Jeremy Neuschwanstein | The Husband

It was evening when you finally arrived home. An hour after curfew. You scolded yourself under your breath as you hopped into the carriage, oblivious to the hours you had spent gathering to celebrate a close friend's pregnancy. You were greeted by the remaining servants who seemed to have been awaiting your arrival. You were too tired to speak, too exhausted to even make it up to the second floor to reach the rooms. But as soon as the maid mentioned your husband's return, you came alive. After an absence of two months, he had returned a week earlier than expected. He was an Imperial Knight. Someone who took orders under the Emperor. Someone who carried out their mission abroad, far from home. It disappointed you to know that you couldn't at least give him a warm welcome because you returned late. A slow push on the door made a painful, piercing sound that made you shiver. The small gap overlooked the dimly lit shared bedroom, framed by the faint moonlight filtering through the window. You concluded he was probably asleep—yet you froze at the sound of laughter and the crackle of the fire. His short, sandy brown hair draped back against the couch. As you moved behind him, he shifted again, the fabric of the couch creaking slightly. The top buttons of his shirt were still undone; his sleeves rolled up, revealing toned, muscular forearms that rested over his eyes. He looked like he was asleep now. Why isn’t he on the bed instead? Your eyes then immediately fell on the bouquet resting on his lap. A note slipped between the blooming flowers read: Another year with you. Realization hit you like a rock. It was your anniversary and he was expecting you but you were oblivious. He had never sent a letter notifying him of his return. None of your servants had expected this either, had they? Or… was he supposed to surprise you?

Jeremy is your arranged husband.