James chuckled softly and lifted his large, cool hands to Eleanor's warm cheeks. He smiled at her, an expression that showed such love and care for his uneasy wife. It calmed her a little to know he was there and he did not despise her for disobeying him. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
“My darling, I hardly doubt you could ever go insane, your mind is much too strong for that.”
Then he brought his lips to hers again. She received it less passively this time, capturing his lips and returning it with her own affection. His words in some part comforted her. Over the past week she had been so very afraid she had truly been losing her mind. She felt she was losing a grasp on reality and desperately slipping into a world of terror she could not find a way out of. Things seemed to be getting progressively worse as her state of mind weakened. But his belief in her gave her a little more strength and allowed her to push her ensuing panic back for a time.
“I on the other hand. I fear you will drive me stir mad!” James teased her, bringing a small smile to her pale features. It wasn't until Eleanor had her husband at her side that she realised quite how much she'd missed him these past few days. Eleanor understood how very busy he was, and for that reason she did not blame him for his absence. But being with him now only made her crave his presence more. She prayed that when they retook the throne and James was safe in his position he would have a little more time to spend with her, though she knew any dreams of such a fate were probably just a fantasy.
Eleanor watched James' resolve crack. “Damn you woman,” he chuckled, shaking his head. His words instantly brought relief to Eleanor and she released the breath she didn't realise she had been holding. She had got herself in such a state over being forced by him to return to battling with her demons in her confinement that the news that he was going to give in to her began to gently smooth her ragged nerves.
“But you are wrong, those knaves in there cannot tell me anything about Edwin’s disappearance, it’s just speculation, speculation. We shall go and sit in my chambers then, you look like you could use as seat.”
As James led her slowly down the hall, Eleanor sighed and rolled her eyes in an attempt to dismiss her husband's concerns over her well-being. Though worry for her baby plagued Eleanor's every waking thought, she did not want her husband's terror to mirror her own. He had such a lot to worry about already that she feared further concern for her and their child may bring him even closer to his tipping point. Before him, she needed to portray the illusion that she was without fear and positive everything would go well.
They walked slowly together until they reached his chambers. Eleanor was entirely grateful that he kept a slow pace, to appear exhausted by such a short walk or to have to ask him to slow down wouldn't have helped her case in the slightest. James directed her towards the cushy seat right by the fire and, placing one hand on the small of her back and another on the arm of the chair, she gently lowered her weight into the seat. She felt the cushions give beneath her as it accommodated her body and the fire instantly began to warm her. James had been right, standing had been highly uncomfortably, and now she was sat down, she felt a little less guilty. Though she couldn't bear to be in her confinement, she was fully aware that the purpose of it was to prevent the baby from coming too soon. So many times that week, Eleanor had found herself torn between standing and moving around, trying anything to distract herself from her torturous thoughts, and wanting to sit perfectly still for her baby's safety and health. She had battled with herself, and more and more she had found her own selfish terror winning out over what she knew she should have chosen.
“So, my love, tell me, what you know about Edwin?”
As he spoke, Eleanor remembered her desperate exaggeration that she might know where Edwin was, and now she had to give her husband something about his brother. She cast her mind back to their conversation a few days previously, which must have been just before he left. She'd stopped him in the halls, yet another attempt to occupy her troubled mind. She'd asked after the weather outside, as he'd just returned in and she was forbidden from going out into the fresh air. He had told her it was chilly and that he was sure snowfall was due soon. Then, out of good manners, Eleanor was sure, he had enquired after her health, to which Eleanor had given the usual answer, that she was well. However, as Edwin's eyes fell on the clock, he took on a slightly more jumpy demeanour. He had then excused himself rather hastily, telling her he was running late for something important he had to do. But when he left, Eleanor thought she had noticed a sense of hopefulness that wasn't usually evident in James' quite, introverted brother.
"When I spoke with him, he excused himself from the conversation quickly after noticing the time, telling me he was late for something important he had to do," Eleanor explained. "I don't think he simply ran away, James. I think he was going somewhere in particular, to do something he had planned. He seemed hopeful about whatever it was." She knew it wasn't much that she could offer, but hoped it gave her husband some peace of mind about his brother's safety.
By now, the fire was now warming her quite comfortably, removing all of the tension from her body. She hadn't realised how much she had needed this. For the first time in what felt like an age, Eleanor finally felt calm. She rested her head back against the chair and her eyes closed briefly as she relaxed. But, in an instant, her vision was consumed with the image of her child, tiny, his white skin tinted blue and horrifically stained with red blood. Her eyes flew open again, wide with shock, unable to mask her horror. Suddenly, responding to his mother's emotional turmoil, her baby landed a hard kick in tender flesh between her right hip bone and her pubic bone. Eleanor gasped sharply and her hand flew to the source of the pain, doubling over slightly.