"Hic- Luni! I w-was hicc- s-s-so scared!" Lyra clung to her neck and sobbed, shaking her tiny body.
Lunivette couldn't do anything to calm the child down, besides holding her carefully against the one side of her body that hurt less and tracking the raindrops that raced down the window. Her own body was still tense, muscles tightened to the core, and waiting for the next attack. Asena was in the corner, talking to one of the knights who brought her back; other than that, the only sounds in the room were Lyra's hiccups and sniffles and the occasional shouts of laughter from the tavern below. This wasn't how she wanted today to end, or even how she wanted to break the news that she was gonna pass the bakery on to Asena so she had a way to keep her days busy while her husband was away.
Lunivette wasn't sure how much time had passed since she was taken to his room, as darkness filled the window and the rain was falling steadily, unlike the downpour that had happened earlier.
"Lunivette, I'm gonna take Lyra and get her home." Asena gently lifted the sleeping child off her and glanced back at the knights by the door, and lowered her voice. "If they give you any trouble, the back door is open, and the guest room is ready."
"Thank you, Asena. If you-" Asena held up her free hand, cutting Lunivette off.
"Don't say you're sorry for his actions. He did it himself, and he got what he deserved. As for the bakery, I would be honored to continue the legacy." With that as her last comment, Asena walked past the guards with a sleeping Lyra out the door and into the night, leaving Lunivette there by the fire waiting for the duke's return.
Lunivette stared at the doorway and replayed the last bit Asena told her. She agreed to take over the bakery, the only thing that was keeping her tied to the village. Now that the stress of the day was easing out of her body and muscles, she felt heavy and drained. Every deep breath pulled faintly at her chest, tender and sore where Brixton's boot landed earlier. Even shifting too quickly against cushions sent an ache through her ribs and stomach, the kind that only grew worse the longer she sat still. Plus, it was nothing like when she used too much mana when she first realized she could; that was something else entirely. No, this was something else that called her name to the bed, beckoning her to crawl into the covers and let sleep take her.
That actually sounds like a really good idea.
Crawling beneath the covers, Lunivette settled into the middle of the bed, moving and rearranging pillows until they encased her and filled the gaps of warmth the comforter could not provide. Buried under everything, Lunivette finally let the soft lull of rain and the crashing of the waves sway her to sleep.
*********
The soft sounds of birds chirping outside the window were the first thing that Lunivette heard when she started to stir. Warm rays of sunlight filled the room, and the smell of something warm and inviting filled the space, making yesterday feel like a bad dream. And maybe it was.
Lunivette went to stretch, but something was off. A dull ache pulled through her ribs the moment she moved too quickly. And, there was a weight across her midsection, large and heavy, keeping her in place on the bed. Not only that, but the mattress felt wrong, too soft, too new to be hers. Behind her was something solid, soft, and firm. Moving her body slowly, she was able to turn her body and face the thing, correction, the person behind her, asleep.
It was the Grand Duke in all his glory, except maybe it was because he was asleep and not threatening, but he looked younger, possibly even more youthful now that the weight of his title wasn't bearing on his shoulders. Lunivette raised her hand to move a few strands of hair away from his face, but her hand froze in mid-air.
Was this something she should do? What if he wakes up?
Putting her hand down slowly, Lunivette could only stare at his features and commit them to memory. She could make out small lines scattered across his face, several reminders of the many battles he had endured in the Red Dragon campaign. There was one in particular that caught her attention. It was jagged and ran from the corner of his hairline, down the tail end of his eyebrow, and stopped at the corner of his left eye. In all honesty, this was her favorite one.
She couldn't explain why it was, only that it was her favorite one. Lifting her hand once more, she lightly traced the scar, branding it to memory. Even if this 'arrangement' was something beyond their control, and he wrote in his letter that it was simply out of duty and not sentimental, it would be in these moments that, just maybe, it could be something more. Not that she was ever gonna tell him, that would be the end of her, and she knew it too.
When she was about to have her debut in society under the care of the commander, she sought out a matchmaker to see if a young sailor she had been talking to would be blessed. The matchmaker, when comparing their palms, cried out in fear and claimed that anyone destined for her was bound to a life filled with misery and constant danger. That very same night, the sailor left without so much as a goodbye and only left a note claiming to forget about him and that he felt sorry for the fool who had to be her husband. And he wasn't the only one, either.
There were two more marriage prospects that the commander had tried to set her up with, but they all ended in the same manner, by different matchmakers, too. They were all the same, too. They got close and claimed the stories didn't bother them, met the matchmaker, then left with the same excuse. Except the last one was more sympathetic to her, told her that it seemed like fate had already chosen someone for her, but it would come at a cost. Word had spread throughout the town, though, and just like that, a new round of whispers had started, but it only lasted a few short months as the Red Dragon Campaign captured everyone's attention.
Her fingers hovered above his skin on the third time, retracing the scar, close enough this time to feel the warmth of the man who once again came to her rescue.
Was this going to be all their interactions from here on out? She ends up in danger, or someone is coming after her, and then Orion comes in to save the day?
She wasn't some damsel in distress, but lately it seemed like that was all she was to him. Slowly, carefully, she let her hand fall. One more trace wouldn't hurt, right?
His grip snapped around her wrist.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Dark green eyes opened, heavy with sleep but still sharp enough to hold her in place. His hold wasn't harsh like the other day, but it was gentle, either. It was firm, grounding, impossible to ignore.
"What are you doing?" he asked, voice rough with sleep.
For a moment, she couldn't speak. Couldn't move or pull her hand away.
And yet despite the question, there was one thing on her mind...
He didn't push her away.
He hadn't let go.
For a moment, Lunivette couldn't breathe. His hand was wrapped firmly around her wrist. Warm. Steady. Real.
"What," Orion asked again, voice rough with sleep, "are you doing?"
Soft morning light filtered through the shutters, pale gold against the dim room. Somewhere below them, the tavern had already begun to stir awake, muffled voices and shouts of laughter carried faintly through the floorboards. The storm had passed sometime in the night. She could still smell the rain as it mixed with the sharp scent of the sea. But inside the room, it was as if everything and time itself had stopped.
Heat rushed violently to her face because this was worse.
Far worse.
Her hand had been near his face when he caught her, more specifically, near the pale scar by his eye. Lunivette had noticed it before when he first came into the bakery. But in the morning light, it looked painfully human and slightly less than something she should be terrified of.
"I..." Her voice failed her instantly. "I was only..."
Only tracing the scar on your face while youslept.
Wonderful, there was no way she could ever tell that to his face.
Humiliation burned through her. It hadn't even been a full two days since she was cursing Orion's name, and now she's acting like this? Lunivette knew she should pull away. There was much to discuss, and she felt she needed to apologize for what he saw. And yet... he still hadn't released her wrist.
Her pulse stumbled and jumped.
She remembered curling into the unfamiliar bed, beneath the layers of blankets and pillows, after Asena took Lyra and agreed to take over the bakery, surrounding herself with enough warmth and softness that hardly any space remained untouched by it. As though if she made the space small enough, hell, even just safe enough, nothing could reach her there.
Lunivette had only meant to wait for him.
At least long enough to know he had returned and that she agreed to whatever demanded her attention in Ivor. Instead, sleep had taken her somewhere between the sound of the rain and waves and the quiet music drifting upward from the tavern below.
And now he was here. Close enough for her to feel the warmth lingering beneath his skin.
Close enough that Lunivette could still smell the rain, leather, and a faint trace of smoke and something metallic still clinging to his clothes.