What woke Rheannon was the movement of the person beside her. Hadrian turned to face Rheannon, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. A few strands of his long hair fell from his forehead so that it covered his sleeping face. Rheannon tucked Hadrian's hair very carefully so she could see her husband's face.
Rheannon has been living in Paiton for a week. The people in the Melchoir estate treated her well, although some were still afraid of her. Not infrequently, the servants who passed her hastily fled or deliberately hid.
Rheannon didn't mind it. It's only natural for them to be like that, considering that demon control powers are often exaggerated. The important thing was that no one in the Melchoir estate had intentionally done anything terrible to her.
At least, that's how the servants are. As for Melchoir's own relatives… Rheannon didn't know.
Hadrian had deliberately postponed Rheannon's welcome banquet until next fall. He said, concurrently with Desmond's birthday, to wait until Rheannon's condition improves. So until now, Rheannon had never met any of Melchoir's relatives.
[The Melchoirs can't possibly be afraid of you, Little Girl. They're the ones who burned your land.]
Rheannon snorted. Quite the contrary, seeing her still alive until now, even succeeding in marrying the head of their family, must have horrified those people.
***
"How long have you been staring at me?"
Rheannon slowly smiled as Hadrian's eyes opened. That man moved slightly, then closed his eyes again.
"It's already morning," said Rheannon.
"Do you know how surprised I am every time I catch you looking at me in the morning?"
Rheannon chuckled. "You'll get used to it later."
Hadrian finally opened his eyes. "You always wake up earlier than me. Do you feel uncomfortable?" he asked. As usual, the first thing he did next was check Rheannon's temperature.
"No," Rheannon replied. "I just… like this."
"Have a sleep disorder?"
"More or less. Not… as bad as you."
"My sleep disorders are not as bad as before," said Hadrian. "Thanks to Prince Axelle–it seems."
Must be the red ribbon, Rheannon thought. "That's good news."
"Did I tell you that His Highness had already arrived in Zion?" asked Hadrian then.
"Not yet," Rheannon replied. "But… I know."
"Yes, of course, you know," he said. Rheannon chuckled at that. "What about the letters you wrote to Duke Colton and Lord Chas?"
"Haven't received… a reply yet."
"That's weird," Hadrian muttered. "If your reply has arrived, their reply should have arrived here. There might be a problem with the delivery."
"Don't think… too hard. It's… it's still early."
Again Rheannon chuckled. This time it made her cough.
Hadrian swiftly offered water which was specially provided nearby. "We need to get rid of our morning chatter," he said as he helped Rheannon drink.
[There's nothing wrong with that habit. You often don't have time for me except in early mornings like this.]
Hadrian shook his head slowly. "Are we arguing now?"
Rheannon cleared her throat. "It seems like."
"My work has piled up because I left Paiton too long, that's why I'm busy. I only have time to eat with Desmond alone," explained Hadrian. "I know there isn't much you can do here and I forbid you to go out carelessly. But please wait a little longer. My work won't pile up forever. Besides, you're not in that condition to go out."
[Sounds like a far-fetched excuse.]
"I'm serious," Hadrian said firmly. "Here I am in charge of you."
"Yeah, all right," Rheannon said.
"Just as my work won't last forever, your condition won't forever be bad. Later, when things are much better, I'll take you out for a walk."
"Why do you… sound like… coaxing… a child?"
Hadrian looked stunned. "I do not mean it like that. I'm just trying to be gentle―don't laugh anymore, you'll cough."
Rheannon coughed.
***
"Today, Madame Rheannon joined the flower picking with Young Master Desmond and the gardener. She is now arranging flowers in a vase in front of Your Grace."
Hadrian's eyes automatically drifted to the flower arrangement on the vase on his desk. Looks quite messy, the result of amateur hands whose skills are not good.
"In the afternoon, she went to the library, read and learned to write as directed by the Doctor. Madame Rheannon's writing is on Your Grace's table."
Hadrian checked Rheannon's handwriting. It contains a summary of Paiton's population data from last year. Well, that's not what's important. Rheannon learned to write to relax her stiff muscles. The writing is messy and heaving, but still legible.
"This evening Madame Rheannon and Young Master Desmond had dinner together. Madame then ushered Young Master Desmond into his room before she finally went into – errr – yours," continued Calore. "No fever or cough today – according to reports from Yana."
"Thank you for the report Sir Calore. You can come back," Hadrian said.
After Calore left, Hadrian turned his attention back to the flower arrangement from Rheannon.
Simple little vase, filled with bright summer flowers that still last. Although messy, this little gift from his wife touched a corner of Hadrian's heart.
"Your Grace, I am done with the task you asked for," Ichabod rebuked at another table. Hadrian's right-handed knight also glanced at the flower vase.
Since Ichabod had heard it all earlier, it seemed that Hadrian knew what was on his mind now: "Your wife has already given you a gift, whereas you have never given anything."
Hadrian and Ichabod stared at each other.
"I know what's on your mind."
"I haven't said anything!" said Ichabod.
Hadrian let out a long breath. "That's enough. You can leave now when you're done."
"Then Your Grace himself?"
"I still have to check your work, right?"
Ichabod's expression said "are you going to work late again?" very clearly.
"I won't be long," Hadrian squeaked.
After saying goodbye, Ichabod left. Hadrian was left alone in his study.
Lonely, desolate, nothing alive, not even the flowers Rheannon had given him. The only thing that made Hadrian realize he was still alive was the sound of his heating sparks. The atmosphere he had been familiar with for years made him realize that humans were born to achieve their goals alone.
At least until someone finds someone in their life. Such as God said, Humans will not be alone forever.
And now someone was waiting for him in the room.
If you refer to the word, Hadrian is no longer alone now: he already has a life partner he has chosen forcibly.
"God will be angry if I play with His promises and creatures," Hadrian muttered as he extinguished the candle flame with his fingers instead of blowing it out.
Slowly he got up from his study and went to his room which he now shared with Rheannon. The steps he took were swallowed up by the darkness of the corridor of his quiet residence because everyone had rested now.
It was almost midnight, and neither movement nor sound would be so silent. However, Hadrian remained cautious when he opened the door to his room, afraid to wake Rheannon – who apparently hadn't slept either.
His wife was kneeling on the floor, sitting facing the window with her back to the door. Her hands were cupped on the bed and her head was bowed deeply. A whisper that Hadrian couldn't hear sounded so low in the air.
Rheannon is praying.
So Hadrian closed the door to his room again, then sat on the floor leaning against the door, waiting for Rheannon to finish.
[I don't ask for happiness, but please keep us away from sorrow and suffering.]