He was a monster to most, but she loved him fiercely. He didn't know it, and maybe she didn't either. But love was the tie, the bond that kept bringing her back.
She walked from school to the tower every day, at precisely the same time, the right time, waiting to hear the bells. After the sweet peal that signaled evening, he would meet her in the gardens with a book and a piece of caramel. She knew he stole the candy, but she never mentioned it.
Once he'd been late, and when she asked why, he punched the tower's stone wall. It was the only time he'd shown her personally what his true nature looked like. She ignored it and tore a strip of cloth from her skirt to bandage his bloodied fist.
Years later she would wonder what had happened to him. When her husband found the cloth, with its faded brown stain, she merely shrugged. "Woman troubles," was her excuse. And in a way, it was the truth.
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