Under the Oak Tree - Head in the Puffy Clouds: A Collection of Daydreams

Daydream 01: His White Flag

[Imagined continuation from Book 2 Chapter 106]

The couple walked down a long corridor in silence. A cool wind blew through the dim hallway, causing flames from the hanging torchlights to tremble. Riftan instinctively pulled Max closer when he felt her shudder, and regretted the intimate contact at once. He feared that the erratic beating in his chest, which started when he first found Max, would now be so loud that she could hear it too. Swearing under his breath, Riftan stole a glance at his wife. Max appeared to be nonchalant about the internal commotion he was battling.

"Get in."

Riftan grunted upon reaching a lavishly ornamented entrance. As he pushed open the door, he immediately released his grip on his wife and nudged her in.

For a moment, Riftan could feel Max's gaze lingering on him. He refused to return the contact and instead stared straight into the room that once hosted him. Max soon dropped her eyes and followed obediently.

The door was then closed after Riftan, as he took the chance to catch his breath and pacify the chaotic situation barely contained within his ribs. He carelessly threw their luggage on the floor, removed his light armour and turned his body to face Max again. As he was about to speak, the sight of her fiery mane engulfed him.

Standing by the window, Max was staring blankly at the field outside where the troops were settling in for the day. The setting sun illuminated her amber hair which were let loose in the short span of time when they entered the room. She appeared to be deep in thoughts.

His gaze naturally followed the hair strands that were caressing her face. Her features have matured more beautifully than he had remembered them to be. Yet his heart ached at the sight of her cheeks. They used to be fair and speckled with cinnamon sugar, but the relentless sun had caramelised them. Riftan followed the sweetness on her cheeks as they trailed down her slender neck to her clavicle. He paused longingly at her bosom, before forcing his eyes back up.

Time had flown by between them.

A flashback of a trembling lady standing before him appeared. It was their first encounter back in Croix's drawing room after the lizard subjugation. The petrified girl had now matured to a confident woman who stood dignified in his presence.

His thoughts then shifted to the exchange shared with Max in the military tent. The confidence she exuded, the intelligence of her plan, the admiration those bastards held... damn it.

His mind was simply too intoxicated to function.

Furthermore, the intimate space where they were now confined in was not helping either. His nose tickled with her sweet yet mildly salty scent, while his tongue was tortured with memories of how her sweaty skin tasted. Riftan was now struggling to articulate what he had thought through for some time since the war.

"I've seen the letters... kept by our bed."

It was Max who spoke first instead. She paused for a moment as her fingers fiddled with the satin tiebacks holding back the curtains.

It felt as if a bucket of ice water was thrown right at him. Dark memories seeped into his bones, waking him up immediately. The endless nights of wine, tears and pain as he held onto the precious parchments were still excruciating.

"These few years apart, I've prayed every night for you to f-forgive me. I've tried to write more... God knows that I've even wanted to send a bible. But tho-those few were all that I could manage... I was so afraid that it was insufficient for Riftan to remember me..."

Her gaze shifted to him nervously.

"Or- or not resent me."

Riftan felt his throat tightening. He stared intently back at her. Max's lips trembled as she struggled to hold the eye contact.