Chapter 277 Episode 277.

Human Realm:

Fitzgerald returned shortly before evening.

Mabel heard his footsteps before he even reached her corridor.

She was seated near the fireplace, with a soft fabric resting in her lap. The flowers Charlotte had brought were still on the table, arranged neatly in the glass vase.

She hadn’t touched them since the queen left.

The door opened softly. "You’re still awake."

Mabel looked up.

Fitzgerald stood at the entrance, removing his gloves. His coat was slightly creased, and there was a tiredness around his eyes that hadn’t been there that morning.

She smiled. "I didn’t realise I was supposed to be asleep."

He laughed quietly. "That’s not what I meant."

He walked into the room and placed his gloves on the table.

Mabel closed her book by her side. "Have you had a long day?"

"Long enough."

"Did everything go well?"

"Eventually."

He stopped in front of her.bFor a moment, he simply looked at her. Then he smiled. "I missed you."

Mabel’s expression softened, but did not lkse it’s sharp edge. "As expected."

Fitzgerald leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was a small gesture, but he lingered.

Mabel looked up at him. "You should sit." She gave him am invitation.

He glanced at the space beside her. "Will you make room for me?"

Mabel shifted immediately.

Fitzgerald sat beside her, stretching his legs before leaning back against the sofa.

She watched him. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Only if you’re having something with me."

"I can arrange that."

He caught her hand before she could rise. "Stay."

Mabel looked at him. "I can ask the maid."

"Then ask her."

He didn’t release her hand.

Mabel smiled. "You really don’t want me to move?"

"Not particularly."

She laughed softly.

He seemed pleased with himself.

Mabel reached for the small bell on the table and rang it. When a maid appeared, she requested refreshments for them.

Fitzgerald continued holding her hand until the maid left.

Mabel tilted her head. "I’ve been thinking."

"About what?" He asked readily.

"Nothing important."

He studied her face. "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

Fitzgerald lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Tell me if something is bothering you. Talk to me."

Mabel watched him.

That eagerness to make sure she was comfortable. The way his attention returned to her even when he was exhausted.

It was almost amusing.

She had expected him to be difficult.

A man in his position should have been more guarded. More careful about the women he allowed into his life.

Yet Fitzgerald seemed to have forgotten that caution entirely.

"You’re very attentive," she said.

He smiled. "Is that a complaint?"

"No."

He brought her hand to his chest. "I would hate to disappoint you."

Mabel lowered her gaze. She could have laughed. Instead, she smiled. "I don’t think you could."

Fitzgerald’s expression changed. He looked at her for a moment before leaning closer and kissing her.

Mabel returned the kiss.

He seemed reluctant to pull away when they finally separated.

"You’re going to make it very difficult for me to leave this room again," he murmured.

She laughed. "Then perhaps you shouldn’t leave."

"An interesting suggestion."

She raised a brow at him. "Would it be so terrible?"

"For the country? Probably."

Mabel smiled. Her voice softened as she searched his eyes. "For you?"

He held her gaze. "Not at all."

The maid returned with their refreshments.

Fitzgerald released Mabel’s hand long enough for her to take her cup. He thanked the maid when she placed the tray down, then turned his attention back to Mabel almost immediately.

Mabel noticed he had been away all day, yet he seemed more interested in sitting beside her than discussing whatever business had kept him occupied.

It was a useful discovery. That was a nice way to say he might be keeping secrets.

"Did you eat?" he asked.

Mabel nodded.

"Properly?"

She let out a soft breath. "Yes, Fitz."

He narrowed his eyes playfully. "You’re sure?"

"Would you like me to list everything I ate?"

"That might help." He reached for a small plate and offered her something from it.

Mabel accepted it. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome."

She took a bite while watching him over the rim of her cup.

He was sweet.

Almost excessively so.

And she was beginning to understand how easily he could be encouraged to remain that way.

They spoke for a while about his day.

Fitzgerald told her about a meeting with two ministers who had disagreed over a proposed change to the trade arrangements. He complained about the length of the discussion and the number of times he had been forced to repeat himself.

Mabel listened.

She asked a question here and there, occasionally offering a comment. She didn’t pretend to understand every detail.

She didn’t need to.

Fitzgerald seemed to enjoy explaining things to her. At one point, he stopped speaking and looked at her.

He leaned closer. "I’m still wondering what you were thinking."

Mabel placed her cup down.

His hand found hers again. "Talk to me."

Mabel let him take it.

She was learning that he liked being allowed to touch her. He liked the little gestures, the attention, and the feeling that she welcomed him.

It wasn’t particularly difficult to give him those things. And he was becoming increasingly generous in return.

"Fitz?"

"Hmm?"

"May I ask you something?"

"Anything."

Mabel paused. Just enough to make the question seem like something she had only recently thought of.

"How important is Charlotte to you?"

Fitzgerald’s expression changed slightly. He looked at her. "Charlotte?"

Mabel nodded. "Yes."

He seemed surprised by the question. "Why do you ask?"

She lowered her eyes to their joined hands. "Nothing in particular. I was simply wondering."

Fitzgerald remained quiet for a moment.

Mabel didn’t rush him.bShe allowed the silence to settle between them.

Finally, he leaned back.

"Charlotte is important to me."

Mabel nodded.

"She’s my wife. And the mother of my children."

Mabel nodded slowly. "That must make her very special to you."

"She is."

His answer came easily.

Mabel smiled.

She had expected as much.

It would have been foolish to expect him to say otherwise. A man didn’t need to be particularly devoted to his wife to acknowledge her position.

Still, she wanted to hear him say it. She wanted to understand the place Charlotte occupied in his life.

"Do you love her?" she asked.

Fitzgerald looked at her again. The question seemed to surprise him more than the first.

"Mabel."

She gave a small smile. "Was that too personal?"

"No." He studied her face. "Why are you asking me these things?"

Mabel looked away. "Perhaps I shouldn’t."

He reached for her chin, gently turning her face back towards him. "No, you can talk to me."