He was Almost Absorbed by the System

Chapter One Hundred And Fifty Eight - All Thoughts Of Love

When S'vel-hen entered the kitchen area of their home, she found a despondent O'vel-win half lying upon the table. Her third son's head was resting upon his crossed arms which in return rested upon the thick wood. His warm eyes looked distant and in deep, but saddened thought. As was her first instinct, she rushed to his side.

"Son, what is wrong?" She asked, a million worries flying through her mind; was he sick? Was his job on the line? What he said next was nothing like what she armoured herself to hear.

"I think I am in love," he said, with so much angst one would have thought that the world was nearing its end.

S'vel-hen blinked a few times and asked him to repeat his words, which he did so and these were equally as weighted down in his tone. "I don't understand," she said, finally. "What is wrong about being in love? Is this not a good thing?"

"No," he insisted, sadly. "Loving that person is not fruitful."

Ah, S'vel-hen thought, so the young lady in question was considered unreachable to him. This could only mean, S'vel-hen thought, that the family of the young woman was of much higher standing and would never approve of their daughter marrying her son. She sighed, believing this to be due to his chosen career as their family, while not wealthy, were considered very respectable as they dealt with the creation, care and teaching of books. "If this person's family cannot see what you offer," she said, warmly, "then it is their loss."

"It is not a case of their family being a problem," he sighed, lifting himself from the table to look at her. "Although I doubt they would approve."

"It's not?" S'vel-hen questioned, unable to think of what other obstacles could be standing in the way of her son finding happiness with the person he had fallen for. "But then what is it? Why can you not be together?"

His expression turned slightly pained and he looked down at the table and began scratching along the grain as if finding it fascinating in that moment. "Will you promise not to hate me?" He asked, the pleading note in his voice worrying her greatly. In the end, she could only nod. He was her son, why would he ever think she had the capability to hate him? "That person... that person is a man."

Her heart felt as if it had faltered in her chest and her blood felt frozen. She was shocked by his revelation and couldn't help but question it. "Are you sure what you feel is love and not maybe admiration?" She asked, her mind whirling with thoughts. It was not unheard of for a man to be married to another man; such was usually performed for reasons such as connecting families when there were no women born or because one man was dying and a widowed man would find it easier to find another bride than a widowed woman finding a new husband. But those marriages were never about love, love was between a man and a woman... wasn't it?

She glanced at her son's pitiful face and thought about what he had begged her, but no matter what, she really did not hate him. She was just confused for him.

"Admiration..." O'vel-win murmured to himself. "I did admire him," he admitted after a moment. "He is only my age, yet he is the head of his family. He puts them first each and every time, even bending the boundaries of tradition to ensure not only their survival, but that his little sister's future path is more open. He works hard, but not only that he clearly loves his work. Yes, maybe you are right, mom." His conflicted expression became clear, but S'vel-hen felt nothing but guilt. She had seen the softness of her son's eyes as he described that person, heard the warmth of his words and knew; his feelings were definitely not as simple as admiration.

"Admiration makes clear sense," O'vel-win repeated, ignoring the pain in his chest and burying it down. "I must be confused and lonelier than I realised. Perhaps I should try to find a wife, then the confusion will be completely cleared away, don't you think? Will you help me, mom?"