I Will Be the Greatest Knight

Chapter 504: Raincloud

Irene felt as if she was living in a cloud and couldn’t see outside of it. It felt like she was in her own universe.

This grief was truly eating her alive.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since her father’s funeral, but she was spending most of her time sleeping. For some reason, there was a sick thought within her that perhaps this wasn’t real. Had it just been another dream that she would wake up from years in the past and have to figure out a solution against? That would be the ideal situation.

To test this theory, Irene squeezed the hand she had cut some time before; she let out a gasp. That pain was real. This reality... was real.

The only person who could break into her fog moved closer to her in the bed they shared. She had hardly realized Henry was there.

"What are you doing?" he asked, concerned.

He had been observing her for a while.

It was evening. Irene had only spent about two hours outside of the bed that day. It felt like he was losing her and he wasn’t entirely sure how to get her back.

His understanding would go on forever, but it didn’t take away from his feeling that he was entirely useless to her right now. It was only further emphasized by the way he felt he couldn’t get through to her even when she was in his arms.

"I was hoping that none of this is real," she admitted quietly, settling onto her back and allowing her eyes to drift to the ceiling where the sheer fabric that had been hung still swayed. It was a reminder of her wedding that she could hardly remember at that moment.

Henry tried his hardest not to be offended by her words, but he couldn’t help as he uttered, "Hopefully not the part where we were married."

Irene didn’t even look at him, her green eyes still on the ceiling. Her only response was a tear rolling out of the side of her eye and falling into her expanse of wavy red hair that fanned out underneath her.

At that, Henry moved closer, but he hesitated to touch her; she seemed too fragile.

"Forgive me," he apologized. "I shouldn’t have said that."

"It feels like I can’t see further than what’s in my head," Irene admitted, her voice wavering. "Can I tell you something?"

Henry settled at her side. All he could do was watch her while she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

"Anything," he muttered.

"Please, don’t think I’ve gone mad..." she requested.

"I would never think that," he assured her.

"There was a time when I was a child where I had a dream that I thought was real," she explained, her voice quiet. "In that dream, I fell away from my Sünstoian heritage by choosing the path of a noble girl rather than a warrior by giving up sword fighting for etiquette lessons. I married someone I didn’t like. It felt like my father hated me in that dream by the way he seemed to disappear the moment I stopped acknowledging who I truly was. I was killed by a goblin at the end. Can you imagine?" Irene let out a shaky sigh. "When I woke up, I was certain I had lived ten years of life, but my grandmother explained that the women in our family have prophetic dreams so that we can change our lives for the better... I hoped for a moment that perhaps all of this was just a dream... Perhaps I would wake up to a reality where my father was still alive, and I was meant to find a way to change his fate... his real fate."

Irene rolled to her side as she sought the touch of her husband, who was so scared of breaking her further. For the first time in a few days, she buried her face in his chest.

"But then you spoke to me, and I remembered what I would have to lose to gain my father back," she whispered. "I don’t want to lose you, too. I fought so hard to figure out what you meant to me, and now I can’t lose you."

She knew she was ridiculous, and her volatile emotions couldn’t be trusted, but she still clung to Henry and her wet eyes got his tunic wet. He held onto her as if his life depended on it, and she felt a small sense of comfort. He was there waiting for her when this fog finally decided to cease.

Henry hugged his wife, his heart clenching, but finally hearing the words he needed to keep on.

Irene fell asleep again shortly after, and Henry decided to go to the stables and retrieve his horse. He then mounted his steed and rushed to the inn where the entire knighthood waited for instruction from him.

Luckily, as he arrived, the very knight he was hoping to see was outside. It was a tepid summer evening and easy to enjoy.

"Felix," Henry greeted.

"Henry," the second in command responded. "What brings you out here?"

The blonde knight knew right away that Henry was coming to him with more of a personal matter because of the way he was addressing him. When Henry dismounted his horse and joined Felix at a table outside of the inn, he seemed to deflate as he sat down at the table and rested his elbows against the wooden surface.

"I fear I’m going to have to burden you for a bit longer," Henry admitted. "If that makes me a failure as a commander, then I can only be understanding. I can’t choose the knighthood or the duchy over my wife, at the moment."

Felix’s eyebrows knit together, but he offered the other man a tight-lipped smile. He felt a bit jealous that Henry had that choice at all. How badly Felix yearned for a bit of normalcy in the realm of marriage. Wouldn’t it be nice for him to escape the knighthood in winter and make a home with someone he loved? Or perhaps he was delusional and the heavy emotions they held after Arthur’s passing were making him a bit funny.

"I would never fault you for that," Felix admitted. "This season for the knighthood isn’t difficult until we get to harvest season. Please, take your time. Irene needs you, and that should be your highest priority."