The Watch

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When my eyes finally open, I find myself seated at my desk exactly as expected.

Although ...

As has become my perpetual habit on such occasions, my right hand darts automatically into the depths of my jacket pocket. And for the briefest second I allow my fingers linger there, as if in consideration of the cool sterling silver case.

... One can never be too cautious in these matters, yes?

And with that, I pluck the pocket watch from the depths of my jacket and sigh to myself as I bring it upwards for closer inspection.

This is no ordinary watch, not even by magical standards of the word. 

No;

This is brilliance actualised.

My own invention, something born of tremendous personal cost and effort. Narrowing my eyes now, my attention darts briefly from the watch to the ring on my finger. And then, naturally, to the thought of my locket, which I know to be tucked safely beneath my shirt. What happens next is purely reflexive; my left hand can't seem to resist flying upwards through the air. And when my palm finds my chest it pats lightly, as if to truly ensure the locket's in its proper place. 

It is.

So back to the watch, then ... 

Quite a different cost than those.

Quite a different matter altogether.

As I resume my study of the watch, I let my attention focus on observing its delicate inner workings. The room, now completely silent save for the steady click and tick.

- Click and tick -

- Click and tick -

 Now, for the first time, I allow myself the smallest of smiles.

Because yes;

It worked.

Done it again. I've done it again.

Just as I knew I would.

The smile is fleeting. They always are. My face doesn't wear a smile well. In its place, a frown at the thought that always follows:

... It's going to be the death of me, all this foolish business.

But I'm in too deep ...

I'm in far too deep to stop myself now.

Carefully shutting the watch, I pocket it again as I rise to my feet. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on just a single thought. A single message to someone I know can't be very far away:

"Come."

Sure enough, barely thirty seconds later and I hear the telltale knock on my door.

"Enter."

I watch the way her long black curls bounce in her wake as she slips through the door to the study and shuts it slowly behind her. The way the sunlight catches her as she steps forward towards me now.

"My Lord."

"Change of plans. You are to inform Rabastan that I will not require him for this morning's excursion."

"... My Lord?"

"I'll be going alone."

"But ... My Lord. You've spent months meticulously planning -"

At this, I merely wave my hand dismissively, "Yes, I'm completely aware. And now I'm changing those plans, Bella. And my patience for you, already stretched thin, is dangerously close to snapping entirely."

Freezing, Bella blinks back at me before nodding slowly, "Right. Understood, My Lord. Understood perfectly."

"... Expect me to be gone all of the morning and afternoon. I don't anticipate returning until late this evening, and even that's a loose estimation."

Shifting her weight from side to side, she opens her mouth to reply but instead promptly shuts it again as she shakes her head.

In the silence that follows, the two of us stare one another down intently.

"What? Out with it."

"No."

"If you don't tell me, I'll force my way into your thoughts."

"Just ... that we had plans for this evening. The function. You and I, together."

"I'm cancelling."

"We were to be together, My Lo -"

"Isn't that why you have a husband, Bella?"

"I -"

"Bring Rodolphus. It's an order."

"... Understood."

"Excellent. Now go. Go and tell Rabastan his services aren't needed. I'm leaving now, and I'm leaving alone."

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