Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 119: The Mother Of Theodore.

Chapter 119: The Mother Of Theodore.

Night.

Bedroom, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

*******************

As the moon cast its soft glow through the window, illuminating their bedroom with a gentle silver light, Lydia and Theodore lay side by side in their bed.

The heaviness of their hearts seemed to weigh down the very air around them, suffocating in its intensity.

Lydia’s eyes were red and swollen from tears shed throughout the day, but her mind was no longer overly consumed by thoughts of the child they had lost.

Theodore’s face was drawn and etched with small lines of distress, his normally strong demeanour crumbling under the weight of their shared grief.

They lay in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, the only sound the quiet rhythm of their breathing mingling in the stillness of the night. The emptiness of their arms once filled with passion and dreams was now echoed with a painful absence that seemed to stretch on infinitely.

The covers felt heavy upon their bodies as if weighted down by the weight of their sorrow. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in around them as they grappled with the reality of their loss, but then they breathed each other in.

With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, Lydia turned to her husband, seeking solace in the familiarity of his embrace.

Theodore wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they clung to each other in the darkness, their hearts heavy with sadness and their minds consumed by grief.

He drew her tighter into his arms and she sighed.

Together, they drifted into a fitful sleep, their dreams haunted by the memory of the child they had lost and the sadness that seemed to permeate every corner of their lives.

And as the night stretched on, they clung to each other, finding solace in the shared weight of their sorrow, knowing that they would face the dawn together, no matter how heavy the burden.

They would help each other.

*

* *

*

Morning.

Bedroom, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

*******************

The grieving couple lay in bed, each arm wrapped around the other even after waking up.

Every once in a while Theodore would kiss Lydia’s head while she’d snuggle closer.

The maids didn’t dare to interrupt their morning but they had the water ready for them in the bathroom.

"I heard you made your first piece" he whispered into her head.

She froze before her mind geared back to the question. Her eyes widened as she pulled out of his arm.

The rim of her eyes is still red, as she gazed at him. "I made my first neckpiece" she confirmed.

"Let me see" he said, he was gauging her reaction and he felt his heart smile when she did.

She stood up, out of the bed abruptly.

"Yes, let me show... you" she was attacked by a sudden dizziness but she shook her head.

"Come let us go to my office" she said softly.

Theodore looked proud when he said with a smile in his eyes. "My wife has an office now"

She looked at him with a small smile. "Yes, she does" Lydia replied.

"Come" she outstretched her dainty palm for him to take so she could guide him to the office. But he shook his head, walked to their rack and picked a soft coat for her.

"Let me," he said to her confused self.

He picked her up with ease and only her short gasp proved her surprise at his action.

"The office is just in the room after yours" she mumbled as she gripped his neck.

"And that is where we shall go" Theodore rumbled.

As the soft afternoon light filtered through the office curtains, Lydia eagerly approached her husband, Theodore, with a delicate piece of jewellery cradled in her palm.

With a radiant smile, she began to describe the intricate details of the necklace she had painstakingly crafted herself, her eyes sparkling with pride and excitement.

Theodore’s gaze softened as he listened attentively, admiring her skill and creativity. For a fleeting moment, the weight of their recent loss lifted from Lydia’s shoulders as she immersed herself in the joy of sharing her passion with her beloved.

Lost in the moment, she forgot the ache in her heart, enveloped instead by the warmth of their connection and the simple pleasure of creating something beautiful together.

In that fleeting moment, the pain of their loss faded into the background, overshadowed by the love they shared and her creativity.

"Lord Theodore" a knock resounded after the call.

"What is it?" he asked. His reply made Dorothy step into the office.

As she bowed, Theodore’s question met her rising self. "Is Conan here?"

"Yes, he said it’s urgent" Dorothy replied.

"Gooseberry" Theodore looked at his wife with regret in his eyes.

Lydia waved him off, feigning comfort "Go, I am ok, I shall be waiting for you" she promised.

"Be fine" Theodore said softly as he dropped a kiss on Lydia’s forehead.

*

* *

*

Evening.

Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

*******************

The weather was horrible and still today in Critic Arley, whatever it was the Muckraker talked about was coming and there was nothing anyone could do.

In the mansion, Theodore after getting ready for work that morning had just arrived and after apologizing for his late coming to his already tipsy wife, he hopped into the bathroom.

Lydia spent her day in her office today and when it started to get dark, her thoughts started to go back too, she had asked everyone out of the mansion before she went for her rum.

The night had become easier afterwards until Theodore arrived, but she was still sitting in the parlour as she felt her bedroom was suffocating her.

Lydia was still in her dungarees and slightly drunk from the excess intake of rum after the first taste when she heard a knock on the front door.

She frowned but intended to ignore it. Yet the knock came again, persistent and loud. She glanced at the stairs before standing up. Theodore was still upstairs bathing so she staggered to the door.

She held the door handle and took a deep breath before swinging it open. Her ocean-blue eyes widened at the presence in front of her. Two hefty men, one chubby and the other broody, were dressed like guards and they blocked her view from behind them.

The visitors too stared astounded as it was a young lady who had answered the lords’ mansion. She looked unstable to them, her gaze unstable her with an intense frown.

"Well get on with it lads" Lydia spoke with a bit too much strength. The rum was making her struggle to stay calm and get her words out.

Did she just call us lads? The audacity of a seemingly young maid, they thought.

"Oy, who’s this little girl with a silly tongue?" the chubby man with a stick in his mouth spoke.

His metabolism must be low she pondered, her face unconciously stretching into a smile.

"She is not important" the serious-looking man replied.

His shoulders were so defined one would think there was an invisible sword across it.

He moved past his second and tried to shove Lydia aside but her reflex was fast.

"Wait! What do you want?" she hastily asked them.

What was the rush? She thought as she glanced behind her.

"Where is the lord, we need to speak with him" he responded, his distrust narrowly held in.

"What is it? Speak fast" she ordered with a wave of her right hand.

"Who are you?" the man wearing a scowl questioned, he sounded irritated.

Lydia cleared her throat as she arranged the shoulders of her dungaree.

"I am the Lordess" she declared.

The guard looked insulted. "What is that?" he asked puzzled.

"I am the Lordess of Critic Arley you can speak to me of your crises in the absence of your lord" she said surely.

The fat man scoffed as he replied. "That is not a word, little girl and-" Theodore cut him off sharply.

"My wife can create any word if she desires to," he said.

He was still moving closer to the front with an air of grace and intimidation that had the men taking a step back. "If she says she’s the Lordess it’s because she has become the Lordess" he declared.

Lydia swooned. "Oh he is a charmer"

"Come here" Theodore growled, his arms ready to welcome her into them.

She stepped in with a coy smile just as she felt him stiffen in her arms.

"Lord Theodore!" a female voice drifted with the wind towards Lydia.

She turned to the front and there were now two ladies, one older and the other younger than Lydia. "Is this who you are married to, Theo?’ the elder woman asked with a disapproving sneer.

Theodore remained rigid while Lydia stood jumbled.

The lady continued. "As your mother, I am utterly disappointed"

Lydia immediately sobered up, her spine straight.

His mother?! Her mind screeched.

Theodore has a mother and she was here.

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