Chapter 61 - Sixty One
The day had been long and draining. After his conversation with Delia that morning, Eric had thrown himself into his work, but his mind was not on the logistics of dye shipments or the price of rare pigments. It was fixed on Delia. Her words from that morning echoed in his head, a constant, painful refrain: "This is a contract marriage, after all... I won’t be here for long, anyway."
He had felt something shift between them in his kitchen, a warmth and intimacy that went far beyond their agreement. But she had pushed it away, retreating behind the cold, logical walls of their contract. The rejection hurt more than he cared to admit.
As dusk settled over the city, he found himself at a high-end dining establishment he often frequented, a quiet place that respected the privacy of its patrons. He was shown to a private area, a small, secluded room closed off by a heavy velvet curtain. He didn’t order any food.
He was thinking about Delia. He poured a glass of deep red wine and drank it down in two long swallows, the liquid doing little to dull the ache in his chest. He carefully selected a cigar, the routined motions grounding him slightly. He struck a match, the small flame illuminating his face as he held it to the end of the cigar.
The first puff was a release, the smoke curling upwards towards the high ceiling as he leaned back in the chair. He watched the smoke dissipate, his thoughts drifting back to Delia’s words, each exhale carrying a bit of his frustration.
Just as he was beginning to feel the familiar, lonely peace of his solitude, the velvet curtain was pulled aside. A young woman in an elegant evening gown sat down beside him, a bright smile on her face.
"Oh my," she said, her voice a little too loud in the quiet room. "I didn’t think I would run into you here, Your Grace."
It was Anne.
Eric didn’t even bother to feign surprise. He took another slow drag from his cigar and looked continued looking at the ceiling, his expression cold and uninterested. "Is this really a coincidence, Lady Anne," he asked, his voice flat, "or have you been following me?"