Page 28 of Honeythorn
“I think I’ll retire now,” Milan said softly.
Melissa usually barely helped him get ready for bed, but she walked with him to his room. Milan must have been compliant that night, for he was suddenly being dried from his bath and dressed. He had even let Melissa turn down the bed, and he slipped inside.
Milan broke out of the numb silence that had taken over him as he noticed Melissa was still in his room, standing awkwardly by the door.
“Is everything all right?” he questioned.
“Yes. I just…Lord Ledford is a good man, Lord Milan.”
Milan blinked at her, surprised at how much that comment hurt, that she would defend him after that night. “Of course.”
“No, My Lord—” Melissa rushed further into the room. “I did not mean it like that.”
“It’s quite all right, Melissa,” Milan said tiredly. “Of course I would have no qualms with you being loyal to the lord of the house.”
“I’m loyal toyou, My Lord,” she assured earnestly. “I only meant to say…to give you some hope.”
Milan smiled at her, although he felt how the expression strained. If there was anything this night had put a definite end to, it was hope.
“Thank you, Melissa.”
She hesitated for a moment longer before bowing and leaving the room.
He would normally read in bed before sleeping, but he turned off the sconces and blew out the candles instead. He lay in his solitude amidst the strange silence, the call of strange night birds, the strange cold.
Light was starting to filter through the curtains when he finally fell asleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Milan woke up in a fog, but he did not delay getting out of bed and getting ready for the day.
He had thought a lot throughout the night. About Lord Raphael’s reaction. About his own. He understood Lord Raphael better, now. They would not be lovers, they would not be friends—but they could be civil. They would touch enough to keep the bond functional and little more. This dynamic was not what he had hoped for, but it did not mean the end of the world for Milan.
So what if he would not know love in marriage? There were many types of love, and Milan refused to not have a rich life filled with interests, friends, duties, and family.
His only worry was his heats. He had assumed they would pass them together even after they had children, using herbs to stop conception. The heats were truly brutal without an Alpha there after bonding, he had heard, but it was doubtful Lord Raphael would tolerate the intimacy.
It was not worth thinking about that now, however. Lord Raphael would have to at least spend the first few with him, for the sake of the bond.
Resolute, he strode out of his room, catching Melissa by surprise as he went down the stairs.
“Do you know where Lord Raphael is?” Milan asked.
“In his study, I believe.”
Not a great surprise—if he wasn’t working outside, he was working inside.
“Thank you. I’ll have breakfast later.”
Melissa gave him a bemused smile before nodding.
Milan entered the study without knocking. Anger had replaced the fear of last night, but he used it to propel him forwards.
Raphael got to his feet quickly—a strange reaction that Milan ignored. They stood some meters apart, simply staring at each other for a moment as if the previous night had lasted years and they were now reunited, little more than strangers.
Then again, perhaps that was what they had always been.
“I believe we need to talk,” Milan started.
