you promise not to scream again."

Her lips twitched, despite herself.

"...Fine," she said, swallowing thickly. "Just... turn around. Please."

He smirked. "I’ll close my eyes. But no promises about nagging for the singing—I’d like an encore."

She rolled her eyes, but a small, reluctant laugh escaped her. The stranger turned away, and she began to rise from the water, slowly, dripping, unsure if she’d just met a friend, a danger...

...or someone she’d never forget.