Love, Honour and Obey

Chapter 12

Nyathena

Nyathena caught Caleb's wrist before he was able to push the door open. He paused, hovering to admit them. Gently, she guided him to face her. She toyed with his cravat, straightening it.

"Don't let your previous introduction to my husband sour your thoughts on him. He is a good man, be your usual charming self and everything will be fine."

He wasn't entirely sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. But he nodded in agreement all the same.

Nyathena patted him affectionately on the chest, as she released his wrist he turned back to face the man who was lucky enough to call his Mistress his wife.

The heavy oak doors of the dining hall swung open, and Caleb's heart pounded in his chest as he stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to Lord Alphonzo Chelchester seated at the head of the table, the man's steely gaze piercing through the candlelit room.

Alphonzo purposefully eyed the mantle clock. "You're late."

Nyathna gave a small shrug of her shoulders, "We had an emergency,"

"With the accounts?" Alphonzo asked.

Nyathena glided across the room, ignoring the snide manner in which her husband spoke. "Just a minor miscalculation, nothing we couldn't fix."

She hovered behind the chair, waiting patiently. Alphonzo was too slow to rise, and Caleb was beside her in a heartbeat, pulling her chair out for her. "Thank you," she encouraged and indicated a chair across the table from her so that the three of them could sit close to one another.

Plates of food were already served, being kept warm beneath cloches. Alphonzo pulled the cork from a bottle and poured each of them a glass of ruby wine. Nyathena picked it up and raised it in her husband's direction; toasting him.

As she revealed the food, steam and scent filled her nose, making her mouth water. She hadn't realised she was so hungry, the ordeal of the afternoon had stolen her appetite.

"How was your day?" She asked, picking up the appropriate cutlery.

"I spent most of it penning letters," Alphonzo replied with a dramatic sigh. "Changes are swiftly happening Nyathena and I would rather you hear it from me first."

She didn't want to listen. Whatever he had to say was going to upset her and their relationship was in enough tatters as it was.

To her surprise, Alphonzo turned to Caleb and asked, "What are your opinions on the Flesh Markets?"

Nyathena's eyes flicked towards Caleb, silently urging him to respond honestly while trying to conceal her apprehension. His brief nod and the faint softening of his panicked expression reassured her somewhat.

"They're horrible," Caleb announced, his voice steady but laced with a hint of conflict.

Nyathena felt a pang of discomfort at his words. The Markets were not just her livelihood; they were the foundation upon which their entire lifestyle rested. The profits from her trade sustained their estate, paid the staff, and ensured their comfort in a world that often offered little to those without power or privilege.

Caleb continued, his tone becoming more reflective. "But, they also saved my life. Without them, I would have died on the streets of Miracien. Being an heir to a disgraced family name isn't a forgiving situation to be in. What would the offices of Miracien do to help a man in my position? Nothing. I had little choice, but at least I had the option of the Markets."