Page 21 of Severe Husband Warning

Something unreadable passes through his expression, so brief that I almost convince myself I imagined it. The careful composure remains, but it no longer feels quite as effortless as it had a moment ago.

He says nothing.

The silence stretches only long enough for me to realize he isn't searching for a reply. He’s choosing not to give one.

Without another word, he turns toward the door.

His steps are measured, unhurried, the polished floor swallowing every sound before it can linger. The latch clicks softly behind him as he leaves, and the chambers fall quiet once more.

I stay rooted in place, the glowing slate cool beneath my fingertips.

If Lord Rothgar believes I agreed to become little more than another beautiful thing that decorates his household without speaking, then he understands our arrangement far less than I thought.

Tomorrow will leave him disappointed.

10

ROTHGAR

The western defense schematics occupy the entire surface of my study table, illuminated by thin lines of silver light tracing the city's storm conduits through every district of Galmoleth. I follow one branching network toward the outer wards, comparing projected strain against last month’s inspections while Commander Vhoros stands opposite me with the day’s reports arranged neatly in his hands.

Ordinarily, this work requires little effort. Every conduit, relay tower, and defensive ward follows principles refined over generations. Their logic is dependable, and their failures reveal themselves long before they become disasters.

Today, my attention wanders with irritating persistence.

A human woman intrudes upon the schematics, the memory of her flushed cheeks blending into the silver lines beneath my hand.

“So I’m to become another one of your pretty, silent plants?”

The words return with unwelcome clarity.

What awaits is the certainty behind them. She spoke as though the flaw in my reasoning should have been obvious.

Shaking my head, I shift my attention back to the schematics.

My thumb turns the signet ring on my finger before I realize I have begun. The metal is old, dark enough to swallow the light from the storm-lamps rather than reflect it. The habit has followed me for longer than I care to remember, surfacing whenever restraint proves more useful than action.

I stop when I notice Vhoros watching.

“My lord,” he begins, drawing my attention fully back to the present.

He waits with the practiced patience expected of someone who has served beneath my command for over two centuries. His posture remains as disciplined as ever, though I recognize the slight flexing around his jaw before he speaks again.

“There is one matter requiring your prompt attention.”

I smooth a hand across the glowing map, dismissing the enchantment. The silver lines dissolve into dark crystal beneath my palm. Rising from my chair, I circle the table and stop before the window overlooking the lower districts.

“Proceed.”

“Lord Malakor attended this morning’s gathering at the Noble Forum.”

That alone is unsurprising. Malakor rarely allows a public audience to pass without ensuring his presence becomes its defining feature.

“He spoke of your marriage,” Vhoros continues and I already know the direction this report will take. His expression hardens by a fraction. “He remarked that House Stromgarde has finally acquired a pet suitable for entertaining guests.”

Vhoros lowers his gaze briefly, gauging my reaction before continuing.

“The comment was…well received among those seeking his favor.” He chooses his phrasing carefully.