Chap. 20
The early morning sun rose like a massive yellow penny in the sky and bid the fair moon a hearty goodbye, promising to wake her in time for her nightly vigil. With a brief inclination of her dark head, she swiftly withdrew to her bedchamber as her husband watched her leave mournfully with yearning. The two lovers were only able to meet briefly during the small interval between day and night. The sun shook his proud head and, turning to do his duty, he sent shafts of brilliant sunlight, full of grace, light, and heat, to the mortals below. How beautiful his moon would look, dressed in his golden splendor, he mused, and as he looked down, he found his eyes caught by a young woman who reminded him of his wife in her beauty and grace-well…as much as a mortal could.
Tomoyo entered the tastefully decorated study, which had formerly been her favorite room in the entire estate-she always used to sit, curled in her favorite chair, reading a book, perhaps, or working on her own documents of the storage inventory. Most of all, she had loved to gaze upon his face while he was working; he liked doing this sort of thing even though he had enough wealth to last him decades. "It's soothing," he had told her once, and while he worked, he would glance up to find her there and shoot her an occasional, dazzling smile that could still effectively make her go weak at the knees and smile back in what she thought was a foolish-and dreamy-manner.
That was then. This was now, and everything had been drastically altered for the worst. Her fairy tale life, which she thought had been too good to last, had been torn apart as she had pragmatically-and pessimistically-predicted.
The atmosphere that had been so warm and cheery around the estate had become strained and dismal as the duke and the duchess's mood changed. The mansion also seemed to change back into a dark, melancholy place, cold and empty and forbidding; it seemed to have sensed its master's change of heart to a frightened observer who had known better times. Its halls and corridors that had rung with laughter and joy lay dormant, echoing, in a mocking manner, past memories and hopes, which drifted aimlessly in bloodied tatters. The servants spoke in wary, hushed whispers, afraid to break the lengthy silence that weighed upon them heavily.
The dowager duchess of Clynester wasn't present to smooth the grey storm that was surrounding Clynester. She was gone; she had left shortly after the wedding, bestowing upon her son and his wife several kisses, tears, and good wishes. And why should she have not? She had seen with her own two eyes that Tomoyo and Eriol had been perfectly happy together.
The couple had made it a point to ignore each other-Tomoyo because she was adamant in her decision that she only needed to give him time and her unconditional trust, and Eriol because he felt pain and betrayal (not to mention love) when he looked upon her features and felt, oddly in his opinion, guilty about this whole business. When one entered a room, the other left quietly. Both avoided the places that each frequented. When they ate, they did so in separate rooms or at opposite ends of the massive table where they carefully looked away in opposite directions or at their food. They slept in separate bedrooms at opposite ends of the mansion. And they never really had any sort of confrontation-indirectly or directly-of any kind. That is, until yesterday.
She had been in the library, searching for something else to read; she'd finished reading the last book she had taken to her room before. Stacking up all the books she had been returning to the Clynester private library neatly-she wanted to aid the tiny librarian as much as possible-she had walked over to the fiction section that she always went to. She had also asked a passing maid for tea; she intended to spend the rest of the afternoon quietly reading.
What she had planned to be a simple activity of enjoyment didn't turn out to be exactly what she expected. The maid, promptly bringing a tray of tea, cakes, and crumpets, tripped over the small librarian, who had been sorting all the returned books in a gleeful frenzy-and crashed into Tomoyo. What happened was the domino effect. Tomoyo, in turn, went flying and crashed into a startled Eriol who had been planning the same sort of quiet "entertainment" in the library. Automatically, his arms went around her waist protectively as they both fell to the floor in a tangled heap of entwined arms and legs.
She had been able to feel every inch of his body on hers, and by the grim, uncompromising line on his face, he had a similar experience. After roughly helping her up, he left in what looked like-if she didn't know better-a rather hasty manner. That night, she heard from one of the servants that he had skipped dinner and indulged in a drunken orgy where he had drunk himself to oblivion.
Which led to the reason why she was here, entering her husband's study that she hadn't come into since the day he had returned from somewhere, looking absolutely grim. She looked around the room with tears in her eyes as she noted the familiarity of the comfortable chairs and his clean scent that lingered in the air.
"What are you doing here?" a hoarse voice demanded angrily. She turned to stare into twin blue coals of fire that burned with a strange light. His hair was disheveled and in chaotic disorder. Despite all that, he had managed to look perfectly composed and unbearable handsome in appearance. "Answer my question!" he snapped.
Her hands locked themselves together tightly to keep the telltale shaking from being seen. "I heard that you drank yesterday and didn't have dinner. I just came to see if you were alright and, perhaps, force you to eat something-"
"I don't need your damned help. Why don't you just walk out that door and leave me alone?" he interrupted her in a menacing voice. "Don't you know that I absolutely despise your presence? No, that's too weak. I abhor it!"
Her violet eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but her chin went up an inch. "Well, pardon me, your grace, for being concerned with seeing if you were alright. Apparently, it is an unforgivable mistake!"
"You're damned right it is! Now get out!" His eyes flashed dangerously, alerting her to the fact that he was willing to use force to get what he wanted.
Her temper flared. She had more than patiently waited for him to have some time alone. She had trusted him to make the correct decision whatever the problem was, and she had respected the fact that it was probably his own business and was careful not to pry. Instead of being grateful, the man was throwing it all in her face and making it sound like it was all her fault! "What in hell in wrong with you? It's not like it's my fault; I didn't do anything! There's no need to take it out on me!"
"Oh, isn't there?" he said with a sardonic smile. "I know about your secrets, my dear wife, and the guests you entertain most intimately."
She was puzzled. What guests? The only people who had come by were some female acquaintances she had come to know in the ton. Why he should make such a fuss over that was beyond her. "I don't see why that should upset you."
"Don't you?" His eyebrow quirked upwards in a mocking and condescending manner.
"No, I don't. Perhaps you would like to clarify it for me. I've only had a couple of friends come to visit and all of them were females. There's not even a guy for you to be jealous about!"
His lips captured hers in a brutal, bruising kiss. When he finished, he whispered lovingly into her ear, "Such a liar-a liar to the last. These lips,"-he touched her lips with gentle fingers-"were corrupted by others. This face,"-he trailed a hand sensuously down her visage-"has been deceitful and sullied by forbidden hands." He turned away, moving to his desk, and waved a careless hand in his dismissal of her.
"Go. Stay out of here. I don't want to see your face, do you understand?"
She didn't budge. "No, actually I don't. Eriol, love, I don't know what you've heard about me. Before today, I didn't even know it was about me, and I don't know what you're talking about." She walked toward him with arms open in appeal, and she stood in front of him until he was forced to look at her. "But I'm sorry for whatever it is I did or didn't do…because I can see that it's hurting you so much." She reached out with one hand and cupped his face. He flinched, but didn't draw away. "Can't you love me? Just a little? Just one more time?" she asked in reminiscence of his words to her when he was trying to convince her that the scene she had seen with Katherine wasn't true.
"Get out of here," he said hoarsely, and he pushed her out the door and slammed it shut. Burying his head in his hands, he leaned against the door and let a tear spill down his face; the duke cried like a child for the second time in his life.
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So sorry. Was very lazy before. Will update when I have time.