Her Darling Husband

Sleep did not come easily to Rhea that night. In fact, sleep did not come to her at all.

With a pained moan, the young woman sat up in her bed and wiped away the tears that had slid down the side of her face and pooled in her ears.

Her throat burned, fiercer than it had only a few hours ago and it had gotten to a point where she could not turn her head to the side without experiencing nauseating pain.

It was at that moment, the glow-in-the-dark numbers on her clock reading '3:15 am', that she regretted not giving in when Augustus offered to call a doctor.

Rhea raised shaky fingers to her neck and felt around the bruised area, only to flinch back at the rawness of the worryingly swollen skin.

As quickly as she could, she shoved aside her duvet and clambered out of her bed, swaying when her feet hit the carpet and a sudden lightheaded feeling came over her.

It was a struggle, navigating through the dark while her body trembled from the pain but she finally made it to the bathroom, only to freeze at the sight of her tub.

White and claw-footed, it had once been one of Rhea's places to relax after a stressful day of being wife and Countess, second to her garden, but now, the sight of it stole her breath and left her trembling as she clutched onto the doorframe for support.

"It is just a tub," Rhea mumbled as she shuffled deeper into the room, with small, timid steps and wide eyes staring at the inanimate object, as if expecting it to move and drag her under its warm spray.

"It can not hurt you," she declared to both herself and the innocent tub with as much bravery as she could inject into her voice, drawing closer to the wash basin, by the large mirror.

The cold of the ceramic caressed her finger as Rhea finally arrived at her destination. Her eyes widened in horror, tears pooling in them, at the sight of her once swanlike neck.

It was inflamed and had grown by nearly half its original size, in the shape of Lonan's hands. Purple and blue covered her neck, and her face had an unusual flush to it like she was straining.

The skin around her eyes was covered with a scattering of red dots and the white of her eyes looked like red ink had been smeared on it.

The uncanny contrast of red on her bright blue eyes had Rhea hyperventilating and wrenching her eyes away from the grotesque image of herself.

"By the Gods, Lonan, what have you done to me?" She wailed, as she turned on the faucet and began splashing the cold water on her tears-soaked face, her crying increased when she registered just how raspy and bruised her voice sounded.

Through trembling sobs, Rhea reached for the fluffy hand towel hanging in the corner, wet it in the running water and wrapped it around her neck with a soft hiss and a hiccup.

The cold towel against her burning neck was a relief that almost brought tears to her eyes as she let out a small sigh. And while it did not completely take away the pain, it was the best she could do until morning came.

All done, Rhea turned off the running water and made her way back into her bedroom, to try and get some sleep, only to freeze at the figure standing by her empty bed and looking down at where she usually slept.

Her first reaction was fear, despite knowing the Manor was too secure for a stranger to waltz in as they pleased, let alone make it to the private wing where their rooms were located.

The figure lifted its head and turned in her direction, causing her to startle.

He spoke before she could make a run for it and barricade herself in the bathroom.

"Rhea," Lonan called out through the dark, his voice tinged with amusement at her skittish behaviour.

Rhea tried to speak, ask him why he was in her room so late, but her voice refused to go higher than a whisper so she was forced to walk up to him, even as her muscles tensed with with fear.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded as she took a seat on her bed, one hand holding the towel in place.

It was too dark to see but Rhea could sense the frown on the lips.

"I was worried about you," he answered, snappily as he flung the objects in his hand, on the bed, causing Rhea to flinch.

"So worried," he continued as he walked over to the light switch and turned it on, causing brightness to flood into the room, "that it robbed me of my sleep and I had to make sure you were okay. And what do I get for my efforts?"

Rhea kept silent, as he made his way back to her, distracted by the items scattered on her bed.

"Your sass." He finished, weakly, all quarrel leaving him at the sight of her.

"You b-brought these for me?" She rasped, with as much of a smile as she could muster when she was in so much pain.

The robe-clad man glanced at the ointment, pills and bandages with a careless look then back to her. "I did."

"Thank you...."

"Felicity insisted on it, dramatic as ever, even as I told her you were fine and it was nothing but minor bruising," he complained with a tired sigh as he took a seat beside her and laid back down on the bed.

Rhea's smile dropped and she stared at her husband, who was without a single care, his eyes closed, the opposite of sleep-robbing worry, as he had claimed.

She turned to the tray resting on her nightstand that had a jug of water and a cup, and it dawned on her that Felicity had probably been the one robbed of sleep, and had decided to wake Lonan from his peaceful slumber and force him to care for his bruised wife.

Quietly, Rhea unwrapped the towel from her neck and began treating herself, unaware of Lonan, who was observing her.

"Lord Holloway will be leaving today," he suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence of the room.

"I know, he informed me of his departure after," she left it at that, the bandages she wound around her neck enough indication of what 'after' meant.

"He seems fond of you, obsessed even," commented Lonan as he took the bandages from Rhea's and helped her continue wrapping them. "It is a bad look for a man of his standing to be that way towards a married woman." He added bitterly.

The last thing Rhea wanted was Lonan's hands anywhere near her neck and it could be seen in the stiffness of her back and her clenched hands but Lonan was not one to take notice of things that were not to his benefit.

"He is known to be a just man to all people, so it should not be a surprise that he stepped in and protected me."

"You do not need him protecting you," Lonan hissed with a harsh tug at the fabric, causing Rhea to cry out at the flare of pain it caused and flinch, violently.

"Especially not from me," he added as he tucked the edge of the bandage and placed a kiss on her chin, right above the wrapped bruising.

She shivered, in disgust and fear but Rhea told herself it was the coldness of his lips as she endured the touch.

Lonan must have mistaken it for pleasure because his kisses turned to nibbles as one hand grabbed hold of her right thigh while the other trailed up the curve of her waist, slowly moving higher and higher.

"What are you doing?" Rhea demanded as she caught his hand before it could grab her breast, turning to fix him with a heavy frown.

Lonan pulled away from her chin with a confused scrunch of his brows, her refusal almost as rare as his sexual attraction towards her.

"It has been weeks....."

"Four months," she corrected, casually.

"Four months," he repeated with a small laugh, seemingly amused by how matter-of-fact she sounded. "I assumed you would want to, especially after the events of today."

Rhea's incredulity could not be captured by words. Lonan had a funny way of censoring out the parts of people, and the world in general, he did not wish to see, but this was a level of self-centred stupidity she had never witnessed before.

"By the look on your face, I am guessing my advances are not welcome," he noted as he pulled away, prompting her to fix whatever 'look' she had on her face.

Rhea was tired, both emotionally and physically as the painkillers started working, allowing exhaustion to creep, and all she wanted him gone from her bed.

So, with as much patience as she could muster, she turned around to face him fully and asked.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you here?"

Lonan played with a strand of her hair that had fallen out of her clumsy braid, his face heavy with thought.

"I want my wife back." He finally confessed, as if the Rhea seated in front of him was nothing but the ghost of the wife he had lost.

"I want us back."