Vanity, valor, veracity

Chapter 6

He awoke hours later from a deep yet comforting sleep to a dull early morning light and a soft tapping at the French doors. Morgana had risen to whisper to whom he only assumed was her maid, Millie, at the door. He kept his eyes closed and only heard fragments.

"...went to church-you need to come soon-Reglitt's gone with his lordship ... I'll be outside."

He heard the door to the office open and close. Still thinking him asleep, Morgana knelt down next to the bed and stroked his forehead softly, pushing a few stray blond hairs back.

"Commander," she whispered. "I'm sorry-but I need to leave..." He finally opened his eyes. She was smiling softly at him, a wistfulness written across her features. "You don't have to rush-no one comes in before noon. Please-sleep. Millie will be by to tidy up later."

She started to get up but he grabbed her and pulled her down and into his arms. She allowed him to kiss her deeply but then pulled away.

"I do need to leave-but thank you for that," she said, smiling and patting his cheek.

He watched her rise. She was wearing his shirt that reached almost to her knees, an image he knew he wouldn't soon forget. For some reason, he could only stare as she started to dress, saying nothing. She struggled a bit with her bustier and he sat up and said, "Here, let me..." She crouched beside the bed as he fastened the hooks in the back, lifting her hair to give her shoulder a gentle kiss. She pulled on her blouse quickly buttoning it up.

After she had tucked it into her skirt and retrieved her sash and shoes, she once again knelt next to him, gently caressing his cheek, studying his face.

"Please," she finally said softly. "I'm usually not one to make demands, but please don't die."

"I'll do my best..." he turned his head to kiss her palm. "This is goodbye, then?" he asked. She nodded, but before she could move away he caught on to her hand. "Before you leave-you said when I saw you last that you'd be safe... what did you mean? How are you certain?"

She paused and then laid a hand on her stomach. "This is how... he never touched me when I was carrying Mila-so I feel fairly certain-for at least the next seven months or so..."

He suddenly understood. She was carrying another child.

"I know I should hate it," she whispered, her eyes dropping in shame. "But I can't." She stood up. "So you see-I'll be fine."

She gave him one last smile, her eyes filled with warmth. And then she left him, softly closing the doors behind her.

***

He found himself thinking about her more than he should. Her sweetness, her serenity. They had had a magical evening together and his mind couldn't help but circle back there. It left him with a warm feeling, a feeling of wanting more. But he knew that one night was all they'd ever have.

More than once, though, his soldiers found him staring out a window when they entered his office, instead of poring over the paperwork on his desk as he usually did. Or when they'd digress in a meeting to a tangential topic, how his eyes would cloud over in a daydream as they bickered.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" said Mike one day about two weeks later. The two of them were in Erwin's office supposedly reading over some documents delivered earlier, but Mike had looked up to see the commander had zoned out. "What's more-you've been thinking about her ever since you went to that performance."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Erwin sternly, his eyes coming back into focus. "Thinking about who?" he lamely offered.

"Oh, come off it, Erwin. Don't play dumb with me. I know something happened between you two. Just how often it's happening, I'm not sure. But I can tell you it sure as shit makes me nervous."