The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 431: Questions

They continued their walk, the "disguise" providing a shield that allowed them to be more honest than they had been in weeks.

They stopped at a Charm Bracelet Stall, a small, humble setup run by an elderly woman with silver hair. Eris was drawn to the display of handmade jewelry.

"See something you like, dear?" the merchant asked, oblivious to the fact that she was addressing her Empress.

Eris examined the silver chains and the tiny charms, snowflakes, wolves, and dragons. Soren watched her, seeing the way her eyes lingered on the craft. "Do you want to pick one?" he asked.

"I don’t need jewelry, Soren."

"I know you don’t need it," he said, stepping closer. "But do you want it?"

Eris considered the display. She saw two bracelets of the same design, simple and elegant. One had a small, flickering flame charm; the other, a delicate snowflake.

"What if..." she looked at him, her eyes bright. "What if we both got one?"

Soren’s internal response was a resounding yes, but he shrugged with practiced nonchalance. "If you want." They walked away with the silver chains tied around their wrists, matching, connected, a secret bond hidden beneath their sleeves.

Their next stop was a Warm Drink Stall, where they stood sipping spiced cider from earthen mugs, watching the crowd in a comfortable silence that felt like a shared secret. Then, they found a Game Stall involving throwing snowballs at wooden targets.

"Want to try?" Soren asked, his competitive spark igniting.

"Against you?" Eris laughed. "You’ll use your magic."

"I promise, no magic," Soren said. He lied. He used just enough of a breeze to tip his last ball into the target, winning a small, hand-carved wooden wolf. He handed it to her with a grin. "For you."

"You cheated," Eris said, taking the wolf and smiling anyway.

"Prove it," he countered.

They walked slower after that, just existing in the joy of the festival. They watched families laughing, couples holding hands, and the general, unbridled life of their people. It was a reminder of why they did what they did, the faces behind the policies. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

The comfort of the morning was a fragile thing, and as the day began to pass, casting small shadows over the market, Eris felt the need to address the elephant in the room. They were side by side, their matching bracelets clinking softly.

"So, what is it this time?" Eris asked suddenly. Her tone was casual, but the question was loaded with the weight of the last three days.

Soren looked at her, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"I... don’t?" Soren said, a slight lie. He had an idea, but the suddenness of her pivot caught him off guard.

Eris stopped walking, turning to face him in the middle of a quiet alleyway. The hood of her cloak fell back slightly, revealing the sharp, beautiful lines of her face in the twilight.

"Soren," she said, her voice direct and unyielding. "You’ve been avoiding me. You’ve been sleeping in your study, buried in papers, acting as if I’m a ghost in my own palace. What is it this time? What did I do?"

"I haven’t—" Soren began, the word catching in his throat like a splinter. He started to shake his head, the denial springing to his lips as a reflex, the standard imperial defense mechanism.

But Eris gave him the look. It was a sharp, focused stare that pinned him where he stood, her eyes narrowing beneath the shadow of her hood. She didn’t say a word, but her expression shouted. Don’t you dare lie to me, Soren Nivarre. Her eyebrow arched, a silent challenge that made his pulse thrum with a mixture of guilt and frustration.

Soren’s words died. He opened his mouth to try again, but he couldn’t find a convincing lie to tell that face. He snapped his mouth shut, his shoulders slumping slightly as he realized he had been caught.

"I’ve known you for months now," Eris continued, her voice matter-of-fact, cutting through the frosty air. "I can tell. We’re married, Soren. I know when you’re avoiding me, even if you’re doing it from behind a mountain of paperwork."

She began to pace a short line in the snow, holding up her fingers to count off her points. "You have two modes. There is no in-between with you. Either you’re..." she gestured wildly with her hands, "breathing down my neck. You’re constantly there, always watching, always hovering until I can’t get a moment of peace to myself."

She stopped and pointed a finger at his chest. "Or you’re completely distant. Like now. Cold, formal, treating me like a visiting dignitary you can’t wait to get rid of. It’s either one hundred percent or nothing, and it is driving me absolutely crazy."

The frustration in her voice was real, a jagged edge that sliced through the playful atmosphere they had built all afternoon.

Her posture softened then, the anger giving way to a more vulnerable confusion. She looked up at him, her amber eyes searching his for a sign of what had gone wrong.

"Did I do something?" she asked, the question hanging heavy between them. "Again? Did I make some mistake I’m not aware of?"

The implication stung him. She was looking for a fault in herself, assuming that his withdrawal was a reaction to her failure.

Soren shook his head immediately, his voice thick. "No. You didn’t—you haven’t done anything wrong, Eris."

"Then what?" she pressed, her voice rising in a sharp spike of exasperation. "Why are you avoiding me? Why can’t you even look at me when we’re alone?"

The intensity of the moment became too much for her. Eris wasn’t used to this level of emotional transparency, and she felt the familiar urge to retreat into humor. She offered a small, awkward smile, trying to lighten the crushing weight of the silence.

"What is it? Did I snore too loud?" she teased, her voice forced. "Did I take up too much space in the bed?"

Soren felt a ghost of a smile touch his lips despite himself. "No."

"Did I..." she paused, her mind racing. "Did I burn something I shouldn’t have? A rug? A curtain? A minor advisor?"

"Eris—"

"Because I can control that," she said, her voice turning nervous. "Mostly. If that’s what this is about, just tell me and I’ll—"

Soren watched her deflect, seeing the flicker of anxiety in her eyes. Should I tell her? he wondered, the war raging in his mind. How do I even say it?

"I’m scared you still love Caelen" sounded childish in his head. It sounded pathetic and insecure... the opposite of the Emperor he was supposed to be. He struggled with the choice: be honest and risk appearing weak, or stay silent and keep suffering.

She’s asking, a voice in his head urged. She wants to know. She’s your wife. Just tell her. Even if it sounds stupid. Even if you feel like a jealous child.

But the fear held him back. What if she confirms it? What if I ask, and she tells me that I’m just a second choice? What do I do then?

Finally, the weight of the secret became heavier than the risk of the truth. Soren took a deep, shuddering breath, the cold air stinging his lungs.

"You’re right," he said, meeting her eyes with a raw, unshielded gaze. "I have been avoiding you."

Eris stood still, her breath hitching. "Why?"

Soren struggled for a moment, his jaw tight. "It’s not you," he said, hating how much it sounded like a cliché. "It’s me."

"I know it’s you," Eris snapped, her exasperation flaring again. "I never said it was me. But why, Soren? What is going on in your head?"

Soren opened his mouth, then closed it. The words felt like lead. How could he explain the hollow ache he had felt since the day of the extraction? How could he tell her he had been haunted by the sound of her crying for another man?

"Soren," she said, her voice gentler now, almost a plea. "Just tell me."

He ran a hand through his hair, his hood falling back completely. "It’s... it’s complicated."

"Try me," she countered, her gaze unwavering.

Soren looked away, his eyes fixing on a distant, frost-covered spire. He couldn’t meet her eyes for this.

"When I was extracting the dark magic... from Caelen," he began, his voice low and strained.

Eris went still, the memory of that day... the pain, the cold, the exhaustion, rushing back to her. She waited, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"You collapsed," Soren said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You were crying. You weren’t even conscious, Eris, but you said something."

Eris frowned, her brow furrowing as she searched her own memory of that blurred, agonizing afternoon. "What? What did I say?"

Soren finally turned his head, looking at her with an expression of such naked, honest pain that it made her chest tighten.

"You said you love him."