Author's Note: Hey, all! Wow, it's been awhile since I updated this story. College and life hit me like a truckload of bricks. In any case, hello, I'm back, this chapter's mine, and I still don't own the play.
God, but she wouldbe the death of him. Even now, she rent his very soul asunder with her behavior. Such cheer, such light-hearted playfulness, such levity...it was uncharacteristic of Emilia, nearly unbecoming, and yet he found he did not mind overmuch, in his heart of hearts, even as her fond, amused tone grated on his nerves.
She was mocking him, perhaps...as far as he knew, Emilia was not ordinarily disposed towards such lively banter...at least, not where he was concerned... Yet the sparkle in her eye was not at all feigned; nor was the bright smile that graced her sculpted features any sort of farce, as it might have been upon his own face. She was genuinely pleased...though her reasons for being such were beyond him at present. Still, if she wished to tease him...
"I do deny it, for I certain such a sound never passed from my lips," he replied shortly, and immediately winced at his abrupt tone. Had he not just admitted (to himself, but no matter) that he wished not for conflict, just as much as his wife? What did it matter that her behavior was singularly frivolous? It had irked him earlier, to be sure, but now...was it really worth his (equally anomalous) rage? What was wrong with him, that he continued to treat her harshly, when he was now angrier with himself than he was with her?