Warm light spilled gently through the sheer cream curtains of the spacious bedroom, casting soft golden streaks across the marble floor and the edges of the king-sized bed. The soft rustle of linens accompanied Carmilla's groan as she stirred awake, shielding her eyes from the rays that signaled the beginning of a new day, her first full morning as Mrs. Harrington.
She slowly opened her eyes and turned her head toward the other side of the bed. To her surprise, Harrison was already awake, sitting up against the headboard, his face calm and content as he looked down at her.
"Morning," he said in a low, affectionate tone. "Did you sleep well?"
Still groggy, Carmilla sat up, rubbing her eyes before offering a sleepy nod. "Yeah… I did," she replied, her voice husky with sleep.
As she stretched and yawned, a warm, savory aroma filled her senses—something rich, buttery, and undeniably inviting. Her stomach let out a small, traitorous growl. She blinked, eyes widening as she noticed a breakfast tray elegantly arranged on the side table.
Her face was full of disbelief. "Uhmm… did you make this?"
A chuckle rumbled softly in Harrison's chest as he reached for the tray. "Yes, I did. Your father mentioned you like your breakfast served in bed. I thought… it'd be a nice way to start the day."
He carefully set the tray in front of her, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, toast with honey, and freshly brewed coffee. The delicate porcelain dishes added a luxurious touch, yet the effort behind it was what struck her most.
"If you'd like, I could do this every morning," he offered gently. "You don't have to join the rest of the family for breakfast. Not until you feel ready."
Carmilla blinked at him. "Wouldn't that be rude of me?"
He shook his head with a soft smile. "It's okay. I'll talk to my mother about it."
His voice was steady, reassuring. Everything about his demeanor this morning was so unexpected—gentle, unforced, warm.
He picked up the coffee pot and began pouring her a cup.
"If you don't mind," he said, his tone shifting into something more serious, "I'd like to talk about something."
Curious, Carmilla gave a small nod, watching him over the rim of the cup as he handed it to her.
"I know this marriage wasn't something either of us planned," he said. "We're both here because of our parents' decisions, not ours. I just want you to know… you don't have to feel uncomfortable with me. This house, this life—consider it yours. And as for us… take your time. We can get to know each other at your pace."
His words lingered in the air between them, sincere and unpressured. He rose to his feet and walked toward the wardrobe, beginning to dress for the day in a dark tailored suit.
"You're going somewhere?" she asked, her voice softer than before.
"Yes," he said, adjusting his cufflinks. "I have an early meeting at the office. I won't be long. If you need anything, ask the house staff. They'll attend to you."
He slung his briefcase over his shoulder and gave her a final glance. "Take care of yourself, Carmilla."
Then he was gone.
Carmilla sat frozen for a moment, staring at the door as it gently clicked shut behind him. She blinked, bewildered.
"What just happened?" she whispered to herself. "Why was he being… nice? And breakfast in bed?"
She looked down at the tray and bit her lip.
"Oh God—" she gasped. "I didn't even ask if he had eaten."
With a guilty huff, she picked up her fork and began to eat. The scrambled eggs were light and fluffy, the bacon just the right amount of crisp, and the toast had been buttered with surprising precision. She took a sip of the coffee, it was strong, smooth, and comforting.
As she lifted another forkful to her lips, her phone rang, sharp and sudden, vibrating across the nightstand.
Startled, she snatched it up.
"Hey, wifey!" came Mia's unmistakable voice, bright with mischief, though tinged with a trace of nervous energy.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything…"
Carmilla chuckled, her lips curving into a real smile for the first time that morning. "Not at all. I'm just having breakfast."
"Ooh… breakfast in bed? Sounds like a story I need to hear," Mia teased.
Carmilla rolled her eyes playfully, even though her cheeks flushed. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing! I mean, your voice sounds weirdly calm. Did something… happen last night?"
"Mia!" Carmilla laughed, cutting her off before she could spiral. "Don't start. Nothing happened."
"Uh-huh. Sounds like something didn't happen," Mia snorted. "Anyway, what did I even call for again? Oh right! I'm heading back to work tomorrow."
Carmilla sat up straighter. "Wait, really? Already?"
There was a pause, and then a long sigh from the other end.
"My manager booked me for a bunch of appointments this week. I guess I overstayed."
Carmilla frowned, swirling the coffee in her cup. "And why do you sound so sad about it?"
"I don't know," Mia admitted, her voice softer now. "I guess I just… feel bad leaving you. It's all happening so fast."
"If I had my way," Carmilla said, smiling, "I'd have you quit and live with me. You've done so much for me already, Mia. Asking for more would just make me selfish."
"Aww," Mia sniffed, pretending to sob. "Stop it, you're going to make me cry before boarding a plane. But seriously, come visit me sometime, yeah?"
"I will," Carmilla promised. "As soon as I get the chance."
"Good. I'll be expecting that visit. I need to rest before my trip. Love ya."
"Love you too," Carmilla replied softly.
The call ended, and silence returned to the room. The tray sat half-finished on her lap, but her appetite had faded.
" Okay, it is time to start the day" she said to herself.