Kapitel 12: Bitter Beginnings.

In the sitting room, Camille sat on the edge of the sofa, her hands tightly gripping a lace handkerchief. Ambrose stood near the window, his arms crossed, staring at nothing in particular. Both looked up as Dr. Arnold entered the room, his expression carefully neutral.

"Well?" Ambrose asked without preamble, his voice firm. "What's wrong with our son? Why did this happen after a year of nothing?"

Dr. Arnold hesitated, his gaze flicking briefly to Camille, who looked as though she was holding her breath. Should I tell them the truth? No… Young Master Leone was clear. They mustn't know.

Clearing his throat, Arnold offered a sympathetic smile. "Mr Leone's condition appears to be tied to stress. It's not uncommon for individuals with his constitution to experience episodes under intense pressure. The wedding and the subsequent expectations likely triggered this incident. Physically, he will recover fully."

Camille's voice trembled. "But why didn't we see this coming? A year, Doctor! A whole year without a single episode. We thought he was… better."

"It's difficult to predict these things, Madam Camille," Arnold replied, his voice steady. "Mental health is often unpredictable. The important thing is that he rests and avoids unnecessary strain."

"But this isn't normal, is it?" Ambrose pressed, his sharp eyes narrowing. "There's more you're not saying."

Arnold swallowed hard, carefully choosing his words. "My lord, Leone has always been… sensitive. While his episodes are concerning, they don't indicate anything beyond what we've observed in the past. Rest assured, I will continue to monitor him closely."

Camille's eyes filled with tears. "Is there nothing more we can do for him?"

"Support and understanding are the best remedies," Arnold said gently. "He needs a stable environment and time to heal."

Ambrose gave a curt nod, though his expression was far from satisfied. "Very well. But we can see him now, can't we, Doctor?"

Dr. Arnold shook his head, his tone measured. "He needs rest for now. It's best not to disturb him."

Ambrose's jaw tightened, frustration flickering across his face. "He's been resting long enough. I need to see him, Arnold."

Arnold hesitated, then sighed, his eyes softening with a hint of concern. "I understand, sir. But pushing him too soon might make things worse. He's in a delicate state."

Camille, standing quietly beside Ambrose, spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let him rest, Ambrose. If we push him now, it could set him back." Her eyes were filled with worry, and her hand trembled slightly as she clasped it in front of her. ' I don't want to see him in that state again.'

Ambrose ran a hand through his hair, clearly torn. He turned to face Arnold, his tone sharper than before. "How long?"

"Just a few hours," Arnold replied, his voice firm but gentle. "Then, you can talk to him."

Ambrose gave a short, reluctant nod, but his gaze lingered on the door to Leone's room, his mind heavy with unspoken questions and frustrations. "Fine. A few hours."

Camille placed a hand on his arm, trying to offer comfort, though her own anxiety was palpable. "We'll be here when he wakes."

" Alright, I will take my leave. " Arnold bowed slightly and left.

---

Leone lay in his darkened room, the bandages around his forehead itching slightly. His body felt heavy, like a weight pressing him into the mattress. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind replaying fragments of the argument with his mother, he couldn't sleep.

A knock at the door broke his trance.

"Come in," he called hoarsely, his voice rough from disuse.

A servant entered, bowing slightly before speaking. "Young master, Madam Evelina is here to see you."

Leone's stomach twisted at the mention of his wife. He hadn't seen her since the wedding, hadn't even spoken to her. Guilt mixed with irritation as he pushed himself upright, wincing at the dull ache in his head.

"Ah! Send her in," he said after a moment, his tone unreadable.

The servant bowed again and left, leaving the door slightly ajar. Leone rubbed his temples, bracing himself for the confrontation he knew was inevitable.

Moments later, Evelina appeared in the doorway, her posture straight and her expression unreadable. She stepped inside, her eyes briefly flicking to the bandage on Leone's head. Her eyes widened slightly as the words slipped out unconsciously.

"What happened to your head?"

Leone's gaze didn't falter, his tone dismissive. "If you don't have anything important to talk about, please leave."

Evelina clenched her fists, pressing her lips together to suppress her emotions. Right… I shouldn't be worried about someone like him, she thought, her frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"Mr. Leone," she began, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of tension. "We need to talk."

Leone leaned back against the headboard, crossing his arms. His expression remained indifferent as he replied, "Go on, then. Say what you came to say."

Evelina paused, her thoughts racing. After so much time thinking, I decided not to storm in and yell my anger and frustration at him. And now I'm glad I didn't. He doesn't seem to be in good shape… so…

Her resolve shifted, and instead of the sharp retort she had initially planned, she smiled—brightly and warmly.

Leone blinked, stiffening at her sudden change in demeanor. His brow furrowed slightly as a thought crossed his mind. What is this? Did she hit her head or something? Why is she smiling like that?

"I just came here to welcome you back home," Evelina said, her tone light and cheerful. She clasped her hands in front of her as if preparing for something formal. "Let me introduce myself properly. I'm—"

"Evelina Moore," Leone interrupted, his voice cool and deliberate. "Daughter of Richard Moore, owner of Moore Estates. I already know who you are. And I'm sure you know who I am."

Her smile faltered for a split second before she quickly recovered. "Of course," she said, keeping her tone steady. "But this is our first real conversation as husband and wife, so I thought it polite to start fresh."

Leone raised an eyebrow, studying her closely. "Fresh, huh?" he said, his tone skeptical. "Interesting choice, considering the circumstances."

Evelina's smile didn't waver. "Well, sometimes fresh starts are necessary. Don't you agree?"

Leone didn't reply immediately, his expression unreadable. Finally, he leaned forward slightly, his voice low. "We'll see."

Evelina cleared her throat, gathering her composure before speaking. "As my husband, I would like to invite you to join me for a cup of tea in my wing."

Leone regarded her for a moment, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between them, and Evelina felt her nerves tighten under his sharp gaze.

"Tea," he finally said, his tone flat. "In your wing."

"Yes," Evelina replied, keeping her voice steady. "It's a simple invitation, nothing more. I thought it would be… appropriate for us to spend some time together as husband and wife."

Leone leaned back against the headboard, his arms crossing over his chest. "Appropriate," he repeated, almost as though testing the word. "And what exactly do you hope to gain from this little… tea meeting?"

Evelina hesitated for a moment but quickly masked her discomfort with a polite smile. "Understanding. I believe it's important for us to start building some form of communication. Even if we didn't marry for love, we still have responsibilities to fulfill."

Leone's lips twitched into a faint smirk, though there was no warmth in it. "Responsibilities. Of course. How noble of you."

Evelina thought, How annoying. She could feel her patience wearing thin, but she forced herself to remain calm. This is what he wants, isn't it? To push me into losing my composure. But I won't give him the satisfaction.