The Boss Wants Me Back

The next morning broke under a pale sky, and I rose before the first horn sounded across the estate. It was my turn to oversee operations at the doctor’s quarters near the western ridge, so I left early, not waiting for Darian to stir by the fire. After the council meeting wrapped at midday, a messenger arrived with a note—Darian sought me through our secure channel.

His message came sharp, tinged with irritation. Liora, why did you leave before dawn? You departed the estate without warning, and I overslept.

Once, I had tended to him with meticulous care. After our union was formalized under the Don’s seal and sworn before the family elders, I rose before him each day. I laid out his suit, prepared his morning meal, and sent discreet reminders to ensure he never missed his appointments. I had believed such devotion was the duty of a loyal wife.

Yet his tone now carried expectation, as if my loyalty were merely a contract etched in stone. As though affection were a service owed to him alone.

I was never his servant—I was his wife by oath. I had every right to refuse.

“If you are late, then rise quickly,” I sent in reply.

He asked again, What shall I wear to the gathering today?

“Choose whatever suits you. They are in the cedar chest,” I answered.

“But I cannot find—”

At that moment, a physician called me to assist with an urgent case, so I cut the link short. “I must attend my duties. Find it yourself.”

Not long after, his voice pressed again into my mind. The shirts are wrinkled. Have you not pressed them? I cannot appear before the council like this.

Then came another complaint: And no meal has been prepared?

Before I could respond, the chief doctor summoned me to his chamber. “Liora,” he said warmly, “your strength has returned. The family elders speak highly of you. The Don wishes to discuss advanced training in the northern territories.”

I had once declined such an opportunity, believing I would soon bear Darian’s heir and remain within the estate. But that dream had crumbled like dry leaves under frost. Building a family with him no longer felt like a sacred path—it felt hollow. Staying by his side seemed not only futile but dangerous to my own ambitions.

“I have reconsidered,” I told the doctor with steady resolve. “I will accept the assignment.”

He nodded in approval. “A wise choice.”

He instructed me to prepare for departure once the cycle was confirmed. His encouragement strengthened me. Perhaps this was the beginning of a life shaped by my own decisions, not by the shadow of another.

The day passed with work flowing like the river through the estate. When night finally fell, I remained inside the hall, sorting parchments and accounts. Only when Darian’s secure call reached me did I realize how late it had become.

Why have you not returned? Where is the evening meal?

The thought of stepping back into the estate beside him filled me with unease. I chose to remain and finish my tasks.

“My duties shifted unexpectedly,” I replied calmly through the channel. “I will eat here tonight. You may prepare your own supper.”

Here? His tone carried surprise.

In former days, leaving him without a prepared meal would have been unthinkable. I had tended every fire, every table, three times a day.

“Is there trouble?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “Only work.”

After a pause, he spoke again, softer this time. Do not exhaust yourself.

“Thank you,” I answered, without warmth.

Silence lingered between us before he finally asked, Liora… are you upset with me?

The question came too late—like a messenger arriving after the family business had already been settled. A spark stirred within me—something close to anger, yet deeper, quieter. It was disappointment, enduring and cold. Had he truly failed to see my feelings, or had he never cared to look?

It no longer mattered.

I would not carry resentment any longer. My path would follow my own decisions, and my heart would walk its course without him.