Pots and pans clinked together. The footsteps of the serfs and peasants created tremors in the damp ground. The dull blue morning light hardly shone through the thick clouds above. Golden lanterns were the only light around. I paced through the cold, stone halls of the manor house. That afternoon through supper time would be nothing but busy for me. A family of nobles, the Fiddheanh family was to join us at House of Valor as well as my husband’s arrival back from the port city of Galway on the western side of the island. 

Needless to say, it was going to be a very busy day. The leather soles of my shoes made a muted clop against the stone floor. Each breath felt like being splashed by a harsh wave, a drowning feeling. Air was more suffocating than it was rejuvenating at that moment.

I rushed out of the manor house to observe how the serfs were doing with the chores I gave them for the fifth time within the hour. Another deep breath, another suffocating wave. Everything had to be perfect for that night. If my husband, Cecil came back to anything less than perfection – If the Fiddheanh family arrived to a supper anything less than impeccable, what kind of Lady would I be?

    “Come on Elodie,” I told myself. A lady should never let herself sweat. It was undoing of a woman to do so, “do not fret. Everything will go perfectly!”

    Despite my own cheeriness and flawlessly bubbly attitude, I was doing just as I had told myself not to. I was fretting. My eyebrows furrowed and I let out a frustrated sigh. It would be perfect. It had to be.

  “Serfs!” I yelled to address the workers who were now staring at me rather worriedly, “what do you think you’re doing!? Get back to work!” I demanded, my voice echoing across the halls like a whip cracking, telling the workers to get on with it or else. 

    I spent all hours of the morning having the serfs clean every inch of the manor house and preparing the stalls for Lord Cecil and the Fiddheanh family’s arrival. The sound of my leather soles against the stone floor began to drive me insane. Every little imperfection, every single hair out of place had to be corrected before anyone dared step foot in our manor. 

    At only half past noon, the gates to the manor opened and my husband and his knight rode into our land. A bout of nervousness filled my senses as I waited inside to greet him. It was my first time running the manor on my own so I couldn’t help but wonder, “Have I done a good enough job?” King Regal gave this land to us, but did we deserve it?

As the Lord of our manor, Cecil has always held the most power on our land. Although he’s been rather kind to me, I can not say if his courtesy will continue. I was lucky to have gotten the chance to marry out of love. I can only pray my luck will not run out with him.

    I took in a deep breath as the knight opened the doors to our house for Cecil. A welcoming smile graced my lips as I began to speak, “Welcome home, my Lord. I hope you travels were-” 

    However my words were promptly cut off by my own small yelp as I felt Cecil’s arms pick me up by my waist. He held me close to him as he did a small spin before putting me down. 

    “They were, my Lady Elodie,” Cecil unhesitatingly replied to my question. 
    “And please, my dear, do not put on that face when you are greeting me, yes?” 

    I looked at him in confusion before realizing what he meant. “Oh. The smile.” I was wearing the same smile I did whenever greeting a guest. One that was often fake. 

    “Apologies, my Lord. I will refrain from doing such a thing in the future.”

Cecil could only shake his head with a fond sigh. I knew he wasn’t all that thrilled with how I always apologize, but he’d just have to deal with it. 

    With the Lord of the manor around once more, preparations for supper with the Fiddheanh’s were completed not long before they were set to arrive. With a deep breath, one that no longer felt suffocating, I let my body fall back onto the bed I had been sitting on. This rare moment of peace felt liberating, yet I still had that weight of the oceans on my shoulders. 

    I heard someone’s footsteps approaching the bedroom, yet I couldn’t bother myself to sit up and check. “Elodie, dear, are you feeling sickly?” Cecil’s gentle voice called out. 

    I opened my eyes to see Cecil’s pale face hovering above mine, a worried expression painting his features. With a yawn, I simply grumbled tiredly and turned over onto my side. I heard Cecil sigh and mutter something under his breath. The bed sank underneath Cecil’s weight as he lowered himself onto the bedding.