YOUR DEMEANOUR

Chapter 19: Curiosity

Calliax sat behind his desk, his posture rigid, his expression stern as he sifted through a stack of reports. Rowan, his trusted assistant, stood nearby, awaiting his orders. The room was quiet except for the occasional scratch of Calliax's pen against the paper. After a moment of silence, Calliax glanced up at Rowan, his gaze piercing. 

As Colonel Calliax's stern gaze fell upon Rowan, the latter couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at the question that escaped the lips of his typically reserved commander.

"Rowan, you're married, am I right?" Calliax inquired, his voice carrying an unusual note of curiosity.

Rowan's brows furrowed slightly in confusion before he quickly composed himself. "Uh, yes, sir. I am," he confirmed, his response punctuated by a subtle shift in his demeanour.

The Colonel's next question caught Rowan off guard, prompting a moment of hesitation before he replied, "Well, sir, it's... uh, it's a unique experience."

A brief nod from Calliax acknowledged Rowan's response before he dismissed him with a curt, "Thank you, Rowan. That'll be all."

With a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, Rowan offered a respectful nod in return. "Of course, sir. Have a good day," he replied, the corners of his lips twitching with the effort to contain his laughter.

Exiting the Colonel's office, Rowan couldn't suppress a chuckle as he reflected on the unexpected exchange with his typically stoic superior.

As Rowan left the room, Calliax couldn't shake off the lingering curiosity sparked by their brief conversation. His thoughts swirled as he mulled over Rowan's response.

"Unique experience, huh?" Calliax muttered to himself, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered the implications of those words.

He couldn't deny a tinge of envy at the thought of the camaraderie and support that marriage seemed to offer, a stark contrast to the solitary path he had chosen as a soldier.

"It must be quite something," Calliax murmured, a faint hint of wistfulness colouring his typically stoic features.

However, any further contemplation was swiftly pushed aside as duty beckoned once more, and Calliax refocused his attention on the tasks at hand, leaving the notion of marriage lingering in the recesses of his mind for another time.

In the midst of his contemplation, a familiar face infiltrated Calliax's thoughts, unwelcome yet undeniable. Averyn, with her bright eyes and determined spirit, seemed to materialize before him, her presence lingering like a haunting whisper in the recesses of his mind.

The image of her face, etched with concern and sincerity, stirred something within him, a strange mixture of longing and hesitation that he couldn't quite articulate. Despite his best efforts to remain focused on the matter at hand, Averyn's image persisted, refusing to be cast aside.

Calliax found himself momentarily captivated by the memory of their interactions, the way her presence had managed to pierce through his stoic facade and evoke emotions he had long suppressed.