I lost my son when a reckless carriage struck me on the old trade route while I was returning from the family gathering. The shock sent me straight to the doctor’s quarters, and the child I carried did not survive the blood loss. Today marked the second month since the funeral rites, and Darian had agreed to accompany me to the Don’s private clinic for my checkup.

When he offered a hasty excuse and turned to leave, I didn’t stop him. I no longer clutched at his coat or begged him to stay by my side like I once had, in the days when loyalty and affection bound us tightly.

Watching his back fade into the shadows of the alleyway, a strange calm settled over me. It was as if the invisible chain that had tethered my heart to his had finally slackened. I realized then that whether he stood near or far no longer stirred my blood as it once did. His absence no longer cut me the way it used to.

A young medic called my name, and I accepted the prescribed remedies and the Don’s counsel in silence before making my way back alone through the empty streets.

Not long after, a courier arrived with a note. It read: Liora, return to the estate on your own. I have urgent matters to handle within the family.

In earlier days, I would have sent a frantic message through our network, demanding he come for me, begging for his company. Now, such words felt hollow—wasted breath fading in the night air. I replied simply, Very well.

I left the clinic grounds and hired a carriage back to the estate. As we passed the river bend, I caught sight of Darian’s horse tied near the old oak, inexplicably waiting. Strange—had he not claimed he couldn’t escort me?

When I reached the estate, a notice pinned in the hall caught my eye. Selara had tagged him in her message: “Just a mild fever, yet he insisted on bringing me to the doctor and has stayed by my side ever since. After everything, you’re still my truest protector.”

Selara Davis—his childhood ally. Years ago, she left our territory to marry a wealthy lord in the mountains. Last winter, fortune turned against her; her husband ruined, the marriage dissolved, and she returned with a young child.

In Darian’s eyes, I had always been the one to fill the space Selara left behind. I knew this long before I pledged myself to him under the family seal. Back then, I had loved him fiercely and bound myself to his house with a solemn oath.

Once, I dreamed of bearing his heir, strengthening our lineage. But the loss of my son felt like a message from fate—perhaps a child tied to Darian would never have thrived under our watch.

After taking the doctor’s draught, sleep claimed me. Deep into the night, the door creaked open.

“What did the Don’s counsel reveal today?” Darian asked quietly, stepping close, brushing a hand across my hair.

A foreign scent lingered on him—a trace of another woman’s perfume, subtle but unmistakable. I turned my face away, refusing his touch in silence.

“Nothing of concern,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “I am well.”

Darian nodded. “The family required my presence. Business became urgent.”

I didn’t challenge him. I rolled onto my side, closing my eyes. “Then wash away the day’s dealings before resting.”

For a moment, he hesitated. He said nothing. Soon after, I heard the basin fill and water splash—he washing himself in silence, a ritual of order in the chaos of our lives.

The next morning broke under a pale sky, and I rose before the first horn sounded across the estate. It was my turn to oversee operations at the doctor’s quarters near the western ridge, so I left early, not waiting for Darian to stir by the fire. After the council meeting wrapped at midday, a messenger arrived with a note—Darian sought me through our secure channel.

His message came sharp, tinged with irritation. Liora, why did you leave before dawn? You departed the estate without warning, and I overslept.

Once, I had tended to him with meticulous care. After our union was formalized under the Don’s seal and sworn before the family elders, I rose before him each day. I laid out his suit, prepared his morning meal, and sent discreet reminders to ensure he never missed his appointments. I had believed such devotion was the duty of a loyal wife.

Yet his tone now carried expectation, as if my loyalty were merely a contract etched in stone. As though affection were a service owed to him alone.

I was never his servant—I was his wife by oath. I had every right to refuse.

“If you are late, then rise quickly,” I sent in reply.

He asked again, What shall I wear to the gathering today?

“Choose whatever suits you. They are in the cedar chest,” I answered.

“But I cannot find—”

At that moment, a physician called me to assist with an urgent case, so I cut the link short. “I must attend my duties. Find it yourself.”

Not long after, his voice pressed again into my mind. The shirts are wrinkled. Have you not pressed them? I cannot appear before the council like this.

Then came another complaint: And no meal has been prepared?

Before I could respond, the chief doctor summoned me to his chamber. “Liora,” he said warmly, “your strength has returned. The family elders speak highly of you. The Don wishes to discuss advanced training in the northern territories.”

I had once declined such an opportunity, believing I would soon bear Darian’s heir and remain within the estate. But that dream had crumbled like dry leaves under frost. Building a family with him no longer felt like a sacred path—it felt hollow. Staying by his side seemed not only futile but dangerous to my own ambitions.

“I have reconsidered,” I told the doctor with steady resolve. “I will accept the assignment.”

He nodded in approval. “A wise choice.”

He instructed me to prepare for departure once the cycle was confirmed. His encouragement strengthened me. Perhaps this was the beginning of a life shaped by my own decisions, not by the shadow of another.

The day passed with work flowing like the river through the estate. When night finally fell, I remained inside the hall, sorting parchments and accounts. Only when Darian’s secure call reached me did I realize how late it had become.

Why have you not returned? Where is the evening meal?

The thought of stepping back into the estate beside him filled me with unease. I chose to remain and finish my tasks.

“My duties shifted unexpectedly,” I replied calmly through the channel. “I will eat here tonight. You may prepare your own supper.”

Here? His tone carried surprise.

In former days, leaving him without a prepared meal would have been unthinkable. I had tended every fire, every table, three times a day.

“Is there trouble?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “Only work.”

After a pause, he spoke again, softer this time. Do not exhaust yourself.

“Thank you,” I answered, without warmth.

Silence lingered between us before he finally asked, Liora… are you upset with me?

The question came too late—like a messenger arriving after the family business had already been settled. A spark stirred within me—something close to anger, yet deeper, quieter. It was disappointment, enduring and cold. Had he truly failed to see my feelings, or had he never cared to look?

It no longer mattered.

I would not carry resentment any longer. My path would follow my own decisions, and my heart would walk its course without him.

In a tone softened by controlled authority, Darian reached out through our secure channel first. Liora, Selara struggles to manage her affairs alone. She has no family here. In this territory, I am her only ally.

His words cut sharper than he intended. He seemed to forget that, in truth, I too had only him ever since we swore our loyalty before the Don and the family council.

“I understand,” I replied quietly through the link. “She’s endured a great deal.”

Liora, what do you mean by that? Why do you sound so—

“I said I understand,” I repeated, my tone stripped of warmth, edged with steel. “Is that not sufficient?”

Must you answer me so sharply?

“Then what would you have me say?” I asked, frustration threading my words like a fine blade.

For a long moment, the channel went silent. The absence of his voice felt heavy, like tension hanging over a meeting before a deal gone wrong. At last, he muttered, Do as you please, before severing the connection.

How ironic. Once, when I asked why he visited Selara’s quarters in the eastern district, he called me meddlesome. When I pressed to know when he would return from her side, he accused me of clinging too tightly. And now, even my attempt to understand him drew his ire.

With a quiet exhale, I set the documents aside. Worrying would not repair the growing divide between us. There were still ledgers to balance and reports to finalize before the Don’s inspection.

When the night watch concluded, I remained behind, sweeping the hall and extinguishing the lamps. Returning to Darian’s quarters felt unnecessary, almost burdensome.

By the time I arrived at my own suite, Darian had already departed for his duties with the enforcers. I washed with water from the basin and lay upon the divan, hoping for rest. Yet just as sleep began to claim me, the sharp chime of the signal bell at my desk cut the quiet. Darian’s message had found me.

Liora, he pressed, the tension in his thoughts unmistakable, my… my head aches.

I murmured a brief reply, though fatigue weighed heavily on me. Before I could rise, sleep dragged me under again. In my dreams, I thought I heard him calling my name through the city streets, but the sound dissolved like smoke in the night, and I let it fade.

Later, the door creaked open. I awoke to find Darian standing near the divan, his expression taut with frustration and exhaustion.

“Liora, why have you grown so distant? When I was ill before, you would rush to my side with remedies, remain through the night until I recovered. You would never leave my chamber until the pain eased.”

Those memories were burned into me. Once, when he suffered a severe stomach infection, I requested leave from the physician and brought remedies to his training grounds. Rain fell without mercy along the route, soaking my coat and hair, leaving me unkempt and mocked by his men. Darian had not silenced them. Later, he told me never to appear before his enforcers like that again, claiming I had embarrassed him.

“Are you feeling better now?” I asked, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “Our supply of remedies may be low. You can collect more from the physician at first light.”

For a heartbeat, he stared at me, silence hanging heavy between us. Then anger flared, hot and sudden. Gripping my arm, he demanded, Liora, how long will you persist in quarreling over Selara? I swear on the family name, there is nothing between us!

I met his gaze calmly. “Very well.”

My composed response only fueled his fury. With a harsh movement, he stormed from the room, the door slamming against the frame with authority.

When the echo faded, an unfamiliar peace settled over the suite. The silence felt lighter, freer, than his presence had ever been.