Page 13 of Honeythorn
Milan took a deep breath, putting his utensils down and with them, his useless pride.
“Lord Raphael…” he started quietly, causing Raphael to stop eating at once, although he continued staring ahead. “What displeased you so much today? Do you really wish for an Omega without opinion or voice?”
At that, Raphael’s eyes flicked towards him. “Of course not.”
“Then why do you think it fair to punish me for having one?”
“How am I punishing you? I would not think my company much of a reward.”
Milan clenched his hand. “It is solitude that is the punishment.”
A heavy quiet fell over them. Milan could hear a clock ticking out in the hall. He was thankful that Larry or any other servant was not present, for it was time that Milan bare something of himself in order to make this marriage work.
“I am alone in a strange land, far from everything and everybody I know. My family, my friends…I came but with mere trinkets to remember them by. You are at a complete advantage in this partnership. This is your house, your people, your culture. You are my only link to this place. Without you, I am lost.” Milan’s gaze was steady. Raphael was finally looking at his eyes. “By accepting this marriage, we are accepting to do our duty. Do you oppose to do it with kindness?”
Milan saw his words had stirred something in Raphael, who looked away, knuckles white around his knife and fork. His eyes were hazy, as if his mind were somewhere else. When Raphael spoke, it was so quietly that Milan would have missed the words if he hadn’t been so focused.
“You are not the first Omega to have such sweet words for me.”
Milan sat back, stunned. Bond-breaks were a painful business, but they weren’t unheard of. In truth, despite his curiosity, Milan had not spent too much time thinking about Raphael’s past marriage. There were many reasons why partnerships dissolved and, though not seen well by society, such things happened. Milan had not wanted to judge Raphael for that.
Now, Milan knew that he had missed one vital thing that explained these past few days perfectly.
Raphael was in love with someone else.
“I see,” Milan said quietly.
Raphael’s previous husband must have broken his heart, and when Milan had barged in and began to get too close—involving himself in Raphael’s affairs as if they were already married—it had caused him to bite as wounded animals often do.
Milan twisted the cloth napkin he had subconsciously picked up between his fingers. “Are you’re sure that you’re willing to go through with this marriage? This bonding? I understand the pressures that are on us, but…”
“Are you?” Raphael countered. Milan gave the question due thought. Envisioned his family, and the consequence of his returning.
“Yes.”
“Then so am I.”
Milan nodded, pushing his plate away, knowing he would be unable to eat anymore. He had hoped otherwise, but Milan had known this was a possibility—that he would be caught in a loveless marriage. Bonded, yes, and eventually bearing children, but loveless nonetheless.
The reality of it was much more depressing than simply imagining it.
“All right. I hope, then, that despite the fact that I do not have a place in your heart, we can at least be partners in this.”
Raphael’s eyebrows twitched, but he nodded slowly.
The silence that fell between them was suffocating.
**********
Milan never used to pay much attention to the minutes between waking up and getting out of bed, except perhaps to luxuriate in the ability to doze off when he did not have a busy day ahead. Now, however, it was as if this small moment of time were an obstacle he had to climb over every morning.
Milan lay there, listening to the bustling noises outside. His wedding day was approaching. It would be a play he had to participate in, with not one familiar face in the audience. His family had too many of their own duties, and this land was too far away to attend. He would be, once again, alone.
As the week dwindled down, it became increasingly difficult to dissolve his maudlin thoughts. Milan would amble around the house, attempting to help but being shooed off by the servants. He would eat dinner with Raphael every evening, trying to make conversation, but Raphael became colder and more closed off as the days passed.
The idea that this could have led to love, or even a close friendship, suddenly seemed terribly naïve.
“Have preparations been made…will our wedding night take place in your room?” Milan asked during the dinner before their wedding.
