In Which Danthia Requests a Favor of Her Friend

December 31, 1162

At the sound of the door slamming shut no sooner than it had been opened, Danthia turned her head to see her husband standing beside her bed, simply staring at her. She couldn't say she had expected him; after all, in the entire time she'd been here, he'd scarcely said a word to her, and his eyes had yet to meet her own. They did not even have rooms on the same floor of the castle.

"Searle?" she addressed him cautiously; thus far, he had only ever responded to her concern with silence, but it seemed to her that it was only a matter of time before his mask of melancholy snapped, giving way to whatever other unpleasant emotions it may have been damming.

As usual, however, he said nothing. Even his eyes were as empty as his mouth--or so she thought before she caught sight of a small tear just as it was pushed aside by a blink.

Was it possible that she was doing him a disservice by walking on eggshells? Maybe he would be better off if she simply tried to talk to him about something--anything. Anything but them, at any rate.

"Uh... so, your twin sister had her baby last month," she muttered as she pulled herself off the bed. "A girl. She named her Cladelia." Again, he did not reply; she hastily added, "For your mother."

Searle's brow twitched. "I know my mother's name."

Startled, Danthia cringed; there was something venomously blunt about his tone. "Yes, well..."

Nothing came after "well", she realized as Searle drummed his fingers across his crossed arm. She closed her mouth and looked him up and down; logically, if she did nothing, he would either speak or leave.

And she was right--he did speak. "Does the baby look much like Riona's husband?"

"I don't know," answered Danthia. "I haven't seen her. I heard the news from a messenger."

A messenger who asked for you, she added bitterly to herself. A messenger who stood there like an idiot until I told him you were out. I've told lots of messengers you were out--I wonder when they'll clue in and figure out that you had no intention of ever coming back?

Again, there was silence; it seemed he had nothing more to say on that subject. But if that was the case, why didn't he change it? Surely he had a reason for coming to her room, and she wasn't about to disillusion herself by thinking he wanted to sleep with her.

The seconds past. Minutes. Then--

"For the love of God, Danthia, why are you here?" he demanded through gritted white teeth. "You're supposed to be back home in Dovia!"

"Oh, well it's nice to see you too," she sniffed. "I thought we were at least friends, Searle."

Her husband scowled. "I thought so too--until you showed up here, that is. A friend would have realized that I need my space. A friend would have stayed home and made sure things were kept running until I got back. I never meant for you to come after me, you know!"

"Stop being an idiot," Danthia scolded; God, why was he being such a child? "You're needed back home. Did you know that your mother rides out every week to see you? How many more times do you think I could have told her that you weren't there? I got a letter from Lileina saying that your mother thinks you've killed yourself and I'm just not telling her--what do you say to that?"

"Well, if that was the case, my mother wouldn't exactly be blameless there, would she?"

She didn't know how to respond to that. Danthia did not know all the details about what had happened between Searle and his parents, other than the fact that he had been involved with another girl. Her father had told her that much. He'd wanted her to know; he'd given her an opportunity to get out if she'd chosen to take it. For his sake, however, she had gone through with the marriage, as she knew it had been her father's plan for many years and the match would serve him well. Now, it seemed as though by she should have taken the chance when it had come. She wanted to love him--she really, really did--but it was painful to love someone who could not even be bothered to attempt to love her.

"Searle..."

"Look, Danthia!" he snapped at her; she did not recoil, though she felt a distinct shiver trill from her ears to her spine. "I was going to come back eventually, all right? Just not now--not this soon. Now that you're here, however, I'm obliged to take you back and stay with you. Trust me... you don't want me to stay with you."

Taken aback somewhat, Danthia's back straightened as she looked him in the eye. It seemed that he was trying to avoid her gaze, as he always did--this time, however, she would not let him glance aimlessly about the room. "I never said that."

It seemed he had run out of words--a ridiculous notion, as he had been saving them for months. After a few long, painful moments, however, he seemed to find a few more.

"I didn't want to hurt you, you know," Searle sighed wearily. "You'd be better off without me. If you're willing to chase someone all this way on your own, then you should be with someone capable of loving you."

Danthia shook her head. "Searle..."

"Danthia..."

"Searle, look at me."

Surprisingly, he did. Trying to keep her face as neutral as possible, Danthia dove into his eyes and told him, "Go to bed, Searle; we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow."

Searle shifted slightly in protest. "I don't think I can sleep."

"Try to, at least. Please."

"But..."

"Try," she insisted once again. "If you can't love me... at least sleep. If not for your wife, please--do that much for your friend."

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