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Killian couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something was off; Edith seemed rather agitated since she returned from her visit to the Palace with his father and Cliff. Even when Killian invited her outside, she acted uncomfortable and refused. Something told him it wasn’t like the time when she spent her days avoiding him, he wanted to believe they had grown closer by now.
“Is something wrong?” he finally asked during dinner. “You seem nervous since you returned from visiting Katrin.”
Edith flinched while she brought the fork to her mouth. “Oh, no, Killian, you needn’t worry about it. It was nothing.”
“But something did happen.” Killian set down his cup of tea.
“No, no!” Edith rushed to say. “Sorry, I think I worded it wrong.”
“Why don’t you just tell me exactly what happened during the trip?”
She worried her bottom lip. Killian’s gut feeling grew stronger by the second. He knew he should assess the situation before acting, but he also could foresee a surge of rage coming if he learned somebody had offended Edith at the Palace.
He clenched his fist.
“It’s just…” Edith started. “Cliff said something…”
That surprised Killian. At the same time, he should have expected it. “What did he say to you?”
“I told you it was nothing concerning. He only talked about you and gave me some advice.”
“Advice on what?” his voice came out more clipped than what he intended to, he couldn’t help it.
What would such an arrogant bastard ever say for someone else’s benefit, especially Killian’s? He knew Cliff didn’t hate him, of course, he had always believed himself too above Killian, too high to pay any mind to his insignificant younger brother.
“On our relationship,” Edith answered. She looked just as excited as Killian felt.
For once, Killian didn’t assume the worst and gave a long-suffering sigh. “I will talk to my brother and tell him not to meddle in our relationship—”
“You don’t have to do that,” Edith interrupted. “I can tell him off by myself.”
“I know,” he conceded, sincere and with the utmost certainty. “But I don’t like him talking to you. I will tell him to leave you alone so you won’t have to worry about him in the future. And please, don’t trust anything he says… He is not a good person.”
Edith looked at him with wide brown eyes, she was most likely confused that the relationship between the Rudwick brothers was so strained, yet Killian was focused on something else entirely. Looking back, he had been so blinded by his hate towards the Rigelhofs at the start of their marriage to notice his wife’s remarkable beauty.
He was an idiot back then.
The rest of the meal went by without any other major revelations, Edith told him about her day with Katrin and Killian told her he would have rather gone shopping with her. (That in itself should have been more of a shock. Ever since Rhyse’s arrival at the manor, Killian thought he would always enjoy her company over anyone else’s).
After scheduling to go sailing together, Edith bid him goodnight at her bedroom’s door: “Thank you for dining with me, Killian. It is very kind of you to come visit me.”
“No need to thank me.” He bowed. “It is my pleasure.”
She smiled. “Well, good night.”
“Good night.”
He remained on the spot after she closed the door, the finality of its soft thud resounded inside his head. Putting a hand forward, he leaned against the cold, firm wood, surrendering.
“I wish I had met you sooner…”
Killian power-walked across Rudwick Manor until he finally arrived at Rhyse’s bedroom. As he guessed, Cliff was already there, exiting the room as Killian reached the door. Sometimes he seemed more like a stalker rather than a suitor.
“Killian,” Cliff greeted him. “Coming to pay Rhyse another visit?”
“No.” Would you calm down? I am no longer interested in stealing the affection of your beloved. “Actually, I was coming to see you.”
“Me? What for?”
Cliff’s default expression was an arrogant smirk that Killian hated since childhood, even if he was curious about whatever Killian was about to say, he looked like he knew he would turn whatever it was in his own favor.
Arrogant bastard.
“I would appreciate it if you refrained from giving my wife unsolicited advice on our relationship.”
Cliff’s eyebrows went up. His eyes looked amused. “Is that so? I thought you’d appreciate I told Edith about your hobbies to make your relationship more amenable.”
“Our relationship is just fine,” Killian retorted curtly. (Talking about his hobbies? Cliff had never cared about his hobbies). “And Edith knows plenty about me.”
I dare say she knows me better than you.
“Oh, my. Are you sure your judgment isn’t too clouded by now, brother? It seems to me that you are allowing the hostage too close.”
Killian bristled; his words became infused with fury. “Be careful with how you refer to my wife.”
“So now she is ‘your wife’, and not ‘that woman’?”
Cliff had the nerve to laugh seeing Killian wince. Not even during sword practice could Cliff hurt him this much.
“I must say, brother, I am amazed that you are reacting so strongly because of a Rigelhof,” Cliff went on. Killian imagined wiping that insufferable smirk from his face in one swing. “I have never seen you so worked up, not even in matters concerning Rhyse. You always looked… resigned when it came to her.”
You fat-headed tool!
Killian ground his teeth together, doing his best to refrain from strangling his own brother right then and there.
He clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms.
Edith.
Edith always made him feel better. He felt more like himself when he thought of her. And if she cared about him, she wouldn’t like seeing him with a black eye after fighting Cliff with his bare hands.
When he answered, his voice came out deep and somber: “Her name is Edith Rudwick.”
Cliff’s eyes widened in shock. Killian gave a step forward, it echoed through the hallway, the floor shook under his weight with no lesser force than it would during a quake.
“And she has nothing to do with whatever happens between you, me, and Rhyse. I know how much you enjoy tormenting me and I don’t care, but leave Edith out of it.” He was an inch away from Cliff’s face. “She is off-limits, even if you are too spoiled to know what that means.”
Cliff was too stubborn to show how astonished and even fearful he felt. It was an odd time to notice, but Killian was the tallest between the two.
“Marriage changes a man, brother.” Killian grinned after inducing some of Cliff’s sarcasm into his voice.
After, he turned and left.
He didn’t think much of the confrontation until morning. Although, in hindsight, he should have. Cliff would take revenge. Their daily sword practice was the perfect chance.
Not too long into their sparring, Cliff cut Killian across his chest.
“Sorry,” Cliff shrugged. “I got too excited.”
“Are you crazy?” Killian hissed when he passed his fingers over the blood. His left pectoral was soaked with it.
“Killian!”
As luck would have it, Edith was walking by with Anna right at that moment. She dropped the basket that she was holding—wildflowers rained close to the grass—and bolted towards the training grounds. Everything else became backdrop noise, eclipsed by the sweet music that was her voice even though it was breaking.
She kept asking whether he was alright, which made him wonder if the cut looked worse to the outside eye. It was havoc, everyone who witnessed the scene and Killian’s bleeding was running around and calling for a doctor. The servants and maids were screaming to the top of their lungs. Cliff kept staring at Killian as the latter received the attentions of his wife.
“Oh, I know! Anna, bring me the rosewater from my bedroom, please!”
“At once, my lady!”
Killian was confused. “Rosewater? What for?”
“It has antiseptic properties, we have to disinfect your wound,” she explained.
He smiled. “Oh, so you are beautiful and brilliant!”
“No joking now, you are still bleeding!”
“I wasn’t joking,” he asserted.
Anna returned and Edith wet the tip of a handkerchief with rosewater before cleaning Killian’s wound with it. (Killian had never been so glad to lose a scuffle).
The doctor arrived shortly after, when there was nothing to do except bind Killian’s wound. Although the binds were uncomfortable, he could move just fine. She also prescribed medicines and an ointment to help with the scarring process.
“Are you sure you are alright?” Edith asked even before the doctor left.
They were back in Killian’s bedroom. She was sitting at the opposite corner of the bed, too far away for his taste. She was eyeing his shirtless back, though.
“Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
He tried to smile but she looked down, worrying her bottom lip once again. He could notice her leg bouncing beneath the skirt of her dress.
The door closed; they could talk.
“That cut was intentional,” she ventured. “What were you two fighting about?”
Killian remained quiet.
“Was it because of what I told you?”
“It was nothing.”
“I told you the same thing!” she debated. Her voice sounded strong yet her usual glinting eyes were dim. “I should leave.”
She tried to run for the door, quite literally. Killian caught her hand.
“I am an ailing patient,” he protested, hating how pathetic he sounded. “You are going to leave me unsupervised?”
Edith pointed him an exasperated look.
“… Please, stay.”
It was surreal that he was begging her to linger now, after what happened at their wedding—after he publicly humiliated her like that by refusing to touch her. Instead of acknowledging his hypocrisy and letting go, he caressed the vulnerable skin of her inner wrist. He kissed her ring and pressed his forehead to her hand like a vassal.
The Rudwicks didn’t display such pitiful behavior and Killian Rudwick didn’t kneel before anyone… except for her.
“Alright,” Edith conceded. “I can stay.”
Her other hand caressed his face and his eyes slipped shut blissfully…
“Open your eyes,” he heard her say. “Look at me.”
He did. The sparkle in her eyes had returned. He couldn’t move, so entranced he was.
Edith leaned forward and kissed him; her lips were just as soft as her touch. Killian felt an overwhelming relief flooding his body in warm, pleasant waves. Finally.
His hands cupped her face as she caressed his naked chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath the bandages. She was shaking in his arms, strands of hair escaped her braid, her nails dug into his shoulders yet careful not to cause him more damage. She climbed onto the bed to straddle his hips, and Killian helped her. Just as he was thinking about ripping her dress off, the door barged open:
“Killian, are you—” It was Rhyse.
Cliff was right behind her. (That wasn’t too surprising, all things considered).
Rhyse froze with her hand on the doorknob. Both sets of azure blue and golden eyes became wide and unseeing from the door. Edith and Killian looked at them. Then, at each other. None of them moved an inch.
“I… I…” Rhyse stammered. “… Cliff … told me… happened… cut…”
Killian was sure he had never seen her this mortified, her pretty face was all unflattering shades of red. Cliff looked shocked. Killian could guess he didn’t have much faith in his relationship with Edith, so finding them in this position was… unexpected, to say the least.
He did his best to smile comfortingly at his quasi-little sister. “Don’t you worry, Rhyse, I am fine. But could you please close the door and knock before entering?”
(It was long overdue that he said something of the sort. Hindsight was striking him hard that day).
She tried to look up, yet returned her gaze to the ground after registering the sight of them. “Of course… So… Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Edith smiled as well.
For less than a second, Killian believed he noticed Rhyse glare at Edith, but that couldn’t be. There was no reason to be angry at Edith, Rhyse was the one who intruded. Moreover, it didn’t seem like Rhyse to be angry or resent anyone.
“Right…” Rhyse smiled back, albeit awkwardly, so Killian thought he must have imagined it. “Sorry again, Edith.”
The door closed. A short moment passed before Killian and Edith burst out laughing.
Despite everything that had happened in the manor after Edith’s arrival, this had to be the most bizarre occurrence.
They resumed kissing and Killian managed to unbutton the collar of her dress.
“Maybe we should wait—” she cut off into a moan when Killian kissed and sucked her neck.
“Can’t wait,” he rasped against her perfumed throat.
He hated how the dress was so difficult to take off without tearing it. Her wedding dress would have been easier, her beautiful breasts had been practically popping off from it… Goodness, if he had been less of an idiot back then, he wouldn’t have missed the chance to spend his wedding night with Edith.
Well, he wasn’t going to dwell on the past when he had her here, naked, and in bed with him.