Vow Of Silence

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

1st PERSON: Pelomina Lorenzo-Capiz

A big carriage, led by four horses and a dragon, with some stuff on the roof and on the attached carriers on the back of the cabin. It felt like we were in a mobile home and having a literal bed in here did not help mitigate the feeling that we’re definitely going to take long.

Which would make sense, we are crossing countries, in the first place. Leaving early is really the best choice in the option of wanting to set course on the day of the event. We’re still barely out of the town and, to my surprise, even Lykus got some shut-eye.

But there’s a perfectly installed bed over here. Why is he sleeping in a chair? He should’ve just told me to move aside a little, he has ample space to lie down beside me, I should just—wait, no.

If I call out to him now and he ends up refusing, I’d just ruin his nap. Then again, if I called him over and he agreed, aren’t I putting myself in a compromising position? Personally, I really don’t want to create more tension between us than I already did,

But I also feel really guilty that he has to sleep like that. My neck was aching with how his neck is bent. Maybe I could just say that we could take shifts? I already had a good few hours of sleep. Embarrassingly enough, the bed was a temptress, and I was weak-willed. I just hope I didn’t snore.

I cleared my throat as I sat up, “Uhm… my lord?” I called out in a whisper. He didn’t respond. Thank goodness he didn’t, because I just realized that I don’t know how to phrase out the question at all. What do I say exactly? “Would you like to lie down?...” I offered in the softest whisper I could muster, sort of having a trial-and-error moment,

But saying it in a question-like manner would only heighten the chance of refusal, right? At this point I don’t even know what I want for myself, I took another deep breath, “I… would like if you slept on the bed, we could exchange places,” I sampled again, just testing out how it would sound like, and it sounded better but—

“Wife?...”

“GAH!—M-My lord, I’m sorry… you startled me,” I breathed out, placing a hand over my chest. My heart jumped at the sound of his voice. Couldn’t he have made a softer sound?

“No, I’m sorry for startling you…” he countered before, without a word, he sat on the edge of the bed and laid down, his eyes immediately shut closed. His legs were too long for the bed, so one of his feet rested on the floor of the carriage and the other was bent to fit the length.

But in this position, he blocked my way of sliding off the bed. Simply said, he blocked my exit routes and now I’m somewhat stuck on this spot and I don’t have enough confidence to step over him to get out of this situation.

“My head hurts, perhaps I woke up too early… How about you, wife?” I heard him ask, but even so, his eyes remained closed. So he has a headache? I’m… surprised he also suffers from things like that. It makes me realize I held him on a very high pedestal.

“I’m alright… does it hurt a lot?” I asked back, and he hummed,

“It’s bearable,” he answered with a gulp. I bet it hurts like heck. Do we have an ancient version of painkillers? Surely, there has to be a remedy for this kind of thing. Then again, even in my world, medicine doesn’t work so well. What more can I expect here?

I can’t help but remember how pissed my mom was when the medicine she bought didn’t work, so I ended up having to massage her head—wait.

“My lord,”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to massage your head?”

…

“Pardon?”

Oh… oh crap—”I-I mean if it’s to ease the pain of the headache, would a massage work just fine?” I reasoned, I was offering it lightly. He didn’t have to read into it. The air between us is already stiff and awkward as he is. He couldn’t have just played it cool and nodded, huh?

No, he had to make me explain–do you know how to ruin even the best jokes with the best punchlines? Explain it. This is what this whole situation is equal to.

“That… would you be alright with doing that?” he asked. Oh please, how could you ask that when you already looked eager for me to begin? Staring at me through squinted eyes,

I nodded, “Yes, I am, I did offer to do it, after all my lord,” I replied and he scoffed, closing his eyes again as he shifted on his back.

“Yes, I suppose you did,” he replied with a scoff. Did I reply with too much attitude? He didn’t seem to mind that bit and just cleared his throat again, “If that’s the case, that would be delightful,” he said. So… that means yes, doesn't it? I huffed with a nod and shifted closer over to him, trying to gauge what is the best position to do was just as I suggested.

In doing so, I couldn't help but notice just how unfair life was to the rest of us. This man is definitely one of God’s favorites. His facial structure is more defined than the life-plan I tried to map out in college. A straight and sharp nose, chiseled cheekbones, strong jawline, sharp eyes, a headful of thick hair, height, body type, skills… the list just goes on.

I gently put three fingers of both hands on both sides of his temples and started pressing them in a circular motion. As soon as I did his expression softened a little. Now that I’m looking closely, even if his lashes were also white-ish, it still looks full because they were long and thick, and they contrasted well with his rich dark-brown complexion.

His eyebrows were also white, but they were bushy… yet somehow still neat and elegant. Makes me wonder what his parents looked like. I wonder who he takes after. I started moving onto other areas, starting under his eyes and gently pulling them right to the cheekbones.

‘How do people look this good? What sort of blessed genes does he have to look this ethereal?’

“Is there something on my face?” he asked, lips barely parted with how softly he spoke, learning from his mistakes earlier. Still, it made me flinch a little.

“No,” I replied,

He hummed, the corners of his lips curling upwards. “I could feel you boring holes in my face, I couldn’t help but assume you like it,” he said.

How dare he… take note of that! How dare he tell me those words—does he think I don’t know? I know damn well that I like his face. It’s not a secret! I could easily admit that, I just blurted it out easily earlier. What makes him think I don’t know how pretty his face is? But see, now that he made a smart remark about it… I’ll want to deny it.

“Psh—Y-You have a very well constructed face, my lord, everyone can see that,” I replied,

“So… I have a well-constructed face,”

“Yes,”

“Pray tell, what does that mean exactly, wife?”

“Yea–huh? It…” I trailed off. Is he fishing for a direct compliment? Oh, so that’s how he wants to play. I cleared my throat a little, my hands not stopping because he’ll need a massage after I humble him down, “It means you have a very unique and defined face. Only a few people get such luck,” I explained.

He huffed, his eyes remained closed but his eyebrows furrowed with a smirk, “And you find this uniquely structured face to be your liking?” he asked, now directly asking for a yes or no question, clever, but not yet.

“I suppose, it is what you would call conventionally attractive,” I began, “It would be normal if an entire community of people would fawn over your good looks,” I added, lightly pressing my fingertips on his scalp, “It would also be normal for a few people to just acknowledge it, because, my lord, beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I finished, going in this roundabout manner makes it look like I’m going against him.

In truth, I’m just agreeing with him, but with more steps.

“Wife… I care not for what others think, I am asking…” he trailed off, slowly opening his eyes, reaching his hand out to my face to tuck a few stray hairs behind my ear, “What you think… I’m married to you, not to anyone else,” he finished and with the heart-pounding line, my heart sank.

It became clear to me that the option of explaining my situation to him is out of the question. He wouldn’t hear me out. I’m the villain here, I’m the one who’s hurt him by taking the body of his wife, by making him believe I was her this whole time.

He might not be suffering now, but he will. Unless I find a way to bring her back, I’ll forever be the villain in this story.