“Get dressed. Something modest. Forget those frilly dresses. And leave the jewels and tiara.” Logan was pacing back and forth, rummaging through closets and throwing her clothes.
“But… Shouldn’t we go and tell my father that…”
“What? Tell him that you’re alive? We can’t do that.”
“Why?”
Logan stopped and turned to look at her. She was sitting on the bed, clutching a soft, grey dress in front of her. He kneeled in front of her.
“Marie… As far as your father’s concerned… You’re dead. He has no daughter anymore. He doesn’t want or need you anymore. For him you’re… Useless. Damaged. It’s Scott’s turn to step forth and take the throne once your father dies. It’s up to Scott to form a union with some other kingdom. You’re not needed anymore. But as long as you’re alive, you’re on their way. You have to ‘die’ if you want to stay alive.”
“But… No.”
“Yes. For now you’re going to stay in my quarters, just long enough that I can find a better place for you. I’ll take you there and go and ‘bury’ your body. But we have to hurry. Get dressed. Leave everything else.”
“I can’t…”
“You can and you will if you wish to keep that pretty head of yours attached to the rest of your body. You should be dead by now. Xavier will soon send somebody to take care of your body. I have to take you to my place and hurry to the crypt before that happens.”
“Be quiet now.” Logan whispered. She muttered a quiet curse and tried to breathe. It was hard. Logan had wrapped her to a thick blanket from head to toe and hoisted her over his shoulders. To everybody it would look like he was carrying a corpse. She could see floor tiles and flashes of Logan’s feet as he walked. Walked. He wasn’t running. And she could feel his shoulders hunching a bit.
“What are you doing?” She braved a silent whisper.
“Shut up. Dead people tell no tales, Marie. You’re dead, I’m angry and disappointed and I’m just going to my room to take care of something before I go and put you under a slab of stone.”
She could feel his shoulders tensing a bit. Then Logan stopped.
“Wolverine.” Her father. She felt chilly fingers of fear creeping along her spine. He’d know that she wasn’t really dead. He knew everything.
“Xavier.”
“So. It is over?”
“Yes.”
“Was she in pain?”
“I’d imagine so. Drake raped her. Tore up her innards.”
“I see… In your opinion, what would be the suitable punishment for that?” Her father asked. And she knew. Her father knew that she was alive. He knew and was willing to pretend.
“Give drake to me at the arena. I’ll make sure that he knows how Mar… Rogue felt in the end.”
“That sounds reasonable. Does she… Do you need anything? I presume you’re going to bury her now. Does she have proper outfit? Do you think she would have wanted something with her to her last journey?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should… Maybe you should try and see if your gift extends to afterlife. Maybe you could ask from her soul…”
“But of course. How silly of me.”
She felt her father’s gift brushing against her thoughts. She cringed back in fear, but she couldn’t feel anything but sadness and tiredness floating from the old man. And regret. In his own way her father was trying to apologize what had happened.
“I’m afraid it’s impossible. She’s truly gone. My poor daughter… Can’t have even proper burial because of that young fool… Make sure that Robert learns everything there is to know about pain before you finish him, Wolverine.”
“I promise. But now I really have to hurry. I need to get her cleaned up and properly dressed before…”
“Yes. Yes, of course… When you’re ready, I want you to come and see me. In my private quarters. I’ll be resting for the rest of the day.”
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