Chapter 11: Home and Guilt

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You reap what you sow.

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With the sunset alleviating a humid Ishgar, a panting Aryamna entered his cottage. "I am back!"

Gone were the days of his solitude and recurring sobs. He was now beginning a new stage of life.

He shut the door and then headed towards his bedroom to flop on the bed, the papyrus in his hand he held like a trophy. "Ishvara?" he called. "Ishvara, where are you?"

And then, like a fairy of flour, his wife came all covered in white dust and messy hair.

Aryamna blinked. "Huh?"

Ishvara looked frightened. "I am sorry. I tried to–"

"Oh... What trouble comes now?"
Aryamna sprang out of the bed and ran to the kitchen. The container of wheat flour that was on the topmost shelf was tumbling on the floor, the contents spread all over.

He looked back at Ishvara. Her hands were joined at the back while her eyes feigned to study a modest, simple bucket of water with utmost dedication.

Aryamna crossed his arms. "You tried climbing up or what?"

Her lips quivered. "I-I tried to. I was–"

He raised a hand. "I see. You were trying to cook."

She nodded.

"I had asked you to not overwork. You need time to adjust."

"I am sorry..." She intertwined her fingers. "I just thought to make something before you come back. It is not like I cannot do anything. I just messed it up," she said apologetically.

"But you aren't like me to have hands that can reach up there."

"Who even keeps those up there," she whispered to herself.

"What?"

"I won't repeat this again!"

Aryamna rolled his eyes. "Damn it. This isn't a discord. Don't make me feel so guilty."

"No no!" She waved her hands. "I will learn slowly. But then..."

"But then?"

She crimsoned, scratching her head.
"You know how to cook. But you work a lot. And I still haven't befriended the locals much. They are very kind but I am shy."

Aryamna heaved a sigh. "I understand."

Ishvara stepped aside for Aryamna to clean the floor. What was her fault in it? She just wanted to do something for the man.

But maybe he was right. She should not have touched anything. Now the whole kitchen looked like a lost conquest.

She wanted to slap and rebuke herself. She could not be a good wife. From the very first night things began going downhill.

Dread slashed her heart. Would he leave?

He was a disciplined man and would not tolerate a woman as untidy as her.
She shivered, getting out of her trance when a hand tucked a lock behind her ear. The fingers were cool and slow on her warm skin.

"Fear not, my wife. I will make some arrangements." His fingers froze behind her ear and he quickly gathered himself. "I have some news."

He started kneading a ball of dough. Ishvara sat beside him and peeled off peas.

"The Rajan has given me five days off."

Ishvara was pleasantly surprised. "Really?"

"Yes. I will return to work after the short holiday, though he has given me permission now to return home earlier than usual."

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