Lisbet lay on the bed, her thoughts elsewhere, somewhere she had the life she wanted and was not tethered to the relentlessness of this one.

She was startled back to reality by the sound of someone fumbling heavily at the doorknob. That someone was obviously her husband, and from the sounds of it he was exceedingly inebriated. She had been too late to bed and now she would surely have to listen to the cacophony of his drunken snores the entire night.

She leapt out of bed and readied herself, hands on her hips and lips pursed angrily. She was not going to let him get away with it again. No… certainly this time she was going to give him an earful. She was aching for a fight, it had been a week since they had even spoken and irritation was ready to burst from her, like the contents of a shaken bottle. It would serve the drunken lout right. How dare he come and share a room with her in this state.

Cordelll finally managed to pull open the door and walked through. Lisbet thought he looked particulary drunk as he was swaying slightly and rubbing the back of his neck in a way that suggested he had possibly fallen down and hurt himself. Well… he would get no sympathy from her, he deserved to fall over. Maybe it would teach him a lesson not to stay out drinking with that dreadful Alexis.

The he looked up at her, and she gasped as she saw his face. His left eye was almost swollen shut, a dark and vicious bruise beginning to form around it. Dried blood crusted his nostrils and lips, and she was extremely disturbed to see a gashed wound on his neck. Her first thought had been of a fight, perhaps some drunken disagreement. But she felt sure these were wounds not simply made by some disgruntled drunk.

He stretched his back, his face twisted into a grimace of pain.

For the first time since she had been married to him, Lisbet was at a complete loss for words. She stood there gaping at him, her planned curses dying on her lips.

Cordell’s eyes suddenly focused on her, as if he was only just noticing her presence in the room. His expression changed to one of anger and he raised his hands upwards, “Why have you given me such a harridan for a wife God? Do you see the way she looks at me, her ugly mouth opening and shutting like a trout’s”.

Lisbet abruptly shut her mouth, offended by his comment more deeply than she could bring herself to admit.

Cordell now had his head in his hands and was writhing in agony.

“I cannot bear it… the pain… I feel like I am burning up inside. My head… oh god… it is surely going to split apart”.

“And you woman, you stand by and do nothing for me. Why was I to be cursed with one such as you with no redeeming features whatsoever”.

He was now pressing his fingers into his eyes, almost as though he was trying to rub the image of her standing in front of him away. She could hear his breath coming out in ragged gasps of pain.

When he looked up again, she had to stifle a gasp. His face was contorted in rage, his upper lip curled into a snarl. His teeth were clenched so tightly, Lisbet thought she should be able to hear the noise of them grinding against one another from where she stood.

“Stop talking woman! I do not want to hear your wretched, whiney voice anymore tonight! No… make that never again. Speak again and I will cut your sniping tongue from your mouth”.

Lisbet did not know how to react to this, and she had to bit her lip to stop her teeth from chattering together. She had not spoken a word since he entered the room.

She watched silently as he dressed himself for bed. It was evident he was in a great deal of pain, she could see him whinceing at every movement, his body trembling all over. For some disturbing reason she had an overwhelming urge to wrap him in her arms and hold him until the trembling subsided.

She shook her head slowly to rid herself of this thought. How could she think this after what he had just said to her. Still… she could not believe he had meant it. He had never spoken as such to her, never threatened her. It was not her husband speaking but some fever coursing through his body. She once again had to resist the urge to reach out and touch his skin to feel if it were hot. He carefully put himself into bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin, his body shivering uncontrollably despite the warmth of the night.

He was soon in a deep but disturbed slumber. Lisbet stood by his bed and watched as he moaned and mumbled, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his brow drenched with sweat. A new feeling she had not yet experienced in conjunction with her husband was growing in her, starting at the bottom of her stomach and working its way up to constrict her throat. Lisbet was desperately afraid.