The Clash of Urush

Chapter 3

As I stood in our bedroom, I watched as my wife removed her earrings with slow, but rigid movements. Her body showed some semblance of almost quivering, as she stared at a single point on her mirror. A point not along the reflective surface, but somewhere slightly off the corner of the mirror's golden frame. As much as she was trying to be as gentle as possible, the sound of the metal brushing against the wooden surface was slightly louder than usual when she placed them down. From the reflective glass I could see her eyebrows furrow as she resisted making any sort of eye contact. Instead, her eyes gradually remained transfixed on her appearance as she continued to remove the pieces of jewelry. Her lips were pursing, as she wasn't sure to pout or allow the rest of her face to show her anger. She rid herself from all those gold pieces adorned with fine emerald jewels, leaving nothing to decorate her bare skin. She was a fair individual, yet in this moment there was a flush of red in her cheeks. Her usually serene eyes that rivalled the calm ocean held a burning fire within that I knew would soon consume me whole.

With what I had done hours back, I prepared myself for her to turn back to scold me for my "foolishness." She was not one to raise her voice, but I couldn't help but hope the maids were far away so they would not have to hear her yell with rage. Nevertheless, Diona did not turn back. She stared downward at the table, almost to study the jewelry she had just removed and all their intricate parts. I could only assume her mind was flooded with thoughts and questions which she was desperately trying to organize before she could speak. I watched her lips open a bit, as if she was mouthing some sort of prayer to ask for patience in a moment when hers was close to running out.

"Why did you make that proposition?" she asked me, still gazing down at the table.

The bluntness in her voice urged me to remain where I was standing. For a few seconds, I hesitated, not sure how to respond to her question, let alone how to defend my answer. There was no way I could lie to her. After all those years of marriage, she knew all my tells, what every action, gesture and reaction could mean. And so, I tried my best to be truthful, as well as reasonable, hoping my honesty would not provoke her. I needed her to understand the reasoning behind my actions, even if they seemed irrational and most probably, stupid.

"We both know that boy is too young to fight out there. He also has many responsibilities to his home. I could not watch as he abandoned his family during their time of need."

"I had no problem with you stepping in. In fact, I am grateful you stood up for the child. Yet, I cannot believe you would put your reputation at risk on a promise you can't keep. Your outburst could most definately lead you to sacrifice your life."

"What makes you think I can't keep my promise?"

Following those words, she slammed her hand against the table, allowing the sound to be loud enough to render me silent. She spun around in her chair and marched towards me. I was more than a head taller than her, but that didn't stop her glare from making me feel small. Her hands were curled up into a fist on either side of her body as she tried to control herself.

"Tyrus, you have seldom ventured outside of these walls during your time as my husband. You have no connections outside this castle."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Then why put your life on the line?"

Her voice was firm enough that I could almost feel it tightly surrounding me as if to squeeze the truth out of me. She had a way with her actions and words. A part of me regretted doing what I did because I couldn't bear to see her hurting inside, but I knew if I didn't do what I did, I would resent myself for decades to come.

"Because I want to honour my parents," I replied. "I want to leave behind a legacy worth remembering for generations to come."

"What are you talking about?" she stepped back, looking at me as if I lost my mind. "You are my husband, shouldn't that be enough. You don't need to go to war to be worth remembering."