the wooden floor beneath your bare feet is cold. quietly, you open the office door, you find that it’s equally quiet in there also.

your husband, cardan, sits at the desk meticulously writing something on a stack of papers. you sigh and pull down the hem of your nightdress attempting to gather warmth to your exposed legs.

you walk to the desk where he sits, placing your hand on his shoulder lightly. “will you come to bed soon?”

one of his hands finds your own, twining them together. “soon, yes.”

you inhale sharply. “how soon? you’ve been working for hours.”

“as soon as I can, darling.”

you frown and exhale. “you haven’t been to bed with me, in general in weeks.”

his gaze does not stray far from the papers. “I know…”