A/N: Call me Nurse Genavere! My husband had surgery a week ago that has left him pretty much bedridden and not able to do much, so I have been taking care of everything around the house, working, and caring for him now. It has left me dealing with my regular exhaustion and the additional one from the additional work and intermediate waking up to ensure everything is done. I have been writing as I can when I am not sleeping or in a place where I can focus on it for longer than ten minutes.
Sorry for the delays, but I will keep updating!
Chapter Fourteen
By Genavere
As a child, it had been hard to read people. Adults wore different faces when dealing with children, and even those her age would act out differently depending on what they saw around them.
As she grew older and hid under the umbrella, her eyes stayed lowered and she never had to worry about reading people unless it truly mattered.
After the worlds connected and she found herself, Yumemi knew that it was a talent she needed to familiarize herself with, especially if the possibility of a relationship with Munto blossomed. By reading and watching people, she had been able to learn how to read those around her. It helped during meetings and political dinners.
It helped as their relationship grew deeper and she was able to find his ticks. There were always the ones that sent a heat to her core, those were usually the easiest to notice, and if she happened not to, she would. Then there were the ones when he was angry or upset. Even the slight signs of happiness had been noted and memorized. They helped to bring them closer, since he learned her own non-verbal language just as quickly.
Never had she thought that she would regret being able to read those around her, but now she found the true ache of it.
Almost a week had gone by since she had woken up and each tick spoke volumes to her. A shift of the eyes here, an eyebrow twitching at a question, the hesitant voices that would skirt around answering certain questions. While Shuza and his assistant nurse had been harder to read, Munto had not.
From him, without any verbal confirmation, she had learned the truth.
Her womb was empty.
None of it surprised her, not as she felt the pain of trying to walk again without the surge of Akuto she had before. The enflamed skin around new scars from the needles on each of her limbs, or the angry looking skin on her cheek. That would also scar, she knew, but she kept it hidden under a bandage after she saw how it affected her husband.
Neither of them were ready for that wanton display of their loss yet.
The stab wound and her muscles were the wounds that took the longest physically for her to heal from. Until Shuza had actually discussed her injuries, she had not realized how bad it had been, or how close she had come to dying.
After hearing everything, how could she blame her body for doing what it needed to survive?
Munto refused to leave her side, unless pressing matters that Rui could not handle alone came up. Otherwise, he was there at all times of the day and night. Any reports were brought directly to him and he read them either on the chair prepped by the bed or on his side of the bed while holding her hand.
His devotion should have warmed her heart.
No matter the task, he was there to help her. Whether it was changing her bandages, standing back for the nurse or Shuza to check her over, helping her to walk to the bathroom to relieve herself…she made the smallest noise and he was there.
Yet, it did nothing to help the growing anger. Each day, the heat inside of her grew and the frustration had no where to go. No one would say anything. They danced around the question while they tells told the whole story.
After a week, she had had enough.
Seated in a chair designed specifically to help her recover, she stared out over the balcony as the sun began to set. Munto fretted behind her, she knew, as she could hear him. The tapping of his fingers, the steps he made with each pace he made, the near silent sighs. He was waiting for her to say she wanted to come inside, that she had enough fresh air. That she was ready to stop risking herself in the colder night air and the open skies.
Feeling the muscles of her brow twitch, the heat in her chest boiling up, she finally had enough. "Munto," her voice, usually soft and light with him, was curt and forced. "Enough. I am not a child for you to mother, and I know it is only me on this balcony."
Silence stretched between them. There were no more tapping or pacing, but her heart rose in her throat and consumed her hearing. If he said anything, she would not know.
"My family and friends never received the news of—" Her throat constricted. "They never received the news. I want none of them to know of it now. The people, however…they need to be told."
"Yumemi."
She recognized that tone. While he might disapprove of what she said, there were no doubts in her mind that he would argue. Not right now. And if he did…she had already had a weapon. While it would be cruel to use it and his guilt against him, the pure mental exhaustion she felt inside left her with little remorse.
There was this dark void in her chest—in her womb. No tears fell anymore. Her body would heal and leave scars of the torment, but would her soul? There was nothing for her to actually heal that portion of herself, so would she remain so…empty? As a mother, she had failed the one task given to her and failed Munto, their kingdom, and her child she knew only for a week.
If she could cry, if the numbness would dissipate, would the grief leave her?
Her fingers gripped the arm of her chair, her nails dug into the fabric. So many dark thoughts ran through her mind, clouded any rational. The sky stayed bright, though, as the Akuto flow was not dependent on just her anymore.
A hand rested on top of hers, pulling her eyes from the bright scenery outside to greet golden orbs full of grief and worry. Her lip quivered. Every muscle and bone in her body felt heavy. Each minute that passed felt like a year. Yet, he knelt before her, taking her hand in his, not saying anything.
That was one thing she had learn about him. If nothing needed to be said or should be said, he would say nothing. A silent strength.
That was what she needed to be right then, but nothing felt strong about herself. Even her eyes burned and she wished she could hide again. That was a feeling she had not felt for many years.
"No matter what you feel now, Yumemi, this will pass," he spoke quietly. "We will feel this toil for years, but never doubt that I am here. My presence will never leave your side again." He bent forward and kissed her knuckles gently.
A royal promise.
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
The strength of his conviction underlined those words. Pretty lies were not something he uttered.
Unfortunately, that was all she could hear. Pretty lies.
Her eyes closed deliberately and she turned to gaze out the window again.
