whispers of destiny || (clive rosfield x reader)

ch. 7

A couple of days have passed, and you found yourself turning up to work much more sluggish than usual. Dark circles clung beneath your eyes, evidence of the sleepless nights that had taken their toll on you. You tried to hide your exhaustion from your mother, but it was becoming harder to do so.

"Y/N, I need you to display the new harvests we've brought this morning," your mother said.

You forced a smile, trying to appear as if you were full of energy, but your weariness was starting to show. "Display the harvests, right away," you replied, dragging your feet as you walked over to where the woven bags of new produce were kept.

Normally, you would have tightened the seal string meticulously to ensure that the bags held all of its contents securely, but this time it slipped your mind. As a result, a couple of cherry clusters spilled out from them, creating a small, unintended mess on the ground.

You silently cursed to yourself, feeling the weight of exhaustion weighing you down. Bending over to pick up the accidental spill, you tried to maintain composure and not let your tiredness show too much.

"What has gotten into you, dear? You're usually so delicate with the wares. Is something the matter?" your mother asked with a concerned tone, noticing the rare lapse in your usual careful handling of the goods.

"Apologies, Mother. I'm just a bit weary today. It won't happen again," you replied, trying to brush it off as a simple mistake.

But you weren't just 'a bit weary', you were utterly exhausted. In truth, you had been staying up late at night, completely engrossed in the book that Clive had thoughtfully gifted you. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge, you had been flipping through numerous pages, trying to feast on the wisdom contained within about dreams and their hidden symbolism. Each passing page offered new insights, and you couldn't help but lose yourself in its depths, even as time ticked away into the early hours of the morning. The allure of the enigmatic knowledge it held kept you wide awake, fueling your desire to understand the recurring nightmares that haunted you.

Through meticulous study, you began to grasp the significance of the recurring element of drowning in your dreams. The ancient texts explained that water often symbolized the realm of emotions and the subconscious, a turbulent sea where thoughts and feelings intertwined. Drowning, you learned, could represent feelings of being overwhelmed, of struggling to keep afloat amidst the torrents of your own mind. The voices that echoed hauntingly in your dreams were also touched upon in the book. The scribes of old believed that voices held a powerful connection to the unseen realms, carrying messages from beyond. While some voices might be benign, others could represent unresolved issues or unspoken truths, yearning to be heard. It was as if the book was shedding light on the dark corners of your subconscious, revealing the hidden meanings behind the puzzling whispers that had tormented your sleep.

"Why did you not say so? The sun will begin to set soon. You may take leave now to rest," your mother told you, her concern evident in her eyes. "The stables remain empty still, so you can go home at ease."

You hesitated for a moment, torn between the sense of duty instilled in you and the sudden overwhelming desire to see Clive. The exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, and while part of you wanted to stay and complete the day's work, a powerful longing to sink into the comfort of your bed tugged at your senses.

"It's alright, my dear. Your health is important before your duties," your mother reassured you, as if sensing your inner conflict.

The truth was, you didn't want to go home to rest; you wanted to see Clive again. You wanted to personally thank him for his unwavering support and for the precious book he had bestowed upon you. The thought of him had brought comfort and solace during your restless nights, and you couldn't ignore the gratitude swelling within you.