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It was a realization that happened when he was shining his jewels as she signed some papers in their office. The Onyx was vibrating to show off the clarity of its shine, he looked away to avoid preening himself. His eyes locked at her sight, his beloved.
She caught him staring and smiled. He leaned to kiss her but stopped. He was looking at the paper, a sheep count of a countryside farm. And her handwriting.
“It was you?”
“Hm?”
“The one who wrote letters about kittens and clotted cream and other things?”
“Oh yes, Lady Horssen told me to write things about it, the longer the better. It was for an old friend at the northern front.”
It also dawned on her who received her mindlessly written letters.
“O-Oh!”
He fought the urge to use a crystal to treasure the blooming red on her cheeks with the fact his own face was probably redder than hers. At this rate they would be a pair of carnations with their embarrassment.
“Still, they helped me,” he said, returning back to the Onyx before it began a temper tantrum.
“How so?”
“Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Your letters reminded me what I... what we were fighting for. That the blood and wounds were all for everyone's safety.”
Another memory resurfaced, this time making him wince.
“Have I ever apologized for thinking you as a charlatan when I first heard of you?”
He heard a drop of a pen and looked to the sight of her blinking back in disbelief.
“Hann, we've shared our vows for half a year and you decide to tell me now?”
She couldn't help but tear a bit, it was quite saddening to hear, even when they already properly met for their courtship and eventual marriage. The papers on the desk were forgotten as he stuttered out sorry and I apologise, feeling him embrace her in his warmth, his heart beating beside her ear.
“I'm so sorry my love,” he said, softly combing through her hair. “I'll never speak of this again.”
“But we have to. Or else we won't understand each other.”
He said nothing, soothingly rubbing circles on her back until she felt the tears dry. She patted his arm, and he let go, a hand on top hers.
“How about we write letters?”, he proposed as he returned back to the vibrating Onyx, giving it a final rough shine before placing it back on its jewel box. “Since I may be assigned at any border of Cardya after our honeymoon, it may soothe you.”
She sighed. As much as she wanted her husband to be by her side, being both the Grand Duke and the strongest Jewel Mage of a century meant she would wake up most mornings without him. It was simply life.
“But reply to me, or else I'd withhold the Jewels loaned from me!”, Riella mock-threatened him, chuckling when he mimed his fear.
Someone knocked on the door, with the butler bowing at them.
“Madame and sir, dinner is now prepared.”
He stood up to help her sit up from a day's worth of paperwork, and together, they walked to their meal.