The garments hanging in the wardrobe, the tomes arranged on the shelves, the jewelry tucked away in carved wooden boxes... I sorted through each item, one by one, feeling nothing. Not a single thread of attachment remained.
When he returned to the den that evening, it took him a long while to notice how much had vanished from the rooms.
He wandered over to where I stood, his tone light and unconcerned. "Why are you packing things away? Replacing the old with new?"
I didn't lift my gaze. "Everything here is worn and faded. Time for a change."
He let out a low chuckle. "That's fair. You work so hard managing pack affairs for me—you deserve to treat yourself better. Claim whatever you desire from the tribute stores."
I offered no response. Just continued folding and sorting.
That night, fresh from the bathing springs, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive rumble. "Perhaps tonight we could...?"
I steadied myself and stepped out of his embrace, keeping my tone flat. "My heat cycle just passed, and the aftermath still lingers. I don't feel well."
He paused, confusion flickering across his features. "Hasn't it been four days since your heat ended?"