Wife of Vladimir ||Book One||

Her Caring Nature

"My sickness continued to keep me in our bedroom. The days passed by slowly and there weren't any signs that I was getting better. I never dared complain about it or bring it up, especially not in front of Rosetta. I didn't want to risk her getting upset with me again. My daily comfort was when Rosetta brought more books to read.

We had fallen into habit soon enough, with her taking over all of my duties. She had long learned how I liked to reply to things and no longer needed my exact words. I trusted her enough and we both thought it was best for my recovery that I only focus on getting better rather than continuing to try and work. Yet, she only got busier from there.

Our schedule suddenly became the same each and every day. Early in the morning, we would awake to the sound of my choking and Rosetta would rise shortly after. She'd dress behind the divider, telling me that she'd let me watch when I got better, after a quick bath. She'd tend to me and help me sit upright in the bed. She'd comb my hair back then make her side of the bed before meeting the servants at the door with breakfast. She'd help them set it up, then would return to our bed. She would eat, and help me at times, and we would talk.

I'd long stopped apologizing for waking her up during this time. I knew she wouldn't be helping me if she didn't want to. She made sure I knew that.

During the first few days of our routine, I repeatedly apologized.

'I'm sorry you wed a sick man, Rosetta. I wish you would have found a stronger husband than I. I'm sorry you have to tend to all my needs. I'm practically useless to you now.' In those moments, I remember Caelum from Invea. Could he have given her a better life than I did?

While it took her a moment to think of a reply, she didn't disappoint. 'Vladimir, my love, when we wed I promised to take care of you in sickness and in health. I won't be giving up on you during a time like this.' It was all said with the softest voice imaginable, a smile painted lovingly across her lips.

It brought me a wave of comfort I had yet to experience. It momentarily numbed the pain within my chest and I wholeheartedly believed her. So, I never apologized again.

After breakfast, Rosetta would gather the dishes and help the servants with returning them. She would then go to the library and gather three or four more books for me, returning to our room shortly after and handing them over. Her most recent task for me was to try reading again. I would only get several pages in before my eyes would begin to ache, but she pushed me. I was supposed to read one page more than I had the day before. It helped a little, but not much for me to want it. Yet, it was what she asked of me. If it would make her happy, and make the time go by quicker, I'd do anything.

Rosetta would kiss my head and I'd hold her hand to try and keep her with me for as long as possible before she was forced to leave, left only with the small declarations of her love.

I would get through half of the book before she returned to our room for supper. I was thankful that Rosetta ate all her meals with me in our bed. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make me look forward to certain parts of the day. I enjoyed every moment I spent with her.

When we were finished eating, she'd return the books I didn't read and ask what I thought of the one I did read. Rosetta would get us ready for bed afterwards, falling asleep after kissing me goodnight.

I was lucky to have her.

She was a shooting star in a black night sky, or the reddest rose in a meadow of weeds. Rosetta was like the first rain after a year long drought, or like the first sight of land after sailing for months with no end.

What surprised me the most was that I was the one that was able to stare upon her in the night while she slept. I got to be the one that caressed her face in the most intimate moments of passion. I got to be the one that saw her in all lights. I got to be the one that saw her smiles and heard her laughter.