"Walk with me."
Henri looks up at me, a bit of confusion swirling within his eyes. The moment the words process within his brain is when his eyes become electric with amusement.
"Walk with you?"
"Would you rather I request you for afternoon tea?"
A brief chuckle hides behind his lips. Henri drops his pen against the desk before standing tall. He offers me his hand, and I take it happily. I'm glad to see he finds my remarks humorous. Laurance would sometimes find them rather annoying. But then again, they were quite frequent. Vylad and I rarely have conversations for me to offer him kind words.
It's only moments after walking outside that I have my parasol out to block the sun's shine against my skin. The heat is one thing, but reddening of my skin is another. It's painful, and I'm prone to it.
"Important paperwork you were working on, I suppose?"
Henri looks over to me. His smile is crooked, one corner higher on the face than the other. "A letter home." He's quiet for only a moment before he speaks again. "It's for my family."
I nod my head. I had done that back in O'Khasis when I was first visiting, not residing. Father worried about me traveling long distances on my own. He always has. I wrote to announce I arrived. The same happened when I was traveling for the wedding. I wrote when I arrived, and he was there soon after. I like to believe my letters comfort him.
Cadenza is near Meteli. Laurance has no reason to leave Meteli. At least, not for grand periods of time. O'Khasis is so far. Becoming homesick is easier because of it.
Conversation falls easily between us. I can't help but to laugh from time to time, and my face hurts from how much I've been smiling. It's hard not to smile when I'm as happy as I am. It's like I've known him for years. It's strange with the fact I've only known him for three days.
"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?" I ask, turning my face slightly in his direction. My eyes move to meet the remaining distance. He's very tall, taller than me at least, so it causes me to look up at him.
"I was sent here after you to . . . supervise." His eyebrows furrow together. It's as if he's unsure if that's the correct word he wishes to use. In complete honesty, I'm unsure if he wished to word his response as he did.
"By my husband?" My words come out as a scoff.
He's quick to fight against it. "No, no. Not by His Highness. By His Majesty, actually."
"What?" I whisper, trying to piece together why it would be the king sending someone to watch over me and not Vylad. Frankly, I don't feel like it's for my own protection. "Why would I need to be watched?"
"He just wants to make sure you're well."
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Third Person's POV
With a full heart, I am glad to announce that I have arrived back at Meteli. It has felt to be too long since I stepped on my homeland's soil, and I missed it far more than I thought I had.
Perhaps you were somewhat correct on the idea of home causing some happiness during this time in my life. I believe I will be very happy while I remain in Meteli, surrounded by my loved ones.
While it may be hard to write, I wish to thank you for allowing me to return. It's a very kind gesture despite how cruel I have treated you these past few months.
I wish you well.
Until I return,
Alexandra Ro'meave
In that moment, Vylad felt a spark of hope ignite within him. He felt foolish for it because he didn't want to be let down. He wasn't sure if she was happier that she was away from him or that she was once again in Meteli. It was apparent she considered that her home.
Though, it was how the letter smelt like roses that made him smile. How her 'AZ' stamp was waxed on the back of the envelope. He made a mental note to upgrade her wax stamp to a 'AR' instead, or, perhaps an 'A' alongside it. But despite this all, it was how she signed her name off that flattered him most.
He'd never truly seen her signature before. At least, not in a way where he was able to keep it close and nearby. She signed off with his last name. The last name he gave her.
She didn't sign off with Zvahl.
"You're acting foolish, little brother."
Garroth's voice snaps Vylad out of his concentrated state. He had been drawn into his letter for who knows how long.
Kandi places her hand on his shoulder. She looked annoyed. Not with her brother but with the woman who sent the letter. "Garroth's right. She only wrote as a reminder that she'd rather be there than here. It's quite obvious. Look at how often she mentioned 'home' in some form of way."
Vylad stands with the letter in hand, growing annoyed with his siblings' words. He wasn't foolish. He knew she felt that way, but he wanted to look at the bright side. Vylad wanted to believe his marriage would get better.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
"Garte, she's happier. Isn't that wonderful?"
Garte looks up at his wife. His desk was scattered with important documents, many of which needed his signature. The sheets of paper hadn't yet made his brain swim with letters, so he saw no need to take a break just yet.
Frankly, Zianna budding in during times like this annoyed him greatly. She was aware of this, but he had promised her long ago he wouldn't make her cry anymore.
This was after he learned of her affair. He's failed many times since.
"Zianna, you care more for that girl more than your own damn daughter." His words were harsh, the annoyance he felt evident within his tone. His gaze barely fell on her.
"That isn't true. She's in quite a delicate stage. She's freshly wed and with child. She feels hurt. . . I only wish for her to feel otherwise." Zianna then goes to clutch tighter on her fan, feeling a pang of hurt within her. "I spend a great deal of time with Kandilyn. We have afternoon tea with one another every day. We often promenade around the garden or simply sit and enjoy each other's company. While you may not, we're also frequently in town. We either ride around, or we perform charity work. It pains me, Garte, that you think otherwise."
Garte sighs, placing his pen down against the surface of his desk. The pages weren't getting to his head, but his wife's words were instead causing his head. He needed a break.
He stands, posture straightening somewhat. It was growing poor with his age. He wasn't old, but he wasn't as young as he was when he became king. Garroth's coronation would be soon nonetheless.
"Come, Zianna. Let us take a break from this business. It appears thinking about the matters on our plate aren't doing us any justice," he tells her, holding his hand out for her to hold onto. "Let's take a walk. We haven't done that for some time."
