Chapter 15: Trust Issues Are Hard to Overcome (5)

Skimming through a herbology book, Naavah raised her eyes to read another title. She loved touching the covers before picking them up, for it always gave her a little peace of mind.

Another title brought her attention, being one of the very few relevant volumes for a herbalist of a higher level. She picked it up and placed it on top of the stack she had already made.

Since yesterday, she wanted to bring the books that made sense in her research to her second office. This time, she was mostly interested in literature about herbology, economics, and curses. Despite Julian’s agreement and willingness to help her, she still wanted to be a part of unraveling and perhaps lifting that one obstacle to a normal life. It was, therefore, self-explanatory that she put in her best effort.

After she finished gathering all books she found to be of help, she then exited the main library through the door that led to the storage room. Without receiving her pendant yet, she had to use a small trolley to carry them. And she didn’t mind it. In this way, she could become familiar with Fyodor’s manor.

Linda was following her from behind, having the key prepared. She didn’t ask any questions and did what her lady told her. However, she still read some of the titles and came to know what Naavah would study, even though they were only the titles of the economics books. She smiled slightly, without being noticed, rejoicing that her master would finally make a name for herself soon.

The first time Naavah entered her second office, she had already chosen it to be her main study room. It was cozy, with only a desk and five cupboards at hand. A few blank parchments and sheets of paper were already waiting for her on the desk. She found a pen and other pieces of paper in one of the drawers. To her, it seemed that Fyodor had already assigned someone to prepare the room before her arrival. Or, at least, before she stepped into the office.

She dragged the chair for herself to sit in, snapped her fingers, and proceeded with the reading. Taking the books about curses, she set them next to her on the desk. She was eager and impatient because she had the possibility again of attempting to do research about her curse. She believed that, with Julian’s assistance, she might be able to finally accomplish her most ardent wish from so many years ago; that is, lifting her curse.

She stayed there for the rest of the day, reading and making notes about everything she thought was significant or useful to her study. Linda brought her lunch, tea, and dinner, making sure her lady could work quietly. Not before nightfall, the maid left her and went to her room on the first floor. Naavah didn't even notice because she was so preoccupied with her reading.

Only a few knocks on the door before midnight made her flinch.

“Am I disturbing you?”

Hearing a low-pitched voice, she raised her head and saw Fyodor sticking his head through the cracked door, quickly observing every detail of the room. With parted lips, she shook her head.

“Can I enter, then?”

"Of course you can! Don’t be silly," she said, frowning, as she tried to understand why he asked that.

"Everyone said you spent the entire day here. I thought you had important business to do, and I didn’t want to interrupt," he explained, rubbing his head in embarrassment and smiling.

“I was,” she began to respond to him but suddenly remembered the books that were wide open on her desk. Closing all of them with quick moves, which made Fyodor blink a few times in astonishment, she then continued, “I was just reading.”

Not only the books about curses made her do something so reckless in front of him, but the economics books made her feel embarrassed as well. He would not have any good impression upon seeing her reading those, she thought.

“What were the books you read about?”

“Oh, uhm,” she began, lowering her gaze and frowning, thinking of a good answer that would make him let go of it.

Seeing that she was reluctant, he continued,

“I saw you had some economics books. Are you interested in the subject?”

“Well,” she said, biting her bottom lip.

It was true that she was afraid that he would judge her harshly for reading those books, likely believing that she knew nothing about the subject. And then there were the volumes about curses too that she didn’t want to tell him about just yet. However, if she says nothing, he would be more curious and, therefore, would enter her office while she is asleep and look into everything.

“And then he would start asking more questions, and I wouldn’t be able to choose the right time to tell him about the curse,” she thought.

“I know I should take my responsibilities as the lady of the house,” she spoke plainly, tightening her lips.

“Don’t bother with it yet. You need time to adapt to this new life,” he said tenderly, with a smile on his face.

“Thank you for your consideration, but I still think that I should start from somewhere.”

"Indeed, you're not wrong," he approved, chuckling and nodding his head, and then fell deep into his thoughts.

He then suddenly left the room, making Naavah’s heart beat even faster. While he was gone, she took all the books about curses and locked them in one of the drawers. When he returned, he placed a few books on her desk, pointing at each one of them while explaining,

“Here are a few volumes that helped me. They still do. This one's for beginners, while the others are harder to understand but not impossible.”

She looked at each volume, picked one up, and opened it at its table of contents. Nodding her head, she bit her lower lip and then licked the upper one.

“Thank you. These should be of help. What’s that one about?” she asked after raising her eyes, staring at the book he had in his hand.

“This is the book I read. Military strategies. It’s newly released, and the king told me it contains valuable information.” Seeing her tilting her head, he then asked his most wished question, “Would you like me to accompany you tonight?”

Naavah smiled, nodded her head, and opened the economics book she was reading. Bringing a chair from another room, Fyodor sat across from her.

After almost two hours of silence, in which they both read without interrupting the other, Fyodor was the first one who raised his head to look at her. Seeing his wife so engrossed in what she was doing, a faint smile crossed his lips without him realizing it.

To him, she was pleasant company. Until that moment, only Samuel, his butler, stayed with him late at night, reading and doing other tasks, offering him peace of mind.

“How about dinner?” he suddenly asked in keenness.

“I eat it already.”

Noticing that he was troubled by something, she watched him closely. He seemed to be flustered again, like he wanted to say something but didn't know how to. Pursing her lips, she said the only thing that came to her mind,

“How about tea? It would soothe us before sleep,” she said in a faint voice, thinking that maybe he wanted to spend some time together.

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When his face lightened up, she was sure of it and smiled broadly.

They were both quiet as they made their way to the first floor. There was no sound other than the crickets in the wide hall, and Naavah sighed deeply in frustration. What she found was not enough.

She managed to better understand the basics of curses and how they could be inflicted on someone. Moreover, she read that the sorcerer can hide a curse through other spells, marks, or even magical ointments. Those kinds of ointments were pretty expensive and complex to make, but they could cover any sign, mark, or wound with ease. She tried to remember if she had ever used an ointment or if someone else had used it on her. But she had no such memories, so she scratched that line from the notes for Julian.

“You have never come out from the center of the second floor, right?”

Turning her head to the side where Fyodor was, she shook her head.

“It should be interesting then. See that door from the left? That leads to the west wing.”

She glanced to her left side and then continued to come down the numerous stairs in front. Torches from the stone walls illuminated the great hall, aiding her sight. There was no furniture, only a dark carpet on the marble floor.

When she went down the last stair, she saw a room to her right.

“That is the meeting room. Having so many official guests often, I thought I should need one. I simply don’t want strangers to come upstairs if it is not necessary,” he said, shrugging. “Come. The kitchen is in front.”

At one moment, she saw the front door of this manor, and before she could make another step, Fyodor took her gently by the arm and led her to a room to the left.

There was a massive, wide table in the right corner, around which there were chairs of the same color. To the left were a big oven and another table with various kitchen tools, such as pots, kettles, frying pans, cauldrons of various sizes, knives, ladles, stirring spoons, and others.

Seeing them, the wood cabinet back to her uncle’s household for these tools flashed through her mind.

“Maybe we can make one as well. It would be easier to access, and it would look better.”

While she was observing her surroundings, Fyodor already had placed two clean cups on the table and put water mixed with some herbs to boil in the oven. He was silently watching her, noticing each change in her facial expressions, rummaging whether she was pleased or not. It was common sense that once a man married a woman, she would be in charge of the household and make changes throughout his property according to her preferences. However, he, along with the others, was patient with it because their wedding took place three days ago. She needed time to adapt.

After the tea was ready, he poured it into the cups and gestured for her to sit at the table. He took out his long pipe and pressed down the tobacco leaves in its bowl before lighting it up. The smoke was drawn into his mouth slowly, letting him feel its taste and calm his nerves.

And he was indeed tensed. After all, neither of them admitted their feelings toward each other, despite spending the first night. He understood, however, that she was a quiet, reserved, and shy person but still thoughtful and fair. After she asked him to fix her errors the day before, he was hopeful that she was not like the bothersome women he had met and heard about throughout the years.

Looking at her, he licked his lips and spoke in a soft tone,

“Do you like it? Here, I mean.”

“Yes. Getting from one place to another is still a bit difficult for me, but I'll get used to the manor soon enough. Also, thank you for setting up my second office for me! I was sure that it was you who made it possible for me to use it.”

“Well, what can I say? I saw how shy you were back when we met at your uncle’s mansion and thought you would need it,” he said with a faint smile, exhaling a puff of smoke.

They continued to talk about how their day was. While Fyodor told her about other documents he took care of and a few visits he made in the village, the smoke from his pipe filled the room. The flames of the candles were the only source of light, making the atmosphere seem more intimate.

It was true that they were still strangers in a way, but the time they spent together was always with a purpose; the beginning of a life together. Unspoken words and unseen glances toward each other helped them to learn about each other's feelings and demeanor and to spark their curiosity for one another.

Seeing that she had finished her tea, Fyodor smiled faintly and looked up at her with excitement in his eyes. He rose up from his seat and opened the door on his right to the buttery. He continued to walk straight ahead until he reached another door that led to a tight hall and then opened another door in front of him, to the pantry. He took a bottle of red wine and came back to the kitchen, opened it under Naavah’s confused gaze, and poured the liquid into the cups.

“I know I should have taken two glasses of wine. But I hope you don’t mind drinking it from the cup,” he said with an apologetic look.

She shook her head, reassuring him, and after he sat back down, he raised his cup.

“Let’s toast for us.”

She brought her cup to his and then took a small sip, still frowning. After a few moments, he told her in a faint, sweet voice,

“My grandfather told me lots of stories when I was little, but there is one that was kept safe in the back of my mind. The one in which he toasted after his first night with my grandmother for their marriage. You see, my grandfather was a pretty blunt man. He didn’t agree to marry until he was 28 because he was sure he hadn’t found the one; that one person that would always be by his side and that he could love.”

Naavah listened to the story, looking intently at him. Guilt began to rise in her mind again, making her feel unworthy of all of this. While he was telling her more about him and his past, she wasn’t even capable of saying a crucial thing about herself. He deserved to know about the curse, for it is an important detail that can change their lives and his life, as well. It was his right to know about this and make his own decision regarding his and their future. Yet, her fears were stronger. And this made her feel ashamed of herself.

“I must seem childish to you,” he said, waving his hand to the side, not knowing what she actually thought of.

“No, no. I believe it is a beautiful story. Please, continue.”

“There is nothing else to add to the story. I just wished to do this with my own wife, as I am not far from the age my grandfather was when he married.”

Looking at him with sadness for her own mistakes, she understood then what kind of man Fyodor was. She felt sorry for lying to him and wanted to tell him about the curse right at that moment. But when she parted her lips, she went silent. Closing her eyes tightly, she exhaled deeply in dejection. She was a coward, after all, she thought.

Another glance at Fyodor made her think that perhaps someday, none of them would have secrets toward each other. She took her cup in her hand, raised it on top of the table, and said with a small smile,

“Then, let’s toast again. This time, for our future life.”

While the moon rose up in the pitch-black sky and the stars shined above them, they kept talking till late at night. Hope lingered in their hearts and minds, making them both cherish the moment spent together. There were doubts, of course, but hope is a dangerous feeling, for it has the power to both make one rise from the ground with new strength, ready to face everything that comes in its way, and fall into an abyss, sinking deep into the darkness of the soul.

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