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Of course, there were rumors about what my family did and what I did. But that was all it was; rumors. They feared me for what they suspected, never mind, it was true.
This book also held assurances, ways that I kept the other families in line. Unlike the average citizen, they knew what I was capable of, and they knew not to piss me off.
Locking it away in my safe, another kept secret from my family, I walked to the dining hall, ready to feast my eyes on my wife again.
Only she wasn’t there. Instead, the room was bare.
“Louise,” I called. My housekeeper, previously my nanny that I brought from Bursia with me, came rushing into the room.
Louise was trustworthy. I didn’t want people in my home that I didn’t trust. I was strongest here, but I was also vulnerable. There was no room for disloyalty when someone could slit my throat as soon as I closed my eyes or poison the food I ate.
I hadn’t been alive for 40 years, by playing fast and loose with my life.
“Have you seen my wife?”
“No, Mr. Galdur.” I shook my head at her formal tone. Despite, how many times I told Louise that it was not necessary, she insisted that she referred to me as such.
I was now the man of the house she said.
“Bring the food to our room,” I said sparing one glance at her before I turned and climbed the stairs.
My wife was still being as stubborn as the day I met her. She was determined to starve herself, but I made no plans to bury my wife in this lifetime or the next.
Jason nodded at me as I entered my room, only to find my wife laying on her back, staring at the ceiling, dried tears on her face and a damp pillow at her head.
“It’s time for dinner,” I said, refraining from sighing at her obvious displeasure.
“I’m not hungry,” she muttered, her voice soft.
“I don’t intend for my wife to die of starvation,” I said sternly, just before a knock was heard at the door.
“Come,” I ordered. Jason held the door, gesturing Louise to enter with a tray in her hands. She placed the two dishes on the small table in front of the fireplace and walked out of the room. Jason shut the room behind her, leaving my wife and I alone again.
She still laid on the bed, refusing to move.
Taking one dish from the table and a fork, I walked to the bed.
“Sit up.”
She looked at me wary but didn’t defy me, crossing her legs in front of her, trying to stop them from touching me as I sat in front of her at the edge of the bed.
I didn’t know what she preferred or liked so I opted for a simple pasta dish. I’m sure she would have little qualms about that.
Gathering a bit of the pasta on the fork, I lifted it to her pierced lips, nudging them open.
“Swallow.”
She chewed and then she gulped.
“Open,” I said, inspecting her mouth to make certain that each shell was on its way to her stomach.
I gathered more pasta on the fork and nudged her mouth open forcing her to chew the flour concoction.
“Swallow.”
I could see the fury dancing in her eyes and how aggressively she chewed that she was not pleased.
I hated to hear that sound -sometimes wanting to gouge Eli’s eyes when he didn’t close his mouth to eat- but somehow, it was amusing watching her small acts of defiance.
