268: Pillow talk

Pillow talk

Adela sighed; her fatigue palpable on her face. Her husband, however, appeared untouched by the lack of sleep, his energy seemingly drawn from what got her exhausted in the first place.2

It was a little unfair.

As they went about the process of drying themselves with the towels Egon brought for the two of them, her olive-green eyes met his deep brown ones, she barely managed to give him a small smile while his smile dazzled her – another palpable proof of her exhaustion and his undiminished vitality.

"Come here."

He reached out and held her close, and she leaned into him, a subtle strength emanating from his touch, he pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

"I will carry you back to bed."

She did not mind that at all.

Egon carried her across the corridor and then inside their room towards their bed. He laid her down, tucking the covers around her.

"Only a few hours of rest, and then the world beyond will begin making its demands."

She gave him a knowing smile; there was no evading the certainty that the Archduchess would send someone soon.

He lingered beside her, his fingertips lightly grazing her cheek.

"Close your eyes," he suggested, his voice soft.

Perhaps it was her sleep-deprived mind, but an ominous foreboding tightened its grip on her heart—an unexplainable fear of losing her husband. She caught his wrist, holding it in a determined grip.

"We need to talk," she murmured, a sense of urgency in her tone.

A faint frown creased his brow, but he eventually nodded.

"...To what extent did Uncle Leopold disclose the events in the Archduke's study? The identity of the murderer...I mean."

"In short? Everything." he paused, twirling a strand of her long hair between his fingers. "I was aware of the schemes against Emanuel. I chose to maintain a distant watch, to safeguard you, but his passing truly blindsided me." He regarded her with an inquisitive look. "Do you believe that Claude de Lanark is responsible, or are you aligning with the Archduke's perspective?"

"That's precisely why I spoke with Claude. I needed to be absolutely certain." She moistened her lips. "I am one hundred percent sure now about who took the King's life."

Egon's countenance assumed a mask of artificial calmness, "Continue."

"...Bastian should distance himself from His Holiness, Aldric of Varinthia."

"The warlock."

Again, he uttered the words with an eerie calm that made the hairs on her hand stand on end.

She shifted her position, settling herself into a seated stance that mirrored his own.

"Claude mentioned that the King's blade found his heart seemingly on its own, and he spoke of a figure standing by the window, their eyes the color of midnight... Considering Aldric's ability to manipulate the elements around him and his distorted notion of twisted protection towards me, I've arrived at the conclusion that he might be the one responsible for the King's murder... I did not share this with anyone yet, not even Claude."

"...I see." He mumbled, his mind elsewhere already.

"Egon, I am genuinely worried about Bastian. Aldric... He's dangerous."

She hesitated, caught in a moment of deliberation. The memory of the dungeon, where Bastian had given her the cold shoulder, hovered on the edge of her thoughts. However, she held back, considerate of Egon's protective nature towards his brother, not wishing to drive a wedge between them.

A quiet unease gnawed at her. Was she making the right choice?

"Adela, promise me you won't interact with Aldric any further."

She regarded him steadily. "What about your partnership with him through the Industrial Zone between Lanark and Latora?"

His eyes hardened, "I'm putting an end to it. Regardless of the financial implications or the advantages I might forfeit, it's not worth it. I refuse to tie our fate to that devil."

Adela clenched her hand, her fingers forming a fist. "My father must have come to similar conclusions... Is the Archduke prioritizing the Kingdom's interests by not directly addressing Aldric's actions, or is there more to it?"

Egon's smile held a note of pride. "I have a wife of remarkable intelligence, don't I?" His countenance shifted back to seriousness, "The Archduke and the Archduchess were very close with Aldric's mother. There are debts from the past and entanglements that run deep. But know this, Adela, it changes nothing for us. I simply don't want you near Aldric. I'll find a way to ensure he's removed from Lanark for good."

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, her eyes closed, drawing strength from his embrace.

"Let's not dwell on him any further," his words brushed against her ear, soft and comforting. "If anything I've said or done tonight caused you any discomfort, I apologize. It was never my intention. Please understand... I desired you to experience pure pleasure before acquainting yourself with the one that comes with some amount of pain."

"...You were incredibly gentle with me."

As her body pressed against his, it trembled slightly in tandem with his boyish chuckle.

"Well then, maybe a trace of rationality still lingers somewhere within me."

She smiled against his neck, "It does."

"Adelaide, will you always have faith in me?"

Her smile faded, and she shut her eyes tightly. "Absolutely, I will."

He sighed, the warmth of his breath brushing her neck and bare shoulders.

"Get some rest."

"I will, as long as you lie down beside me."

He drew her even closer against his chest, reclining as their bodies, swathed only in soft towels, entwined. It was as if neither could bear to retreat, both wanting their contact to continue, even in slumber.

Her heart swelled as his light snoring filled the air.

Perhaps he was just as fatigued as I was.

Snuggling even closer beside him, she breathed in his genuine fragrance of pine and Lanark's summertime. She shut her eyes, surrendering to a peaceful sleep devoid of dreams, one that would soon be disrupted by the outside world.

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