NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1: Duke of Rogethen
"Wife." The hand on her wrist is firm, her husband's intentions clear as day. Nothing is as clear as the look on his face, however. Hesitation and, if she has the heart to think harder about it, disappointment. "Don't bother with it. I'm no longer in the mood."
She swallows the lump in her throat, a thousand panic-inducing thoughts rushing through her mind like a hurricane.
Did she say something hurtful? Did she look strange in her sleeping garments? Worst of all,
Was her husband no longer attracted to her?
No, that can't be it.
"Oh, okay." Sophie tries to pry her wrist out of her husband's hold. It takes a striking amount of effort for him to notice her struggle.
He releases her from his heated grip, but his forest-green eyes remain dull, his mouth stuck on an unhappy line.
The sight sets off a foul feeling down Sophie's stomach.
"We can sleep instead. Would you like to hold each other?" She finds herself extremely grateful that tomorrow is the beginning of a weekend. That means less load for the overworked Duke of Rogethen and more time to bond with her beloved.
Having to voice initiative, especially when it comes to affection, is unusual in their marriage, an unnatural act.
On a usual day, Luke is already on his wife the moment she touches the soft cushions of their bed, wrapping his long limbs around her body protectively, like a clingy koala to its favorite tree.
He's never been affectionate with his words, and "I love you too" scarcely leaves his mouth, but his actions conveyed what he feels well enough.
Looking back, Sophie realizes that he hasn't voiced his desire for around five months now, not since the conflict about the crown's succession came to light.
Luke has gotten caught up in the affairs of the royal family. He's one of the few nobles who are reliable, trusted and respected by the king and queen themselves.
Sophie offers her care and support from a safe distance, handling their estate the best she can. So it can't be that he's frustrated at her for contributing nothing, right? She's doing her best as his wife.
"I'd rather not." Luke grunts, moving away from Sophie's place in the bed to retrieve his clothes from the floor.
"Why?" Sophie asks, helplessness and dejection potent in her voice.
Desperation is uncharacteristic of her, preferring to play the role of the obedient wife, but she needs to know what she had done to warrant her husband's displeasure.
Luke stays unmoving for a moment, staring hard at the bedroom wall to avoid his wife's frantic gaze. Even in the dimly lit space, he looks perfect and perfectly untouchable, back sculpted by cherubs who longed to create a figure worthy of divinity.
Eventually, he acknowledges her question with a shrug, and gets up to walk towards the door.
"I'm not feeling it. That's all."
The look on her husband's face was chillier than the moonlight seeping into their room through the glass windows.
Sophie sits alone on a bed too large for her singular frame, hands shaking as she tries to deny the humiliation creeping into her chest.
Sure, she arrived later than usual, having to make a stop at the nearby woods to handpick her husband's favorite flowers, but it isn't like she's been neglectful.
Despite already having to juggle so many responsibilities, handling matters of the household while her husband managed wars and political conflicts, she made a genuine effort for their anniversary night, dressing alluringly while her husband had his bath.
She foolishly thought her wedding anniversary would be spent like her last one, full of passion and pure, unadulterated need for one another's touch, uncaring of what they'd break in their pursuits.
But this....
They love each other. Back then, they could barely sit still without the other's presence, despite being married for four whole years. Surely, that love still exists.
At least, that's what Sophie is telling herself.
Burying her anxiety in an ocean of denial is the only viable way to cope. After all, the Duke promised that they would talk it out if anything were to happen between them.
Why hasn't her husband opened up? Did Sophie do something unforgivable to deserve this treatment? Were the flowers not to his liking?
She observes the way a lone petal falls from the bundle. It'd been ignored by Luke entirely. She only realizes in the deafening silence how out of it her husband was during supper.
Unable to acknowledge the tears streaming down her face, she drapes their shared blanket over her body, wanting to sleep away the heinous feelings coiling in her gut.
When her husband returns hours later from who knows where, he fails to notice the sadness imprinted on her face or, at least, he pretends not to notice.
Sophie pretends not to notice too.