The last few days were... quiet to say the least. The two barely spoke to each other and the only time they ever really saw each other was in the mornings in their room. (Y/n) had tried on multiple occasions to speak to her husband, but he seemed to ignore her. So, she let it be.

Of course, this would never work. Her anxiety and paranoia growing inside of her. She wanted to talk to him, but she was so very scared. All those years of abuse coming back to her. He had changed that though... he had been kind and gentle, and now, even when he's upset he has yet to lay a hand on her.

(Y/n) found her own reasons to be angry, but they were always short lived and replaced quickly by anxiety. She had gotten upset at the sound of his quill against paper in the middle of the night before moments later becoming relaxed by the sound and anxious of making any sounds that'll distract him.

She had gotten upset when he didn't join her to eat, but quickly got paranoid and left him food by the door. She still needed to make sure he was eating and staying healthy after all. And (Y/n) only knew he ate when she'd go into his office hours later and find an empty plate.

(Y/n) also found herself becoming irritable when she found him staring at her, especially in the mornings. She could be doing the simplest of things and he'd have his notepad and a pen, just staring at her. There were many times when she wanted to turn around and snap at him, but this was the fastest her anxiety and paranoia caught up.

Perhaps she wasn't pretty enough anymore? (Y/n) started spending longer taking ready but that didn't stop the staring.

By the end of the week, (Y/n) couldn't handle this silence anymore. She went to her husbands sewing room and knocked. Though perhaps it had been too quiet, too much hesitation in her movements. She knocked once more and earned an irritated "come in."

There he was, scribbling in his notepad, drawing a new pattern for his clothes. He barely even looked up at the woman, giving her an annoyed, inquiring hum as she closed the door behind her.

"A-are you upset with me?" (Y/n) asked, trembling, trying not to cry as she stood in front of the desk.

"Yes." Trender grunted before pausing in his movements and palming his forehead. "Ugh, no. I'm just annoyed."

"B-because of me...?"

"Yes and no, but it's not your fault. You didn't understand what was happening. I'm just annoyed at myself for getting so upset about this." He sighed, 'looking' up at (Y/n).

"S-so you are not divorcing me?" She asks, looking scared.

"What? No!" (Y/n) let out a sigh of relief before stepping around the desk and standing beside Trender.

"Thank you, husband. I will accept any punishment you have for me." She said bowing her head. Trender's chest tightened in annoyance and he stood up, slamming his hands on the desk.

"You are not being punished! You have been nothing but darling since you've arrived. You have done nothing wrong and getting slapped around is not normal: it is abuse." Trender exclaimed, looking directly at (Y/n). She paled in fear, but her mind refused to panic, processing his words as caring and understanding; not a violent blind rage like she had grown used to.

Even without her panic, she began to cry, in turn, Trender panicked. He approached her slowly and knelt down to embrace her, apologizing for raising his voice and that she wasn't in trouble. (Y/n) slumped slightly and held onto him, sobbing with relief as her legs seemed unable to hold her weight.

"I-I know I- I... thank you." She muttered in her sobbing. Trender rubbed her back lightly, wondering how he would carry out his next moves.

"I would appreciate an explanation about the Dragosapps." He stated, somewhat awkwardly. (Y/n)'s cheeks flushed red.

"Ah... yes. Draggosapps is a popular fruit in elf culture used in many different. However, it is only between two elves the fruit can hold many purposes. In interspecies relations a Dragosapp has two: intimacy and eternal binding." (Y/n) explained, messing with the fabric of her dress.

"And you thought I got the draggosapps to be intimate with you?"

"Yes, they are for interspecies breeding."

"Interspecies breeding? It's a little early for that." Trender questions, entirely confused by her thought process.

"I suppose so. But most arranged marriages end up in pregnancy a month later, a-and we have been together for a month, have we not?" (Y/n) ponders aloud, confused once more. "Do you not want children?"

"What? Do you even want children? I am not having sex with you when I'm certain you've never even done it before." Trender retorts. "Besides, I wouldn't want to give you a child then have you look back on this years later and regret it because there was never any love."

"And if I did?" She asks once more.

"If you did what?"

"Love you."

"Well then you'd regret it because I don't love you." Trender's words slipped from his mouth carelessly, but when he realized what he said he went to say something else, but was taken aback by the expression on (y/n)'s face.

She looked confused, surprised and, most of all, hurt. Trender watched as she swallowed and that meek and scared woman he first met returned. She held her hands together and nodded before nodding her head while looking down.

"I-I think I understand. I will start on dinner." Her voice was void of any emotion as she swiftly left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Trender slammed his fist on the desk with a growl. He didn't mean to say that. That's not what he meant. But why did she even look upset? Surely she didn't actually understand what he said, right? ...right?

*********************************************

(Y/n) found herself in their shared bathroom as she crumbled to her knees in a physical pain she did not understand. Her chest was burning, as well as her eyes. Her body felt so heavy as she tried to keep herself up on one hand as the other covered her mouth to hide a sob.

Why did that hurt? It wasn't like she loved him. Sure he makes her smile and laugh... but he doesn't love her. And why would he? She's a malnourished slave woman who probably couldn't even carry a child, even if she wanted one. She had no idea how to please him or even how to be his life partner. She was just his wife.

But maybe that's what hurt her the most. Being a wife was supposed to be better than single and enslaved, wasn't it? Someone would take care of you instead of you just taking care of them.

Looking in the mirror, (Y/n) wondered if perhaps it wasn't that she was becoming ugly, but that she was too beautiful for him. He seemed so underwhelmed when he was promised and given "the most beautiful woman" for his bride. Perhaps he didn't want a beauty.

But what could she even do? She had nothing more to give than her body. And clearly he never wanted that.

*********************************************

When Trender found (Y/n) she was doing as she said she would, making dinner, despite it still being only mid day. She must've realized that as well when she found herself moving too fast and pausing.

Trender wasn't quite sure what to say, watching her pace around. He didn't know if she was upset by what he said or even if she was still thinking about it. He'd read her mind, but he did not understand her thoughts, they were in a foreign language.

"Are you making lunch as well? It is still the afternoon." Trender asks, watching her body freeze. She probably didn't even realize he was there since she was so focused.

"No, husband. You had lunch with your brother on your calendar today, and I am not hungry." She answers, avoiding eye contact and not even turning her body toward him. Trender internally frowned knowing that something he had said in their quick conversation had upset her.

"Ah, yes. I was just about to head out for that. Do you need anything while I'm gone?"

"No thank you, husband." That title tasted sour on her lips as she listened to him walk out of the kitchen.

Trender groaned in annoyance as he made his way to the bakery to grab lunch with Offender. It wasn't a common lunch so he hadn't expected it to get in the way of anything, but with what just happened... perhaps he needed some advice.

"I'm not sure why she asked, I thought she was too sheltered to even know what sex is." Trender explained, venting out his frustrations to his 'ladies man' of a brother.

"I hate to say it, cause I know she's only your wife from an arranged marriage, but if she is as immature as you say she is, then I can only assume she never got to indulge in anything of the sort. She's probably attracted to you without even realizing it, her body knows, but she doesn't, so that would be her only way of communicating it." Offender rambled off with a casual smirk, but it wasn't to be his regular cocky self. He was just explaining his theory.

Unfortunately, Trender found himself agreeing with Offender's thought process. He just didn't want to hurt her or have her become attached to him. But if this is what she needed to stop being so scared and shy, Trender would be willing to try.

Trender returned home later to find a plate ready for him and an empty one already drying. He was going to just sit down and eat, but he was worried (Y/n) might've done something brash. So before he'd eat, he searched the house for her.

He found her in their bedroom, pulling at her skin. Her hair was down and she had on a nightgown. She was laying in her side, facing him with her eyes closed. Judging by the tear tracks stained red on her cheeks, he knew she'd been crying.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" Trender asks, brushing some loose hair out of the woman's face. He watched as (Y/n)'s cheeks flared red in embarrassment, but she didn't move away. This was something else.

Perhaps she was attracted to him.