The Alexstons Escape

The rooms seemed to be made of glass. Reflecting the tranquility of the sea, they were airy and bright by day, and calm and lulling by night. Today had been the beach party. The civilians of what was the Varana province, but was now Alexston (or rather, Alexstonia, as the couple mockingly called it), were still indulging in revelry, and the windows were lit with the warm glow of bonfires further down the coast.

It had been a flurry of parties, convenient surfaces and quiet moments. Samuel had interacted well with everyone he met, his initial social status endearing him to what was, essentially, a community of farmers and small-town folk. The various smaller nobles were handled by the Advisor, and in the process, she uncovered a certain gem of a girl she intended to bring back with her to the city. Lyriel would prove a fine asset to Nharati, she was quite sure.

As it stood, their revelry had ended at sunset. Within the candlelit space of the drawing room, they were reclined quite comfortably where they'd spent themselves. She had dressed in fuschia gauze for the event, darker where there were more layers, and paler where there were fewer. As it stood, the once floor-length design had been drawn up for 'convenience', and one pale leg draped off the divan with a dark cherry heel still attached. The other, unsurprisingly, was quite comfortably tucked behind the leather clad thigh of the husband still draped over her.

He was nestled comfortably against her chest and turning his gaze to stare toward the darkened window whenever those eyes just so happened to stay open. Fingers affectionately stroked her abdomen, and it was then that Sam realized, not for the first time, just how remarkable everything was.

"How long do we have left here, Eave?" he asked her quietly, once things had settled enough for cognisant thought and conversation. Voice was little more than a low hum giving insight into his thoughts. His desire to go back to Nharati became less and less, despite knowing that eventually they'd have to. Drawing a breath, he tilted his head upward and placed a light kiss against her chin. "I think they're celebrating without us," he observed with a roguish grin.

The Advisor settled her hand over the back of his neck once he decided to rest, stroking absently whilst she looked out of the window at the distant glow of bonfires. "A month, darling, and then we ought to go back," which gave her no pleasure. It felt much like it had when she had been happy with Violet; yearning to stay longer, whilst duty and oppression called from a grey city that so often struck misery into the hearts of those residing there. "Let them," she answered, smiling some and settling more comfortably, one leg still draped off the divan itself. "It's far more pleasant to know that there'll be another party tomorrow, and that we're missing nothing." Another stark contrast to Nharati, where the events were mandatory, dramatic and generally ugly.

"That's true," he answered, eyes turning downwards to her stomach, which by that point was slightly curved, though certainly didn't seem to be as rounded as a woman at three months ought to be. He sighed, and settled himself in more against her. "God, Eave, I don't want to go."

"No," she agreed, lips lifting to place a light kiss at his brow. "Neither do I. But it's a month. Let's not worry until it's a day."

God help them whenever that day came, whenever they had to pack up and go back, whenever the idyllic escape was over. No doubt they'd come back all smiles and insufferable gushing, but it'd fade.

For now, the bonfires were still alight, and the sea was still right outside the windows. They knew nothing of dead servants, or crossroads, or just what they'd come home to.