When Aspen stepped out of the small tunnel that leads into the Magenta Garden, he wasn't expecting his day to get any worse. But apparently, the heavens are working hard to prove him wrong once again.
This day, with its setting sun and promising pink sky, is nothing more than a series of unfortunate and unpleasant events.
Were he a more devout believer in the legends of old folk tales, he might have attributed his abysmal luck to a malfunction in the wheels of fate.
"Say that again." is the only thing that his mouth blurts after a lengthy and awkward silence in his office.
They're back in his palace, having left the dismal atmosphere of the emperor's palace behind after the ugly confrontation in the Magenta Garden. Ignes is preoccupied with contacting the Duke Sieren about the preparations for his conferment ceremony, leaving Aspen alone with Ignacia as they attempted to wrap up the day's agenda.
Now, they face each other, one seated and one standing as their mutual silence continues to fill the air with tension.
Ignacia's expression gives away nothing as she repeats the words that shocked him.
"I would like to resign from my position, Your Highness."
Without wasting a beat, Aspen shoots down her request.
"Out of the question." he says, firmly and without room for negotiation. It might as well have been a spinal reflex with the way he instantly gets his voice out.
The room goes silent at once, quietened by the abrupt turn in what was supposed to be an amicable end to the day's affairs.
Ignacia stares at Aspen, her face devoid of surprise. It almost seems like she was expecting his answer.
The almost imperceptible twitch of her hand might go unnoticed by others, but not Aspen. He has spent too many years with Ignacia by his side to not be in tune with her reactions, minute as they are.
As well as she knows his tells and habits, he knows hers too.
While her face is still as serious and business-like as it normally is during their work hours, that tiny movement of her hand is a telltale sign that she's flustered.
Aspen waits, the sinking feeling in his chest beginning to squeeze his intuition in a particularly distressing way.
Nothing good ever comes of this feeling he's having now.
Aspen waits, with bated breath, for Ignacia's response, praying that his instincts are simply mistaken about this sudden and alarming development.
It takes Ignacia several seconds to gather her thoughts and speak again. "Your Highness, with all due respect, I'm afraid I cannot accept your rejection. I will be resigning from my position temporarily, before my body collapses from overworking."
Aspen stares at her, his eyes blank and unseeing as he tries to muster the strength to voice his protest.
There are many things that runs through his mind, but what comes out eventually is far from the most important question.
"Have you gotten tired of working for me?"
Ignacia blinks at him incredulously. "Of course not, Your Highness. I simply wish to take a break from my position."
"But why now? Why ask me this today of all days, when we are so close to what we set out to achieve?"
Why are you leaving me now?
Ignacia lowers the tablet she was holding in her arms. She contemplates her next words for a moment, her silence a harrowing knife against Aspen's anxiety.
"Do you remember the last time I took a break?" she asks eventually, her eyes turning strangely downcast.
Aspen doesn't understand the reason for her wistfulness.
"I do. It was a month ago, wasn't it? You took a week off right before my last rut hit me. It was horrid timing for it to come then. Far too early, in fact. It caused you a lot of trouble having to rearrange my schedule, I recall."
Ignacia nods. "Yes. Although I wouldn't say it was troublesome. I am your secretary, and adjusting your schedule to suit your needs is part of my job."
Aspen purses his lips at the reminder.
His memories of his last rut are still hazy. He remembers close to nothing about what happened other than the unpleasant scene he woke up to.
"And why do you bring this up?" he asks instead of dwelling on truths that elude him at this very moment.
Ignacia's sigh of defeat makes his heart tremble in its place.
"To tell you the truth, Your Highness, I made it a point to have a health check-up in the week I was absent from work. Back then, the doctor informed me of my results, and I was made known to the fact that my health has been declining for quite some time now."
"Your...health?" Aspen breathes, his voice but a shiver in the air.
"Yes. The many sleepless nights and months of preparation for your campaign must have taken its toll on my body. I did not believe them at first, but with the exhaustion and lack of stamina I have been experiencing recently, I think that it is high time for me to take a proper vacation to recuperate."
Ignacia offers Aspen a small, polite smile, but it does nothing to calm the jittery nerves currently lighting his muscles on fire.
Overwork... I should have known.
It's all coming back to him now.
The small interaction earlier when he thought her scent was off. The bags under her eyes and the unnatural paleness of her cheeks.
He should have known that she was unwell. But he didn't.
Frustration begins to bleed into his mind, but Aspen curbs it with a deep breath and a resigned exhale.
What Ignacia is requesting is not out of the realm of possibilities. It is true that once he has secured the position of crown prince, they will have a moment of reprieve from the constant scheming of the other parties opposing him.
As long as the emperor keeps to his promise of announcing his support for him, Aspen and his entourage can afford to take a momentary period of relief.
Of course, not too long.
Aspen struggles not to let his emotions show on his face, but he manages it with a squeeze of his fists under his table.
"How long will you be gone for?" he inquires, already dreading having to have this conversation.
To his surprise, Ignacia's scent wavers like an undulating wave in the ocean. She opens her mouth and closes it again, unsure how to respond.
The dread in Aspen's stomach deepens, seeping into his veins and filling him with dismay as she speaks again.
"I'm afraid that I do not have a specific time frame to offer you, Your Highness. My doctor has advised me that to make a full recovery, it could take anywhere between six months to a year..."
Aspen leans back in his chair, his chest feeling unbearably tight all of a sudden. "A year...?"
His instincts are going haywire in his body, insisting that this is a sham and that he must be hallucinating. He doesn't understand this feeling.
Had Ignacia requested this of him a week ago, he would have given her permission to do so as easily as he breathes. But now, he suddenly feels a surge of fear at the thought of her leaving.
Her scent, the sweetness in it. His memories of his last rut, murky and laden with fond affection as they are.
His instincts are telling him that letting her go is a terrible idea. But there's is simply no way for him to rationalise it.
He had confirmed the entry of the strange woman whom he had apparently dragged into his room unwittingly during his rut. There were witnesses who swore they saw the woman leave his chambers and return soon after with a pitcher of water.
Ignacia wouldn't lie to him about visiting her doctor either, not when the evidence of her ill health is right in front of him.
Even now, standing in front of him as calmly and resolutely as she always is, Ignacia smells not like the hearth fire that he knows and loves, but of a distressing burn, like charred wood.
Everything laid out in front of him makes complete sense, so why does his intuition tell him otherwise?
"Your Highness? Are you alright?" Ignacia's voice cuts through his rapidly spiralling thoughts before he settles into a full blown meltdown.
Her voice, soft but strong, forces him to readjust himself. With a deep inhale, Aspen relaxes back into his chair, determined not to lose himself in his mind once more.
"I'm fine." he says, hiding his tightened fists.
It would do no good for him to expose his concern and have to explain the logic behind his unruly instincts. He wagers that they must be wrong for once, because nothing is more important than Ignacia's health.
If she believes that her body is on the verge of collapse and that she needs rest, then he shall see to it that she recovers and returns to his side again.
His heart is heavy as he drags a hand down his face.
"...I understand. It's been a trying time for all of us, you most of all, since you've been pushing your limits these past few months. I won't deny you a year's break, but you must promise me one thing."
Ignacia steps closer to his desk, her eyes finding his as she stares him down.
Aspen tries to suppress the delighted shiver that cascades down the length of his spine under the heavy weight of her formidable and steadfast gaze.
"What is it, Your Highness?" she asks.
Aspen searches her face for any hint of hesitation or intent to retract her plans, but finds none.
For the first time in a while, he finds himself unable to hide the longing buried deep within him. It manifests in the slight tremble of his lower lip, which he bites down on too late.
Ignacia must notice it, because her eyes widen just the tiniest bit. But her surprise is gone without a trace in a matter of seconds, leaving Aspen questioning whether he was seeing things in the first place.
When he speaks, his voice is tight and full of invisible yearning. "Promise me that you'll come back."
Ignacia pauses before she replies, making Aspen's breath stall in his chest uncomfortably.
"Promise me this, and I will approve your request. If you don't, I won't let you go."
Ignacia's eyes hold a strange emotion in them as she grips onto her tablet tighter.
But Aspen cannot decipher it. And he hates it. He hates not being able to tell what's on her mind.
He clings to the tiny voice inside him that tells him his worries are unfounded. That this temporary separation is merely that and nothing more.
"I promise." Ignacia tells him, her expression honest and open like she always is.
This is the woman who has been by his side for nearly a decade, who went through thick and thin with him and whose words pulled him out of hell when he was at his worst.
She, with her blunt honesty and admirable spirit, would never go back on her word.
Aspen sags in his seat, suddenly feeling drained as he drops his gaze down and rests his temple on a propped fist.
The relief that floods him knows no bounds, despite the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that he ignores.
"Good." he sighs, glancing up at Ignacia before giving her a crooked smile. "You may return to your chambers if there is nothing else. Rest for now, but I will be expecting you to stay until the conferment is concluded."
Ignacia bows slightly. "Of course, Your Highness. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
With that, she turns away and exits his office, leaving Aspen alone as his dismay slowly morphs into a terrible chasm of longing.