Not Even A Distance

008

"Get some rest, darling," she tells you, looking at the exhaustion in your eyes. "You look exhausted."

You nod, feeling the weariness settle into your bones. "I think I will," you say, stifling a yawn.

With a final squeeze, your mother releases you from the hug. "Sleep well," she says, a warm smile on her face.

You bid her goodnight and head towards your room, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to you.

The next day, the morning sun filters through the window, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. You wake up slowly, memories of the previous day slowly seeping into your consciousness.

You lie in bed for a moment, letting the events of yesterday play out in your mind before rising with a sigh.

Meanwhile at the castle, the Duke also awakens to the morning sun. The events of the prior day are still fresh in his mind, the exhaustion weighing on him.

He rises from his bed slowly, wincing slightly as his body protests the movement. He glances around the room, his thoughts a whirlwind.

Jake runs a hand through his tousled hair, his mind a mess of thoughts and emotions. He walks over to the window, pulling back the curtains to look out at the sun-drenched countryside.

The events of the previous day, the conflict with the rebels, your assistance, all of it swirled through his mind like a storm.

He leans against the windowsill, his fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against the wood. He thinks about you, the image of you helping him into the carriage replaying in his mind.

The Duke pushes himself away from the windowsill, forcing himself back to the present. He knows he has duties to attend to, responsibilities to manage, but he can't get you out of his head.

He walks over to the bureau, where a stack of messages and documents await his attention.

The Duke picks up a message from the top of the stack, trying to focus. But the words seem to blur together, the letters forming meaningless shapes.

He scowls, annoyed with himself for being unable to concentrate. It's unusual for him to be so distracted, but you seem to have wormed your way into his thoughts.

The Duke tosses the message down, frustration evident on his face. He paces the length of the room, his thoughts still spinning.

He tells himself he should be focusing on the documents, on the needs of his estate and his people.

"Focus, damn it," he mutters to himself, his scowl deepening. "You have duties, responsibilities. You're a Duke, for God's sake, not some lovestruck boy."

Few minutes, Jake finally can't stand it anymore. The room suddenly seems too small. He strides to the door, throwing it open and stepping out into the hallway. The servants outside give him a wide-eyed look, unused to seeing him in such a state.

He then heads towards the gardens, the air in the castle suddenly stifling. He needs fresh air, space to think.

The Duke steps out into the garden, the cool air a balm on his heated skin. He walks along the path, his footsteps crunching on the gravel.

Suddenly, the question of your feelings plagues him. He tries to dismiss the thought, but it nags at him. Do you feel the same way about him that he does for you? The uncertainty gnaws at him like a persistent ache.

"Mother, I will be at church!" You shouted from the hallway of the house.

You make your way down the hallway towards the front door. Your mother, who had been in the sitting room, appears.