Pol Science Ch. 03: Communication

Hello every one! Thank you so much for reading my story and commenting on them. The third chapter is up and the sentences in bold are said or rather written by Micheal.

Let me know about any improvements I should make. This is not the instant sex kind of thing so if you are looking for something like that, this is not your thing.

Happy reading!!

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I have been told that grief comes in stages. Perhaps every strong emotion does? And if it does then mine had completed the three stage cycle- anger, reconciliation, bitterness.

I made a decision and I had to live with it. That didn't make me any less of a person or him any less responsible. Considering the fact that he did not deem it valuable to even glance in my direction, my reception was quite warm at his house.

The ride to his townhouse was tense. We couldn't converse, that did not mean that we could not communicate. But, we didn't try to. Not once.

His grip was strong as he handed me out of the carriage. The staff stood at the gate to greet us, their mistress and master. I was introduced to the servants by Malcolm who I later learned was the head butler and my husband's greatest confidant.

By dinner I had lost any hope of the life I had mapped out for myself. I was the mistress of a huge household, I had responsibilities not the liberties I had assumed I would have. My husband though unable to talk had done nothing to emote his feelings. I was at a disadvantage here. What was I supposed to do? Try to start a polite conversation that would insult him? Or remain quiet and prove myself impolite? He saved me the trouble. He did not appear for dinner.

And that accounts for all that has happened till now.

The fire crackles cheerfully and the room is overheated. My fingers carefully detangle my hair. Rhythmically and slowly. I am the occupant of the blue room now and this fact leaps onto my mind, the only coherent thought in the sea of confusion.

I haven't done anything as of now. No improper behavior. Nothing. Then why am I subjected to indifference?

My thoughts swirl and perhaps that is why I miss the quiet knock. The warm hand at my shoulder startles me.

"What..." my voice catches in my throat. I look into dark eyes for the second time.

A pale hand quickly snatches up the brush I have dropped in my surprise.

"Good evening sir, you were missed at dinner", this is the best I can come up with.

I address his back .He returns with paper and pen.

He wants to write a letter? My mind absently registers his offering .

Sorry, business called. Hope you are comfortable, madam.

I look mildly at the words. We are communicating.

"yes, thankyou. Hope that you have successfully transacted the said business."

Small talk, distasteful small talk.

Yes, thank you. This is the first time we are talking and I realize that the wedding was rather hasty.I offer my apologies.

"indeed, let us not pretend it was meant to be anything else. Come to the point Mr.Aramis."

There , I have said it and gained narrow eyes. He hasn't changed out of his wedding garb. He really was out on business.

The point, Talia?

Talia? Martha calls me that. Only Martha.

"The point Mr. Aramis is that you feel comfortable enough to call me by a pet name like a good husband when you don't know the first thing about me. Care to explain?"

No, definitely not the thing he was expecting. Pride nags a corner of my mind

His lips lift into a smile. He is beautiful. Perfect. He reminds me of my imperfections. He just succeeded in wounding my vanity.

Contrary to what you may think, I am not a savage. If you prefer to be called by any other name, say so. I just wanted to start on friendly terms, hence the name.

He makes me sound like a petulant child.

"Terms? We are negotiating business?Very well, Let us lay down the ground rules then."

No, not business but it will make it easier to consider it that way Talia, so let us put it that way.

My name again. He would have had a wonderful voice; I can imagine it. He is so close, for convenience of course. He has such a neat script, almost feminine, nothing like my inelegant scrawl. His hand is distracting.

"what?" I must have drifted off in my musings. His hand is on my knee , shaking it gently ,concern etched on his face. New words are being scrawled hastily across the paper.

Are you well? Do you need anything?

"No, Thank you. Right, where were we? Ground rules, okay...The marriage has been labeled a political union so I presume that we are not to put up pretenses when are not in public. I will try my utmost to be civil to you and expect the same from you. I will carry out my duties as a wife and as your consort at the parliament and other duties which you wish may wish to bestow upon me. I believe honesty is the basis of all relationships , business or otherwise and would like that to be an integral part here as well. I do not savour the idea of living like strangers and would like to at least try to work the things out to make this union work...and..and.."

I have to say this.

"and provide you with heirs as is conventional."

Nothing is conventional here. The bastard is smirking. Good! My scrowl is still effective.

Civility should not be a problem. Our very blood is the definition of civility. Honesty is not a condition, it is a demand. Your father has negotiated the formal work of contract in this marriage but I would like to discuss them with you once you have settled. Heirs, though responsibility are not a necessity for me. We do not have to hurry. Rest assure, I have not come here to assert my rights in the marital bed tonight.

Hopefully, He won't be able to see my rising colour.

"You wont? I mean if we don't then...umm..how.."

Tonight is the keyword here Talia. Impatient?

I cannot help the scrowl and I think he is unable to help his smile.

No need to be feisty love. Now, since you are not to be a stranger how about we start with names, full names.

"Natalia Anamaria Rosalinda Darth, Natalia is my name, Anamaria was my grandmother's name an d Rosalinda was my mother's name and the rest I really cannot remember. You will have to consult the family tree .Stop with the endearments please."

Michael Vincent Aramis, at your service. You have a rather unusual voice.

"Ah well, thank you. It is responsible for the love match we have made, isn't it?"

I hope he does not miss the sarcasm in my voice.

I do not come without flaws. My inability to talk puts us at a disadvantage. But, let us try to make it work, shall we? It is inconvenient to write and express and so there is are special gestures that are universally acknowledged . If you so wish, I would love to teach you so that we can talk more comfortably.

"When do we start? Tonight?'

No, not tonight. Tomorrow perhaps. Let us continue tomorrow, sleep now Talia.

"You will not sleep ...ummm...we will not sleep here?"

He rises, halts, sits down again. Pen and paper in use .

These are your rooms. Mine is the one connected to yours. As I have said, I will not breech your personal space. You will share my room and everything else but all in good time.

"Okay.."

Compliance is so out of character. I am out of character tonight.

He reaches for me, and I let him brush my hair aside. His lips brush over mine in the lightest of caresses. I see the unspoken 'good night' in those eyes.

He leaves the room and I mull over lots of things..