suf·fo·ca·tion | noun: a feeling of being trapped and oppressed
The view from the veranda was something Nadia would never tire of. The gardens were so lively in the day that the quiet of the night complimented it so well. The cool sea breeze that came in from docks made the plants dance so beautifully. The bright light of the moon made everything light up with a delicate silver. It was a serene sight.
She escaped to the veranda whenever she needed a moment. And she certainly needed one now. Champagne glass in hand, she steps out onto the marble veranda with a sigh. Behind her, the party continued to talk of nothing yet act like it was the most interesting conversation in the world. She could only take so much. The conversations had grown stale and the atmosphere so stuffy that Nadia could barely breathe. She had to escape, she had to breathe, for just a moment. The slight breeze returned fresh air to her lungs and calmed her mind. Sipping from her glass, the champagne danced across her tongue, the sensation helping bring her back to herself.
These parties were perhaps the hardest thing for Nadia. Often filled with people she didn’t know, and more often than not people she didn’t trust, she could only take so much for so long before she needed some air. Air that wasn’t filled with left handed compliments, polite lies, and side eye glances. Thankfully, the only side eye glances she’d get outside would be from Mercedes and Melchior if they were even around.
“You can be so predictable.” Nadia looks over her shoulder at the familiar voice. Her husband, the count Lucio, walked towards her, obviously having had just one sip too much to drink. “I was looking everywhere for you and were you inside? No, you’re sulking outside like a child because you hate parties.”
“I am not sulking,” she snaps back. “I nearly suffocated from Legatus Savino’s breath, I needed some breathable air.” Lucio barks out a laugh, a ringing noise that could draw the attention from anyone in a room but outside, it merely echoed through the gardens. “Perhaps for the next party, you’ll invite people who can hold my interest.”
“In my defense, this is my party,” Lucio leans against the railing, looking at Nadia with an annoyed expression. “Come on, Nadi, you can put up with this for one night.”
Nadia bristles at the nickname, facing the count with a scowl, “Do not call me that. And I wasn’t planning on leaving the party unless I am no longer welcome?”
“Nonsense, you’re my wife, you’re welcome whether I want you to be or not.” Lucio turns his attention to the silver lit gardens as did she. They stared at nothing, silence hung thick between them for a few moment too long. Moving her glass to her lips again, Lucio’s hand stops her from taking a drink. “No, one of us should be sober tonight.” Standing, he takes the glass from her, “My cape is in my room. Fetch it for me, you’ll get your fresh air and I’ll get my cape, I want to show it off.” Nadia’s glare could have leveled a mountain, but no words were said as she turned on her heels and walked in the direction of Lucio’s room.
“I did invite your family, you know,” Lucio’s voice carried in the veranda so well Nadia heard him as if she was still next to him. “I haven’t had the honor of meeting them yet and I didn’t see any harm. Shame they couldn’t make it.” Nadia doesn’t turn, doesn’t move, the only way Lucio knowing she had heard being that she had stopped walking. He takes a long sip from the glass, finishing it before moving to head back to the party, “Hurry back, it’s not fit for a count to be seen without his countess. They’ll know we hate each other and we can’t have that.”
Lucio heels clicked on the marble floor and disappeared, the only noise Nadia could hear was her own breath. The moon’s light dimmed as clouds rolled over and the cool breeze stilled. The air turned stale, filling her uneven breaths with despair.
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