Page 34 of Honeythorn
“Yes,” Gianna said immediately.
They said their goodbyes before Milan walked up to him.
“This does not seem your favourite place to be, Lord Raphael,” Milan greeted. Lord Raphael looked at him but made no response. “Shall we leave?”
Lord Raphael stared a while longer before nodding. It was not until they were both in the crawler that he spoke.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked. Milan turned from the window to look at him.
“Yes, thank you.” Milan stared at Lord Raphael’s glove-covered hands. “My Lord…” he swallowed nervously. “I just wanted to ask about your gloves. Could you not…could we not touch, once in a while?”
The scowl that took over Lord Raphael’s face was instantaneous. “For what purpose? To what ends?”
“Th-the bond…”
“No. See, this is exactly what I meant—why do you get to decide what’s in my head? My soul? Is marriage not enough?”
“You know that’s not the only—”
“Enough!” Raphael whispered harshly.
Milan glowered, becoming incensed by not being allowed to even speak. “I know about Jack, Raphael.”
Raphael’s eyes widened, looking truly shocked.
“I know you loved him. I know I cannot replace him. That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
“Enough. Enough, enough,” Lord Raphael said, looking truly shaken, but Milan couldn’t let it go.
“The bond—you agreed to it, you—”
“I can’t! You cannot force me.…You cannot—I won’t let you.” Raphael gripped the material over his chest as if trying to keep his heart inside. He looked like he was about to fall apart.
How much was this man mourning his past love? How much was Milan an intrusion into his life?
But, was Lord Raphael’s pain worth Milan also suffering?
“Please,” Milan whispered, reduced to begging. He was not surprised it did not work. Raphael shook his head, pressing himself against the door of the crawler as if Milan’s mere presence was driving him away.
They sat in silence for the rest of the ride. Milan had no more hope to cling to.
CHAPTER NINE
It was slow, the consumption. The first sign Milan was forced to acknowledge was his need to take a nap in the middle of the day or risk falling asleep on top of his books in the library. He tried to compensate by eating more in order to replenish his energy but was foiled by a poor appetite.
No matter how much he slept, he would wake tired in the morning. Even during his waking hours, he would become dazed sometimes, making it hard to concentrate like he once did.
Milan was sure that Melissa noticed. She would ask him if he had eaten, or how he had slept, and looked worried when he would let her help him more and more with his daily routine. Even talking became tiresome for Milan—all he could do was brush her away and depend on her propriety not to press for answers.
Not that he had any. Not that she would want to hear them, anyway.
**********
The ground was wet and muddy after a night filled with rain, but Milan didn’t hesitate in dismounting Saturnus and walking towards Laura’s house after tying the mare to a post. He had recognised her in town from their first meeting with Lord Raphael by the pig pens, and Milan had insisted on giving her some spices he had brought from his homeland. It was one of his favourite blends to rub on pork, and he didn’t doubt she would agree.
Milan was just about to knock on her door when he heard a commotion not far from the house. He walked around it to see that something was happening by the pens and hurried towards the noise.
What met him was nothing short of chaos. Laura, along with two men, were running around, trying to corral no less than fifteen pigs which had obviously made a bid for freedom. Milan gaped for a moment before jumping into the fray. He ran towards the nearest man, who looked surprised to see him but readily accepted Milan’s help. The two of them managed to wrestle a pig back into the pen, but that was only the start.
