The Lady of the Swamp roused half an hour later with a slow blink and a sharp intake of breath.
The cool between her legs brought the memory back at once, and color crept into her death pale cheeks until her skin took on a faint rosy hue.
Her eyes drifted to Joji on the bedside, and then away again, as if looking at him too directly would make the feeling in her chest swell into something she could not control.
Four hundred seventy two years fell away in a breath. She heard her master's voice like it was still riding the wind.
"You're living with half a life missing, without a man," the woman said, voice dry with hard-won certainty. "Naive girl... I almost pity you."
That was the last time the Lady of the Swamp saw her master. She had flown off on her broom, leaving the curse behind like a spit stain.
Now the Lady of the Swamp lay there and swallowed, suddenly unsure whether anger or agreement tasted worse.
