Paul had visions of the future, of course he did. He was born from the womb of a Bene Gesserit, it was written for him to be plagued with uncertain dreams of the future. Despite said dreams, he did not foresee the tension that would hang over the empty kitchen like a virulent fog this evening.

The silence is almost deafening beside the soft patting of the rain on the windows. It followed your leave and chased you out the door. He had never seen you so pissed, for a lack of better word. Sure, he had snapped at you in a moment of indignation, a heated exchange of words the rising duke should have picked better. But he never thought he'd see you cuss him out the way you had earlier, your voice sharp with what could have been contempt.

Two years of marriage, and he'd never heard you spit out such expletives, some of which he wasn't even sure he'd ever heard in such a colorful arrangement. Leaning against the counter you abandoned him at, he comes to the realization that he had wholly and utterly fucked up.

He didn't mean to accuse you of infidelity, but the threat of an imperial war, the days he spent delegating, your absence for your own obligations---all of it left him frayed. It was a mere slip of his tongue, a voice of his doubts and his restless mind, which, in all his overthinking, had spun up the idea that you could have possibly been seeing another amidst his lack of attention for you.

A fool's words, truly, he thinks as he rubs his face, trying to work the weariness out of his eyes. He pushes the inky curls from his forehead and sighs, staring at the doorway you left through. Paul is a prideful man, stubborn at heart, but not even his sharp mind could keep his heart from cursing him out at the damage's he's done to his marriage.

He pushes away from the counter and leaves the kitchen, scaling the ebony stairs and arduously approaches the bedroom door, which is cracked open. He takes a breath and silently enters the room, catching sight of you sitting on the edge of the bed, back facing him. He realizes with a wince that you are staring down at a framed photo from the day of your wedding.