Maxi was curled in the large armchair by the fire, a heavy tome on mythical flora open on her lap. She was not reading it. Her eyes were fixed on the dancing flames, her brow furrowed. She wore a simple woolen dress, a far cry from the silks of Croix Castle, but on her, it looked like a queen's regalia. When she heard his boots, she flinched—a tiny, almost imperceptible jerk—and her hands flew to smooth her hair.
He turned and walked into the library.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaustion pulling at his limbs. The day had been brutal. A patrol had been ambushed by monstrous orcs from the Dragon’s Grave Pass. Three men dead. He had spent the afternoon burying them, his hands blistered from the shovel. All he wanted was to collapse. But more than that, he wanted to touch her. Just a brush of his fingers against her cheek. Just to feel her warmth. Under The Oak Tree Manga
"R-Riftan," she said, her voice a soft, scratchy whisper. "Y-you are l-late." Maxi was curled in the large armchair by
That was the moment something inside him snapped. Not with anger, but with a desperate, hollow ache. He was failing. He was so terrified of breaking her that he was starving them both. He had built a cage of courtesy around her, and she was wilting inside it. She wore a simple woolen dress, a far
A sob escaped her, but it was a laugh, too—a wet, beautiful sound. And then, she did something that undid him completely. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead.
He pulled back to look at her. Her silver hair was fanned out on the pillow, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with a mixture of fear and fierce determination. She was not the trembling girl from their wedding night. She was his wife. His partner. His equal.