Page 42 of Kingdom of Lies

Her emotional distance unsettles me more than I expected. These newfound feelings between us are still tenuous – will her grief snuff them out before they can truly ignite?

I know I cannot force intimacy while she is so distraught. Yet the urge to confront her avoidance gnaws at me.

We have not shared a bed in a week.

I miss her keenly and it bothers me greatly.

How can I remain strong from her when I miss her so?

Left to my own devices, I attempt to clear my head with familiar pastimes - meticulously polishing and maintaining my armor and weapons, poring over ancient military texts, and relentlessly training in the sunlit courtyard. But no matter how hard I try, concentration eludes me. My mind is consumed by memories of Kathleen's withdrawn, mournful face. Our once-blossoming affection now feels like a wilted flower, neglected and starved for attention.

I grip the hilt of my blade and begin to sharpen it with swift, practiced strokes. The metallic scent of the whetstone fills the room as I prepare for what must be done. I can no longer passively wait for this estrangement to mend itself; it will only fester and worsen.

Polishing a dent from my breastplate, I decide to confront the issue directly and honestly. Kathleen deserves my full devotion, not just convenient pretense. I must bare my heart if there is any hope of winning hers back.

I make my way to the overgrown woods behind the estate, axe in hand. Hard, physical labor often helps order what exactly I will say to her.

With my trusty axe, I make my way through the overgrown woods behind the estate. The air is thick and humid, buzzing with insects and the scent of damp earth.

With each swing of the axe, it bites deep into the tough, weathered log with a satisfying thunk. The sound echoes through the silent woods, accompanied by the occasional rustle of leaves or scurrying of small animals. I settle into a focused rhythm – chop, split, stack.

As sweat soaks my brow, revelations take shape.

What I feel for Kathleen goes beyond casual fondness or convenience. I want all of her – not just fleeting moments of happiness, but a true partner who shares joy and pain equally.

Another log splits in two under my swing.

The crackling sound echoes through the quiet forest, mixing with my labored breaths and the rustle of leaves underfoot.

As I clear away the debris, I am reminded of the journey Kathleen and I have taken together. Every step has been filled with discoveries - both joyful and painful. To truly understand who she is, I must embrace every facet of her being. Even in her current state of grief and despair, as difficult as it may be, it is a vital part of what makes her real and whole. Tenderly clearing away pretenses and masks, I am left with the raw truth of who she is.

With my emotions settled, I neatly stack the firewood. It is time Kathleen and I talked openly, without barriers or artifice.

Our future depends on it.

I knock tentatively on her chamber door. "Kathleen? May I enter?" No response comes.

I cautiously push the door open, careful not to make a sound. The room is cloaked in darkness, but I can just make out the outline of her figure sprawled across the bed.

"Kathleen?" I whisper, my voice barely audible in the quiet room. Again, there is no response, but I pick up on the subtle rise and fall of her breathing, indicating she is

"Darling?" I repeat softly, my voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. The room is shrouded in darkness, but I can hear the faint sound of her breaths, revealing that she is awake. My feet tread carefully across the carpeted floor as I make my way towards the bed. Our distance has stretched on for far too long, and tonight will be the night we resolve this.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I reach out to touch her shoulder. She flinches but does not pull away. Heart heavy, I murmur, "Kathleen." My voice is gentle like I'm dealing with a wounded animal. "Please speak to me. You have been distant for days – are you unwell?”

There’s no response.

Her breathing remains undistributed.

"You cannot hide from me, dear one. Tell me how to ease your burden," I say softly.

“I’m fine… leave me alone,” she says, her voice so small and mousy and frail.

“You are not fine, if you are to be my mate you will take care of yourself.”

“Am I not pleasing, my lord?” she says, rolling over. There’s black bags under her eyes, her features slightly sunken in. She starts to unbutton her sleeping top and suddenly starts disrobing provocatively. "Isn't this what you want from me?" she asks bitterly.

I quickly avert my eyes. "Nay, this is not at all what I want between us." I expected a vulnerable truth, not this hollow seduction.

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