Petrea nó Cereus read the letter again. The words never changed but, every time she read them, the knot in her stomach grew.
Petrea,
The situation in the Judiciary grows dire. Your absence as Second of Cereus House is no longer feasible. I need you here. You must return home immediately.
-Aliks
So, the decision had been made for her. Her Dowayne was demanding her come home. In some ways, it was a relief. She no longer had to decide whether or not to confess her unhappiness to Marco and return to the City of Elua of her own accord or continue to struggle for happiness here in Tiberium. It was done. But still, she had to tell him she would be leaving. Thus, the growing knot in her belly. The fear of his reaction. The worry of her future with him – or without him.
Marco walked into the bedroom where she sat on the bed, still clutching the letter. She turned towards him and, hands shaking, held out the parchment. He looked at her questioningly, but took the page and read it.
“So, you’re to leave then?” he said simply.
Petrea nodded, staring at her hands, unable to look at him.
He sighed and sat down next to her on the bed. “I’m honestly surprised it took this long. The letter must have been delayed,” he mused absently.
He continued gently. “Darling, we both heard the rumors in Aragonia and the same rumors still come from Terre D’Ange. Aliks’s letters continue to mention the trade guild fights and her fears for Cereus House.”
He tipped her chin up, looking into her eyes. “And don’t think I don’t know you’re unhappy.”
She started to respond, but her words died on her tongue.
“You may think you’re hiding it well, but I know you very well, my love. You’re not the vibrant woman I knew in Terre d’Ange. Your eyes don’t sparkle as they once did. You don’t belong here.”
He traced a line at the base of her neck where he knew the finial of her marque lay. He knew the lines by heart. “You cannot live a life where you have to hide this. I am not ashamed of you and I cannot keep you to a life of shame. And besides that, you, my dearest, would never be content being a Tiberian trader’s wife. You would never be content being a Tiberian anything. I should have known in Amílcar that this was a fool’s errand.”
“Amílcar?” Petrea was confused. “What does Amílcar have to do with anything?”
Marco burst out laughing. “You took a patron for the price of room and board! But I suspect you would have gone to him for free.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “You are a Servant of Naamah and was a fool to think that would change if I took you away with me. It’s time to go, love.”
Petrea blinked back the tears that had been threatening to fall. When she spoke, her words came out barely above a whisper. “You’re right, but what of us? I truly do love you.”
“And I you. But that won’t stop simply because you no longer travel with me. Or live in Tiberium with me. You don’t have to be my wife for us to love each other. After all, I’ve been your patron for years.” Marco shrugged. “So I’ll continue to be your patron and your lover.”
“As simply as that?” She was stunned; her tears suddenly forgotten.
“Yes. As simply as that.”
“You would simply have me go back to the City of Elua and return to Naamah’s service, knowing that I will be taking other patrons? You nearly tore your hair out over the Marqués in Amílcar!”
“I know,” he chuckled. “And that’s when I began to doubt this arrangement, as I said. I spent many hours that night thinking about how our life would be if we wed, if you could be happy with this. I thought that, if you were happy in Tiberium, then it would mean a marriage could work. But you aren’t and it won’t. You need to go back to the City of Elua and be a proper Servant of Naamah.”
She gave a long sigh. “This is not how I expected this conversation to go.”
He frowned. “You expected I would be what? Angry? Devastated? Dejected?”
She shook her head. “Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I don’t know. I certainly didn’t expect you to just kiss me on the cheek and send me away!”
He drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “I’m not sending you away. I’m agreeing that you should go home. You simply forgot to ask me whether or not I thought you should.”