41 What Have You Done?

 As the carriage rolled away, the sounds of the cheering dimmed until at last, they were gone. Delaney worked to stop her tears.

 "I'm sorry," Vincent said quietly after some time. Delaney took a shaking breath and looked up at him.

 Vincent sat with his hands folded in his lap, staring at them. His black hair hung down to partially obstruct the view of his marred face. Delaney was startled to see he looked almost broken.

 The carriage hit a large bump, causing her to jolt sideways in her seat. Vincent winced, closing his eyes and clenching his fists.

 "Do they still hurt?" she asked in a voice scratchy from tears, "Your marks?"

 "Yes," he answered, taking a deep breath before opening his eyes again.

 "Do you think... Do you think one day they will stop hurting?" she surprised herself by asking.

 "No," he sighed, looking out the window, "I don't think so."