"Wife." The hand on her wrist was firm, her husband's intentions clear as day. Nothing was as clear as the look on his face, however. Hesitation and, if she had the heart to think harder about it, disappointment. "Don't bother with it. I'm no longer in the mood."
She swallowed the lump in her throat, a thousand panic-inducing thoughts rushing through her mind like a hurricane.
Did she say something hurtful? Did she look strange in her sleeping garments? Worst of all,
Was her husband no longer attracted to her?
No, that couldn't be it.
"Oh, okay." Sophie tried to pry her wrist out of her husband's hold, taking a striking amount of effort for him to notice her struggle.
He released her from his heated grip, but his forest-green eyes remained dull, his mouth stuck on an unhappy line.
The sight set off a foul feeling down Sophie's stomach.
"We can sleep instead. Would you like to hold each other?" She found herself extremely grateful that tomorrow was the beginning of a weekend. That meant less load for the overworked Duke of Rogethen and more time to bond with her beloved.
Having to voice initiative, especially when it came to affection, was unusual in their marriage, an unnatural act.
On a usual day, Luke was already on his wife the moment she touched the soft cushions of their bed, wrapping his long limbs around her body protectively, like a clingy koala to its favorite tree.
He had never been affectionate with his words, and "I love you too" scarcely left his mouth, but his actions conveyed what he felt well enough.
Looking back, she realized that he hadn't voiced his desire for around five months, not since the conflict about the crown's succession came to light.
Luke had gotten caught up in the affairs of the royal family because he was one of the few nobles who were reliable, trusted and respected by the king and queen themselves.
Sophie offered her care and support from a safe distance, handling their estate the best she could. So it couldn't be that he was frustrated at her for contributing nothing, right? She was doing her best as his wife.
"I'd rather not." Luke grunted, moving away from Sophie's place in the bed to retrieve his clothes from the floor.
"Why?" Sophie asked, helplessness and dejection potent in her voice.
Desperation was uncharacteristic of her, preferring to play the role of the obedient wife, but she needed to know what she had done to warrant her husband's displeasure.
Luke stayed unmoving for a moment, staring hard at the bedroom wall to avoid his wife's frantic gaze. Even in the dimly lit space, he looked perfect and perfectly untouchable, back sculpted by cherubs who longed to create a figure worthy of divinity.
Eventually, he acknowledged her question with a shrug, and got up to walk towards the door.
"I'm not feeling it. That's all."
The look on her husband's face was chillier than the moonlight seeping into their room through the glass windows.
Sophie sat alone in a bed too large for her singular frame, hands shaking as she tried to deny the humiliation creeping into her chest.
Sure, she'd arrived later than usual, having to make a stop at the nearby woods to handpick her husband's favorite flowers, but it wasn't like she'd been neglectful.
Despite already having to juggle so many responsibilities, handling matters of the household while her husband managed wars and political conflicts, she'd made a genuine effort for their anniversary night, dressing alluringly while her husband had his bath.
She foolishly thought her wedding anniversary would be spent like her last one, full of passion and pure, unadulterated need for one another's touch, uncaring of what they'd break in their pursuits.
But this....
They loved each other. They could barely sit still without the other's presence, despite being married for four whole years.
At least that was what Sophie had been telling herself.
Burying her anxiety in an ocean of denial was the only viable way to cope. After all, the Duke promised they'd talk it out if anything were to happen between them.
Why hasn't her husband opened up? Did Sophie do something unforgivable to deserve this treatment? Were the flowers not to his liking?
She observed the way a lone petal fell from the bundle, it'd been ignored by Luke entirely and she only realized in the deafening silence how out of it he was during supper.
Unable to acknowledge the tears streaming down her face, she draped their shared blanket over her body, wanting to sleep away the heinous feelings coiling in her gut.
When her husband returned hours later from who knows where, he failed to notice the sadness imprinted on her face or, at least, he pretended not to notice.
Sophie pretended not to notice too.