Hope and Devotion (Chapter One)

Hope and Devotion (Chapter Ten)

"Ah, so you made breakfast?" Rasler took his seat at the table across from Ashe. "Finally making yourself useful, I see."

She frowned and set down a basket of bread. "What do you mean by that?"

"You've been refusing me, Ashelia. It's been over two weeks, and every night you find some way to excuse yourself. You hardly touch me or even speak to me. I'm not stupid." He grabbed a piece of bread, and threw it on his plate.

She looked down at her skirt, "I—you wouldn't understand." Her voice was flat.

"You're right – I don't! You're my wife, Ashe! Aren't we supposed to love each other, to adore each other? And yet I feel like I'm sleeping alone…"

She glared at him, and crossed her arms, "Oh, so because I don't touch you and pleasure you every night, I'm a terrible wife? Is that all I am to you a toy , in which you find your physical pleasure. Why don't you find yourself a whore then, as you did when we were younger? You don't think I know about it?"

Rasler growled. "They weren't whores; they were daughters of diplomats and high ranking servants."

"Even worse. You tarnished their reputations!" she scowled.

"How so? I am a prince. Pleasuring me would mean they get something out of it in return, if anything," he spat back at her. "And what do their reputations have to do with me?"

"Everything! You see - you never considered your women at all! Take me, for instance - you haven't even considered my feelings!" She paused. "Perhaps if you asked me about how I feel, I might treat you more warmly, but no."

He sighed, and sat down, facing her. "Fine then, tell me."

She looked away shamefully, "It's too late for that. You wouldn't understand. It's not like you think anything through." She rose from her chair, and headed out the door without another word. How dare he, treat her in such a way, she was not some courtesan or concubine who sole existence was offering him pleasure. She was his wife, and was to be treated like one; he had promised that she would be his equal.

The door slammed shut behind her, as she left. Tears rolled down Ashe's cheeks as ran through the halls of the labyrinth that was Lowtown. Her stomach growled, as she neglected to eat due to the fight. On the way to the resistance head quarters, she picked up something quick to eat, before she passed out from hunger. Once she arrived at the headquarters, she ate her meager breakfast of bread and yogurt. The room was silent, and empty something that she was grateful for, no one would see her upset about the fight.

Her husband was an idiot for initiating the conflict, if only he had asked her what was wrong, instead of insulting and accusing her then perhaps she would have been so angry. Guilt gnawed at the pit of her stomach, the fight also partially her fault, for she hadn't told him of her worries about the pregnancy.

She still was not sure if she could raise the child even with Rasler's support. The money they had was limited to what they brought, and the jewelry she could sell off. There was much that they needed once she conceived the child a crib, dresser, food, medicine, and a midwife. She also had barely had a clue, as to how to raise a child, babies were a foreign esoteric thing to her. She had younger cousins, and her ladies-in-waiting also had children, but other than that she had no experience with children. There was also the problem with the Resistance; it took a lot of work for her to win their respect as a woman.

The clock struck the hour, soon Ralser would arrive, but she was not ready to face him, not yet. She straitened herself out hoping that Vossler would get here faster.

0o0o0o0o0o

The room was silent, except for Rasler's breathing; he lay on the opposite side of the bed facing away from his wife. Ashe stared up at the ceiling unable to sleep. After the last fight they had hardly spoken in weeks. Their home was filled with a terse silence that they were too stubborn to break.