.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.
It's not that I don't wanna stay
But every time you come too close I move away
But if you really want me, move slow
There's things about me you just have to know
Sometimes I run, Sometimes I hide
Sometimes I'm scared of you
But all I really want is to hold you tight
Treat you right, be with you day and night
Baby, all I need is time
— Sometimes by Britney Spears
.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.
The books Cal had brought her from the Doctor's did turn out to be most illuminating. Over the next few days, Gigi found herself unable to put them down. She tried as much as she could to cover all the topics related to her husband's condition, reading them every night before bed.
To be able to treat him better. To understand him better.
It was a mental condition commonly thought to be found in soldiers returning from wars but was later discovered to be occurring in ordinary citizens as well.
Her heart clenched as she learned about the possible causes; combat exposure, childhood abuse, torture, sexual or physical assault, and other life-threatening events. By process of elimination, and Cal's aversion to love-making, it was not difficult to assume which had occurred to him.
Summer was presumed to be a season to spend with family, yet it was becoming less so for royalties. Gigi had never understood the significance, given Praja's climate, but now they got themselves occupied with polo matches and garden parties, luncheon invitations and carnivals.
Children below the age of twelve had no obligation to attend the events, so Junior was quite satisfied to enjoy a tranquil day with his books while Aravin went with Gigi.
Once they found their schedules empty midway through the week—weekends were quite hectic during the summer—Gigi was more than delighted to entertain her husband's invitation to enjoy an afternoon alone.
As soon as they were alone Cal pressed two of his fingers to his own lips before placing them over Gigi's. She let them lingered for a while, kissing his fingers with longing as if they were his lips, before doing the same for him. It was one of the tricks that they had learned to overcome the physical barriers, while still respecting his boundaries.
Gigi knew that while they were both desperate, if not dying, to taste each other's lips once more; she would not risk subjecting him to the physical and mental distress he would potentially have to go through.
The first time he did that, she giggled in delight. It reminded her of being younger in Praja. How adolescents would try to work their way around the physical restrictions between lovers; unlike in Angletonia, unmarried couples in Praja could never go further than having a kiss on the cheek. Even after they were married, they had to keep their displays of affection from the public eyes.
Restrictive, indeed, but modesty was a prominent value back home.
Cal took her to the west wing of the palace, to one of the few chambers that Gigi had never been before.
Gigi stepped into the room, slowly taking in the interior. It was twice as big as her own room and the one Cal shared with Junior. The design mirrored Cal's room, though his room was polished in white and faint shades of grey while this had more earth tones, with big curtains covering the massive frameless glass window.
"This room belonged to my parents. Having separate bedrooms among spouses had been the tradition in the Angletonian upper class since the older days, so it was quite something when they decided to break the norm back in the day." Cal explained, closing the blackwood door behind them.
Gigi's parents also had separate bedrooms in Praja, but his father had mistresses, making the idea improbable.
"I have been using my current bedroom since my bachelor days, and after the—" He paused, avoiding some painful details he wished not to mention. "—after Junior was born, I moved back into that room. So this room had been untouched ever since my father's passing."
"It does feel kind of lonely in here," Gigi remarked, noting that while the room had been kept neat, clean, and extravagantly luxurious; the atmosphere was empty and lifeless. Approaching the windows, she parted the curtains, revealing a full view of the city.
"They said it was designed so the Emperor and the Empress could gaze down on their empire," Cal humoured.
"Obviously." She tilted her head with a grin, fascinated at how he referred to them in third person.
There was a huge portrait of his parents in the bed-chamber and she stopped to stare at it. Callisto looked happier than in any photographs she'd ever seen him in, and Estelle was beaming. It made her compare the couple to the state that she and her husband were in; would they ever be like them... loving each other with no burden?
"I guess you would find it cozy enough to stay in, then? It is the same as yours, but it has two separate dressing rooms and it's connected to a few other rooms nearby, a private servants quarter and the nursery. So you can keep your ladies close, in times of need."
"S-Stay in?" She repeated, unsure if she heard it correctly.
Cal gave her a deep nod. "While I cannot get intimate with you yet, I would still like to sleep with you." He flashed her a tender smile. "Would you share a room with me, Gi? Embracing the new norms of the modern world?"
Placing both hands over her mouth, Gigi's eyes glistened with tears, touched by his attempts. How he had always pushed himself to get better, be better, and do better. For her, and also for Junior.
"Yes," she whispered.
"I'm sorry that it took so long."
"You do not apologize for it. No, you shall never have to apologize for what you suffered, Sire."
"We should hang our portrait too," he suggested as she turned in his arms, facing the portrait again.
"I'd love that." Her eyes were filled with emotions. "I love it. We shall wait for these chambers to be prepared and have our things moved. You should also tell Junior."
"Junior will be made aware when the arrangements are final. For now, I would say that I had arranged playdates with you. Honestly, I think he would take the news gladly. I didn't know what happened but he looks displeased with sharing a room with me, as of late." He admitted, making Gigi giggle. "It would take at least a couple of weeks to do that. But before it's done, I wouldn't mind staying in your chambers."
"You would do that, Sire?"
"It's about time I give you what is long overdue. I want to share my nights with you, and I wish that to be as soon as tonight."
Gigi's heart burst with happiness.
***
Gigi put a lot of thought into preparing herself for her husband's visit that night. Normally, a wife would try to make herself as alluring as possible, to entice their husbands into worldly pleasures in the warmth of their bed. But none of that was going to happen tonight. He would spend the night with her—sleep with her—but no more.
Nevertheless, she still felt the need to make herself look presentable. She brushed her hair a bit more than it needed brushing and applied a lip balm on her lips. Although she wasn't going to try to get a kiss from him, she liked how it had the effect of moistening and plumping her lips.
She had chosen a moderately modest nightgown; silk, ankle-length, bias cut with a frilly neckline in the shade of an eggshell. No cleavage, but a flattering silhouette nonetheless.
Her handmaidens stared with amazement when he arrived as if he was a god descending from the heavens. Even though he did, in fact, stay a couple of nights in her chambers during his birthday, they still thought of him as 'he-who-won't-share-his wife's-bed'.
"You look lovely," was his first words upon seeing her.
"Mmm," She hummed in response as he buried his nose in her hair. His arms were already around her, and hers on his back. They lingered like that for a little while in their little, perfect, silent bliss.
"I've only realized that we don't have many moments like this, you know. A private moment between husband and wife, behind closed doors."
Gigi nodded in acknowledgement, not denying that most of their interactions, even the raunchy ones were mostly spent outdoors. "It's better late than never." She broke from his arms a little to look upon his face. "Shall we get to bed? Are you tired already?"
"No," He answered instantly, like a reflex. "I do not want this night to be over quickly, Gi. We can do other things— we can talk!" He suggested in a cheerful tone.
There weren't many words exchanged between them that night, because even though they were more than happy to entertain a compelling conversation, it ended up with them just touching and caressing each other's faces; stroking and running their fingers through each other's hair.
Until they both surrendered to exhaustion and dozed off in each other's arms.
Or at least wished so.
It had not been a couple of hours since they drifted off when a hard, urgent ringing came from the doorbell.
Gigi squinted her eyes, reaching for the night switch, still engulfed by her drowsiness. "Dian, what is it? We were fast asleep—"
"...It's me." The voice from behind the door replied. "Désolée, Cal, c'est une urgence!"
"Philippe?" Cal rose and abruptly left the bed, yanking his robes from the hanger and throwing them on himself, heading for the door.
Gigi didn't try to find out more about the matter, curling up into the cushions of her bed. Her husband would come back, she was sure. He would be back after he finished talking and hold her in his arms again.
As he did come back, he a piece of news that she hadn't expected.
"I must leave for the north, to Archambault."
"...Why?"
"They seem to be having trouble executing the plan for Seol-il. It sort of went sideways. The local authorities have been nosy, so I must go and see to it myself."
"Very well then. You must get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow, we shall—"
"No, I must leave tonight. I've been planning this for two years, Gi, now I cannot let it fall into ruin. I must see my men."
"You're going to Seol-il? But that would mean that you..." Then it hit her, all the plans that he'd unspoiled yesterday in his office. "Sire, what if you get caught? Then a war—!"
"There won't be a war and they can't touch me." Cal looked around, making sure that no one's heard her. "Gi, could you keep your voice down, please?"
"Yet," she frowned. "No, you shall not go. It's too dangerous! You will be in the middle of a catastrophe! I cannot let you, Sire, no."
His expression grew heavy. "Darling, please. Don't make this any harder on me. I will be alright. I will not be in the middle of anything. I would just see to it so they would do as instructed."
"No, no, no. I beg you, Sire, please!" She threw herself onto her knees. "Please, I beg of you."
His lips curled into a frown. He got down to her level, offering her his hand. "Rise, Gi. No Empress of Angletonia should be begging on her knees."
"Then don't make me," she whispered.
"What is it that you're so worried about, hmm? That I will be swept over my the landslide? I promise you, that will not happen, no one in the crew would be happy to see me die."
She blinked her eyes at him, the sleepiness made them dry. She would rather be crying right now. "Are you certain?"
"I'm positive. If I perish, then everything would be for nought. They would not have the resources, the gold, the weapons. I will survive and come back to you, I promise."
She wasn't sure if it was the tiredness wearing her out, suddenly she felt that it would be easier just to give in and believe in his words.
"...You promise?"
Cal never broke his promises. He never lied.
She came with him to see Junior one last time before he went. The boy was deep in slumber but nodded in compliance as his father pressed a kiss to his brow and bid him goodbye.
Gigi intended to stay with him tonight, in case he reacted with shock to the news when he awoke. It would be better to have her console him than the maids.
As far as she knew, he had never been separated from his father before.
She looked down from the windows of Junior's room as her husband went down to the terrace in his military uniform, waiting for the car to fetch him.
Cal turned around to face the window as if knowing by instinct that she would be up there watching him.
Gigi's heart skipped a beat as he mouthed two full words, before pressing his fingers to his lips and waving them at her with a smile.
But it was not simply an 'I love you' that made her vision swim in happy tears. It was in another language, her mother tongue. One that she understood well. Any Prajan would.
'Aku mencintaimu'.
.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.
Just hang around and you'll see
There's nowhere I'd rather be
If you love me, trust in me
The way that I trust in you
.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.