Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 198: Trust, Dooming Union.

Chapter 198: Trust, Dooming Union.

Evening.

Dining Hall, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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

Today Dorothy and Joyous adorned the grand Theodore mansion dining table with a lavish spread of delicacies, it reflected the elegance and opulence Lydia loved but she felt empty still and obligated to attend.

Silver candelabras that were lit up cast a warm glow over the polished mahogany surface, where the maids have porcelain plates dropped with array of sumptuous dishes, roast pheasant, truffled potatoes, and steamed vegetables, artfully arranged to entice the appetite of anyone and it does.

Four seats were occupied in the dining, Theodore, Lydia, Helena and Conan, their attire and demeanor marked them as members of the nobility.

Theodore, with his striking golden hair, sat silently, his eyes occasionally flickering to his indifferent wife, he felt immense distress she was never like that since after she could finally relax around him.

Lydia, with her raven-black hair styled in easy curls, maintained a facade of composed politeness, though a tension lingered in her gaze which was why she avoided meeting anyone’s gaze after Shi’Enz left. Her earlier argument with Theodore hung in the air between them, unresolved and heavy.

Across from them sat their guests, Helena and Conan, whose dirty blond hair was tousled with a casual charm that he carried with him.

Helena, despite her striking similarity to Lydia tonight her demeanor was more buoyant and engaging while Lydia resisted letting out deep sigh. She was deep in conversation with Conan after they spent the afternoon in each others arm, her voice, a melodious counterpoint to the clinking of cutlery and the murmurs of the maids who moved gracefully around the table, attending to their needs.

They have become pros and in sync with each other.

"Helena, have you heard the latest from Critic-Izinghale?" Conan asked just to keep Helena talking when she went quite, his tone lively and curious.

"Oh, indeed I have, Conan!" Helena replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "The drama at the duke’s residence was the talk of the town!" she simply loved drama.

As the conversation flowed around them, Theodore remained silent, his expression thoughtful. He noticed Lydia glancing around the table and knew what she needed so he stretched, picked up the salt and handed it to Lydia with a gentle smile, a small gesture of care that did not go unnoticed by her. When Lydia began to cough lightly, he reached out and patted her back softly, his touch tender and reassuring.

"Thank you, Theodore," Lydia murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes.

"Of course," Theodore replied, his voice low and calm, though his thoughts were far from tranquil. He always dropped a kiss on her cheek after she coughed or sneezed, her heart squeezed at that indifference.

The conversation between Helena and Conan continued, their laughter and animated exchange a stark contrast to the quiet tension between Theodore and Lydia. Yet, the maids, who were now trained to perfection, moved seamlessly around the table, refilling glasses with rich red wine and replacing empty plates with new courses, they didn’t act as though they noticed the tension between the couple.

"The roast pheasant is exquisite," Helena remarked, her fork delicately spearing a piece of the tender meat. "I compliment you Dorothy, Joyous." she said as the maids continued their work.

The room stilled.

Joyous cleared her throat. "Hound made them," she replied softly.

"You should give the compliments to him" Lydia commented, her smile courteous though it did not reach her eyes.

As the meal progressed, Conan turned to Theodore, attempting to draw him into the conversation. "Theodore, what do you think of the current state of affairs? Surely, you have an opinion on the matter."

Theodore glanced at Conan, his expression contemplative. "I find it... interesting," he replied simply, his voice measured.

He would have ignored the knight for asking such questions at the dinnig but because he was distracted he had easily replied, although detached.

Conan chuckled, shaking his head. "Ever the man of few words, Theodore." he teased while Theodore finally caught Lydia’s eyes when she glanced at him.

Eventually, the meal concluded, and the guests excused themselves, planning to ascend the grand staircase to their rooms together.

Theodore remained behind in the dining hall, his mind preoccupied with the argument he dreaded continuing with Lydia.

"Have a good night Lena" Lydia wished with a small smile.

Helena moved in to drop a kiss on Lydia’s cheek before she whispered. "You too, forgive him?"

Lydia flushed. "Why do you-"

"Whatever he did, I assure you he regrets it, you are making the whole mansion arctic" Helena countered cutting Lydia off.

Lydia smiled nodding as she went upstairs while Theodore sat back as though dreading the future that he knew was inevitable. ’I shall walk you to your room’ she heard Conan offering and it made her smile geniuenly this time.

Is that love brewing?

As the last of the maids left the room, closing the door softly behind them, Lydia turned to Theodore, her eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and determination. "We need to finish our conversation, Theodore," she said, her voice steady but edged with tension.

Straight to the point. The issue wedging woods into their ribs.

Theodore nodded, his golden hair catching the candlelight as he took a deep breath. "Yes, we do," he agreed, knowing that the peace of their evening was but a fragile illusion, soon to be shattered by the reality of their unresolved conflict.

The night was far from over, and as they faced each other across the now empty table, the air between them heavy with unspoken words, the true battle was just beginning.

"Upstairs?" Lydia’s voice quivered.

Theodore frowned, did something else happen? he thought before vacating his seat. "Of course" he whispered as he helped her out of the chair and with his finger itching to be placed at the small of her back, he resisted getting her angrier.

"How was your day?" Theodore asked first when they settled in their room.

She turned to him.

He came closer, his arms eager to circle her waist but he knew, he could see it in her stance. she didn’t want that.

Lydia, as much as she loved his touch, wanted nothing but for his nose find paths and explore them, needed his hands roaming, she needed answers.

"How do you know my father?"

"I do not know him" he replied easily making her frown in disgust.

"Why do you lie so much?"

Her eyes hut close because the pain she felt wasn’t just a feeling but physical too. "Why do you lie to me?!" her voice uncontrollably and Theodore inched closer but Lydia’s eyes snap open as she held up her palm stopping him from getting closer.

"Lydia I swear, I do not actually know your father but I know he is coming and he is trouble"

She took a deep breathe, trying to be clear headed. "Tell me why you think so? What did you hear?" but he remained silent.

"I am his daughter" she added, her eyes glistening.

"You cannot carry the burdens I do for us" he whispered shaking his head lightly.

She sat on the bed exhausted."I want answers, reasons for your action, trust, Theodore"

He ran his hand through his hair. "I am doing this for you" he said alarmed at her word, "For us, for a possible future for us"

"What about our plummeting trust, our rising trust issues?" she pointed out.

"You should trust me" he said, his voice begging.

"I do! Theodore, I trust you with everything I have and can ever have but you..." his heart thundered, his pain etched on his face but Lydia glared deeper. "You do not trust me" she wailed.

"You do not even think you are supposed to trust me, I do not even know you!" she wailed while he clenched his fist to stop him from telling her anything that he’d regret, that had led to this in the first place.

"You would rather rot in your office or worship my body than confide in me," she accused.

He couldn’t be that insensitive and as plain he thought but he didn’t refute, he didn’t want this, he hated her feeling like this because of him. In all their previous existence this hadn’t been a problem and he didn’t know what to do.

She continued, her voice growing louder. "Not a word about your mother, not why you do not get along with Salvadore, not why you hate honey, not why you dislike witches as I have gathered!"

"And lastly, why did you immediately want me after you set eyes on me, why do I still remember the recognition in you eyes" she waited, waited for minutes but he simply looked at his feet, his shoulders slumped in a way she didn’t appreciate but he needed to tell her something even if it’s in guilt.

He doesn’t.

"If you cannot tell me all this things, maybe nature knew to take my baby from this walls of secrets" she flinched at what she’d said but words spoken were never saliva to take back.

He suddenly looked hurt as though all the other things she’d said didn’t hold a candle to this one, "Our baby Gooseberry, and, it was not taken from us by nature, it was vengeance" he gritted out painfully, his face hard.

"Have a good night rest" she moved slowly, calculated, waiting for him to call her back and tell her something, anything she could hold on t but he doesn’t. He doesn’t think her strong or an equal to tell her the things that bothered him.

This marriage was dooming.

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