AN: I think it might be a good time to point out that this piece is being published in its raw form. I...really ought to go back and edit some things, but that's a task for another day.

Disclaimer: ...I'm just going to stop putting one in. You lot all know this master work isn't mine.

She was hiding something. That, he knew; it was blatantly obvious in the slight tensing of her shoulders, the way her lips trembled slightly, even as her bright eyes met his own unflinchingly. She was afraid, he thought...ashamed, perhaps, and he realized at once that she was fully cognizant of her foolish flight of fancy...repentant, even...doubtful as that was.

The thought did little to sooth his piqued temper, but he tamped down the stirrings of dark, restless rage for now; if Emilia realized and regretted her misstep, he had little cause to punish her for the transgression. Making her admit to the momentary inanity would be satisfaction enough...

"I do well enough," he replied, forcing a civil tone as he unbuckled his sword belt, although he could muster neither the energy nor the patience to bring a convincing smile to his lips. "And you? How have you spent your day, wife, hm?"

Regrettably, even the simple act of speaking to his wife seemed to drain the earlier fury from him, but he willed it to remain for conscience's sake. Here was as good a place as any to vent the frustrations of the day, and if Emilia gave him a legitimate excuse to do so...so much the better.