Story for the day: The Ring
This is a sliver of a chapter from book 6. Enjoy.
Margilesse took a few breaths to calm the celeritous beating of her heart and professed that she greatly enjoyed her present. She exchanged a gentle laugh with her husband but was told that his contribution had only been given in part. She looked at him in bemusement and watched him reach into the back of the pantry where her short stature had never allowed her to go.
Sheamas brought to his wife a small black box and placed it in her hand while tucking her golden hair behind her ear. “I had the silversmith make it as small as possible,” he said with an affectionate smile.
Upon hearing that the silversmith had fashioned whatever was in the box, Margilesse stared at Sheamas in terrified disappointment. “But you said no gifts this year because we were supposed to be saving for the baby.”
Sheamas averted his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck. “I got this before I said that,” he bashfully admitted.
“Open it, mho cri,” he begged her, giving her a fond look.
Margilesse inhaled and parted her lips to contest, but the adoring look in her husband’s blue eyes compelled her to submit. She sighed, defeated by his kindness, and opened the box to find a band of pure silver nesting in the center. She gasped in shock and would have dropped the box onto the counter were it not for her husband bolstering her. Her hand began to shake. Her sensibilities were in peril of giving way. She wished she could manage to express her sentiment but no words came. She could only sit and stare at her husband’s dutiful countenance. A quiver of a lip, a surge of emotion and Margilesse had done. She could no longer bear her husband’s inexhaustible forbearance and affection with civility and she cried in her hand. The trials she had suffered in the past few years had weakened her resolve but the constancy of Sheamas ever at her side had been her boundless strength. He was unshakeable in his spirited manner and positive approach and she felt she owed all her happiness to him. The trial of a malicious family, of disownment and abandonment would have been insupportable if not for the immoveable sweetness of such a husband. Though it had been a few years since they married, his adulation of her had not lessened for a day. He had never spoken a word in haste or in anger and had never disparaged her for any failing she might have believed herself to be in possession of. He was never out of humour with her even when she was out of humour with herself. He had accepted her wholly, in form and character, from the day he asked her to live with him and she never believed she would find so compassionate a creature hiding behind the counter of a butcher shoppe.
Sheamas simpered at her and cradled her in the bend of his arm. “I didn’t have the money to get you one when we were married,” he said, plucking the tiny ring from the box and placing it on her finger.
Margilesse sobbed, regarding the gleaming silver flickering between her falling tears. “How did you put aside enough for this without me knowing?”
“I made a few alterations to the orders,” Sheamas said, softly rubbing her back. “We’re doin’ well enough now that I can more than afford it. I take care of you just as you do for me and I want others to know that.” He crushed his wife in his excruciating embrace and pressed his nose against the side of her golden head. “So much good has happened to us in the past little while, mho cri. It’s not right that we don’t celebrate it.” He placed his hand underneath his wife’s chin to lift her gaze to his. “Don’t you thank me nor do anythin’ special,” he warned her, tapping the tip of his finger along the end of her nose. “It’s somethin’ I wanted to do.”
Margilesse, so surmounted by her own desire to do or say anything in return, could only think of one reply. “Do you want the roast now or later?” she sniffed in gratitude.
Sheamas chuckled, enveloped her in his large arms, kissed her reddened cheeks and decided on having the roast later once he had done devouring his luscious wife.