312: The distance between them (part 2)

The distance between them (part 2)

Adela let out a deep breath.2

"If you won't allow me time to get dressed, then yes, I'll have no choice but to go out like this, My Lord."

Seeing that she wasn't backing down, he glanced at the window and took a step back, withdrawing his warmth from her hands.

"It's dawn outside. We should at least wait until the sun rises."

That seemed reasonable so she nodded at him, intending to change into her riding clothes and put her hair up. That would take longer than the time he'd suggested. She reached for the sides of her nightgown and started taking it off.

"...I'll go fetch us something to eat before we leave." He muttered.

Her gown dropped to the ground, leaving her in her undergarments. Suppressing her modesty, she allowed him to scrutinize her, wondering if she was overreacting. She wanted to see how he wasn't avoiding her bed and its adjoining bathroom just because she was in the room next to it.

"You've lost weight," was his somber statement.

Though she wasn't fully exposed, hearing that her body didn't seem to meet her husband's current preferences heightened her self-consciousness. Knowing it would upset him, she crossed her arms over her breasts where his gaze had lingered. She wished he would close the distance between them, gently pull her hands away, and tell her how beautiful she was and how much he desired her no matter what she looked like.

Egon cleared his throat and averted his eyes, a reaction opposite to what she expected from her husband. Rejection washed over her, so intense that she resisted the urge to pull her nightgown back up while he was still in the room.

"Take your time," he murmured, seemingly conversing with the wall, and then made his way out.

Why are you doing this to us?

It was painfully evident. Egon was distancing himself from her. He didn't really have to; she had already decided to give him the time he needed. But was it the right decision? Would they be able to bridge this gap once his anger subsided?

He stopped by the door and turned his head to the side, avoiding her gaze.

"Why do you want to go there all of a sudden?" he asked, his voice saturated with frustration as if he had just remembered he needed to know her reasons.

"There's something I want to find." 

"...Something?"

"Yes. I was in the midst of searching for it in my dream."

From now on, Adela was determined to take her dreams more seriously. Judging by her husband's expression and his attentiveness, it appeared he was too.

"Wear long boots, you will find what you need next to my clothes," he turned away and left after that.

***

They stood together at the Eastern entrance of Lanark's Forest, their eyes tracing the piles of ruins of what had once been their beloved home if only for a brief period. The devastation stretched further than just their house; all the three shabby structures that Egon had transformed into beautiful, modern houses were now mere charred skeletons of their former selves.

How long had it been? A week, maybe more?

The air still carried the acrid scent of smoke, and sporadic sparks from the crackling embers briefly illuminated the scene before fading into nothingness. It felt as though her sandcastle had been mercilessly swept away by the relentless waves, just as she feared would happen.

Her connection to this place, their first home together, ran deep. And Aldric had stolen not only her property but also the cherished memories and dreams she had woven within those walls.

It was a searing pain in her heart.

Adela's eyes remained fixed on the ground, her expression a blend of sorrow and disbelief, while Egon's clenched his jaw in silent fury.

His silence, though unsettling, was entirely justified.

Glancing up at him, she could witness the internal struggle in his deep ruby eyes. This place wasn't just a house to him; it was a repository of his childhood memories, the sole reminder in Lanark of his family.

Why did so much sorrow have to accompany her husband?

"I never liked this place." He said, sensing her gaze on him.

Despite his harsh words, there was an emotional quiver in his tone.

"My father... we never had more than what we absolutely needed, but he could have taken her to a better home."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he pointed toward the nearby forest.

"I used to sneak out to fish by the river, building dreams of becoming strong enough to provide for my mother. I wanted to give her a house where she didn't have to exhaust herself cleaning the old, perpetually dull floor."

His façade wavered, his entire countenance momentarily crumbling before he hastily reassembled it and looked down at Adela.

"She never once complained. Her voice would fill the house, making the bitter cold more bearable... On days when she sensed I was shivering, she'd bring me wool instead of bread and craft a scarf for me by morning."

Tears streamed down Adela's cheeks; it was the first time he had spoken about his mother so descriptively in her presence.

"When I returned to Lanark to avenge them, I could hear her voice here, echoing as if she were singing while tending to her chores. It felt like her spirit lingered... I resolved to build a place worthy of her and then... And then I came here whenever I could to ensure she wasn't alone."

Unable to hold herself back, Adela enveloped her husband in a tight embrace, clutching onto him as if her life depended on it.

"This is a painful moment for you, Egon. But it's not the walls that make a home; it's the people who live with you and the memories you create within them. We will rebuild our home, stronger than before, and create new and happy memories."

He stiffened.

"Rebuild it?" He shook his head once, twice, three times. "No... I'm relieved it's gone. I hope her spirit can finally find peace, far away from this place."

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