The darkness crept over Brackenwood, shadows creeping to the edges of the village under the advances of night. Alaric and Eleanor stood near the eastern watchtower as the last light of day disappears behind the hills. The patrol had been so far uneventful, but his mind was anything but at ease.
As they walked back toward the village, Alaric couldn't help but carry on in his mind those fluttering feelings of Eleanor—how every minute around her seemed electric, how the swell of confidence and presence within her branded an image, a feeling, inside him that he couldn't name. And on the other side, grating beneath his skin, Rosalind's perpetual affection.
"You're quiet tonight," Eleanor said carelessly, though Alaric could tell she wanted to know more. "Is something on your mind?"
Alaric gazed into her eyes and, in the flash of a heartbeat, considered speaking the words to her. But then again, how could he? How could he even allow himself to say to someone that his emotions and ties with Rosalind had begun to weigh so heavily on him that this felt more of a stressor than comfort?
No. He merely smiled hesitantly. "It's just thinking about all the things that have taken place lately. Everything is speeding forward."
Eleanor nodded, but her eyes said something knowing. "That's one way to put it. Bramwell might be gone, but we both know the real work has only just begun."
Alaric nodded, appreciating how she could refocus the conversation. Eleanor had this way of cutting through the noise, her sharp mind always on the next challenge. That was something he very much admired.
As they proceeded toward the outskirts of the village, soft lantern light fell warmly across the cobblestones. Comfortable silence now stretched between them, but Alaric felt tension coiling, silences leaning on the walls of his mind.
Eleanor stopped abruptly before they could separate, and turned round to face him. "Alaric, what is it about you and Rosalind?
Her directness caught him off guard. He blinked, unsure of how to respond. "What do you mean?"
Eleanor crossed her arms, her expression serious but not unkind. "It's obvious there's something between you two, but I've also noticed… well, you seem different lately. I just thought I'd ask."
Alaric's heart sped. He hadn't expected her to bring it up so bluntly, and now that the moment had come, he felt trapped between the truth and the desire to keep things simple.
"I don't know," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "Rosalind and I. we've been close for a long time. She means a lot to me. But lately, things feel complicated.".
Eleanor looked unconvinced, obviously waiting for more. "Complicated how?"
He hesitated, letting the words lay there to plague him before pushing them out. "I do care about her, but I'm not sure if it's the kind of way she wants me to. And the more time I spend with her, the more I feel like I'm lying to myself. or to her.".
She looked at him a moment, her eyes sharp but not accusatory. "And what about me?" she asked softly but firmly. "Where am I?"
Alaric's breath caught in his throat. This was it-the moment he had avoided for so long. He could not look away from her, and the truth, though difficult, was impossible to deny.
"I don't know how to explain it," he whispered, his voice so low that only he could have possibly heard it. "But there's something about you, Eleanor. You challenge me, you make me see things differently. And every time I'm around you, I feel. I don't know. It's different."
Eleanor's features softened, but she didn't utter a word. There was a heavy weight of emotions resting in the air between them, crushing the silence.
"I'm not asking for an answer now," she said finally, her voice gentle but firm. "But I think you need to figure out what you really want, Alaric. Not just for Rosalind's sake, but for your own. It's not fair to any of us if you don't.".
Her words, though kind, cut deep. Alaric knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. He nodded, unsure of what else to say.
"I'll figure it out," he promised, though the uncertainty in his voice betrayed his doubts.
Eleanor gave him a small, understanding smile. "I know you will."
And with that, they parted ways, this conversation hovering in Alaric's mind like some storm cloud on the horizon. And he walked into the inn, where his wife Rosalind was waiting for him, knowing he could hardly wait anymore for the new world being created around him would force its truth upon his head at last.
---
She was sitting by the fire at the inn back there when Alaric came in. "You're back!" she exclaimed. "How was the patrol?"
Alaric smiled, though his mind was far gone. "It was quiet," he said. "No cause for concern.".
Such was the smile of Rosalind as she rose up and stepped closer to him. "I am glad. I have been thinking on all the things that have transpired, and just wanted to take a moment to thank you, Alaric. For always being there for me. I wouldn't know what to do without you.".
Her words, full of emotion and thanks, felt like a knife twisting inside his chest. Alaric cared for Rosalind-he always had-but in her searching eyes, he could not help but feel the distance growing between them.
Rosalind, I." He faltered; words caught in his throat. He needed to say all that rolled inside him. But within the cozy comfort of the inn, he wasn't sure he could do so.
Rosalind leaned forward and placed her hand inside his. "You've been so quiet lately. Everything okay?
Alaric swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he couldn't keep avoiding the truth forever. But how could he break the heart of the girl who had always believed in him?
"Yeah," he said softly, squeezing her hand. "Everything's fine.".
For now, the truth would go unspoken. But Alaric knew that the day was coming-sooner than he was prepared for, although certainly sooner than he would have liked-it when he would need to confront reality about his feelings and their effect on both Rosalind and Eleanor.
As Rosalind smiled up at him, her trust unwavering, Alaric was weighed down with the gravitas of the decision looming before him like a shadow cast over his life. The days ahead would test his courage and the strength of his heart.