Irene felt like a child for how she was behaving, but it wasn’t fair that her parents were keeping things from her. It felt as if only they didn’t see her as an adult, while she had been governing herself as such for the past years, and especially after the war.
If they continued to keep things from her, it wasn’t going to make her life easier if she ca ho every so often only to find her father getting worse. How was she ant to leave at this rate at all or ever stop worrying for him?
"It’s only been a couple of days, sweetheart," Rochelle explained, but her voice sounded exhausted through her comforting words. "He collapsed on his way into town. He just needs rest."
But Irene was already gazing at her father’s face, silently wondering if he had gotten paler since the last ti she saw him.
"My sweet girl," Arthur tried to say, but his last word was punctuated with a cough, causing the wooden bed underneath him to creak.
At that, Irene’s emotions got the better of her as she buried her face in the bed next to her father. The soft mattress slled like the soap of her childhood and whipped her with the feeling of nostalgia. She took a few monts, breathing this scent in until it was enough to lift her head again.
Her parents let her have a mont to regather herself before her mother inquired, "What brings you ho already, dear? Usually, we go a year before seeing you again."
That’s right, Irene rembered her original reason for being there.
"Henry’s here," she explained. "I wanted him to have dinner here. We have been getting to know one another for the past few months."
Her parents exchanged a glance. She was on a first-na basis with her Commander and they could only imagine what that ant.
To Irene’s surprise, her father responded, "I knew I recognized a man in love. What are you waiting for? Bring him here."
Even after saying that much, he cleared his throat, and Irene winced.
"He’s going to worry," she realized. "About ... About you. He’s just soone who worries."
"A man who worries is a man who cares," Arthur persisted. "We can host him. Get the servants."
"Yes," Rochelle agreed. "Not only is he soone you’re interested in, but he’s the duke, and our ho is the designated eting place, considering your father is the reeve. I will go seek the maids, and we will make sothing delicious."
Rochelle didn’t allow anyone else to argue differently because she managed to wipe her face with a handkerchief and stand up. She quickly left the room to do as she said.
"Where is Arne?" Irene asked. "The house feels impossibly empty."
"He’s out hunting. He’ll be back before sunset," the old knight explained, his voice rough.
Irene rely sighed, and she leaned her elbows into the mattress, contemplating the situation for a few monts. This wasn’t the circumstances in which she wanted Henry to experience her family in their ho, but the choice had been taken from her.
It felt like it was now or never. How much worse could her father get?
"Then I suppose there’s no other choice..." Irene decided as she stood up. "I’ll go retrieve him."
Arthur looked up at his daughter, and he offered her a sad smile. "If you don’t want him to worry, you ought not to look like you just finished crying."
"Shall I tell him the truth of the situation? I do feel he has a right to know since you are one of his advisors," she admitted.
"You haven’t told him?" Arthur asked, surprised.
"I know you heard about his poisoning," Irene admitted. "I wasn’t sure I wanted to burden him with more while he was healing, then... he got better, and he seed so happy. I didn’t want to take that away from him."
Arthur held out his hand, and Irene took it.
"If this is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with, you ought to tell him about all aspects of your life," he explained, but he had to clear his throat lightly as his voice beca more rough. "He will want to lessen your burdens in any way he can. The interactions I’ve had with him through letters and the few interactions I’ve had with him in person have told as much."
"You’re... right," Irene admitted as her gaze dropped and she shut her eyes tightly. "I hope he won’t be upset with for keeping this from him."
"I don’t think he will be," Arthur admitted, continuing to smile and gently squeezing her hand. "Now, go to him. It will be alright. I’ll pull myself together here."
Irene was hesitant to leave her father’s side, but she wanted to bring Henry there so she wouldn’t be divided between two places.
"I’ll be back," she assured her father as she left.
However, she couldn’t help stopping at her room and starting the fire, deciding she probably ought to sleep at her parents’ ho if her father was going to keep doing things to worry her.
She also stopped at the mirror in her room, sighing when she saw that her eyes were indeed red even though she hadn’t cried much. Hopefully, the cool air of the impending autumn evening would bring her back to normal.
Irene left the house, already slling sothing delicious being made in the kitchen. A small smile pulled at her lips. She hoped that this was their way of accepting Henry as more than just the Duke because her heart had accepted him long before. He was soone who would forever change her.
The knight didn’t bother getting her armor, and she rely retrieved Sammy and took off from her father’s land and into the village.
Strangely enough, rather than feeling happy that the plans were coming together for a al at ho, a lump was forming in Irene’s throat as emotions she didn’t want to face were welling up. She didn’t want to disappoint Henry after hiding this from him for so long. She also hated the thought of her father being sick and suffering.
As she made it to the inn and got off of Sammy, she could see through so of the windows. Henry sat at the head of the table with the others, a relaxed smile on his handso face as he enjoyed their company. He wasn’t wearing armor anymore, and neither were the rest of the travelers.
For so reason, seeing him made the emotions she was holding back co forth as if her heart knew she was safe with him. She finally had permission to tell him the truth.
When she entered the inn and then the dining hall, her eyes t Henry’s, and he imdiately rushed forward. His back blocked the others from seeing her expression.
He felt so concerned. She seed heartbroken.
"What’s the matter?" he whispered, grabbing her hand.
There were plenty of other eyes on them, burning into them curiously, but Irene found herself unable to care. She just needed soone to lean on.
As she lifted her gaze to et his, Irene was shocked to feel tears she had been resisting start to pool in her eyes.
"My father is sick," she gasped quietly.
Irene practically collapsed into Henry at that, and he readily accepted her as he held onto her tightly.
This was when she realized she felt completely and totally safe in his grasp. Safe not only physically but with her heart and emotions. How she had gotten so lucky that this was the first person she had ever fallen for, she was unsure.
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