My Bratty Wife
Chapter 226 - Two Hundred And Twenty Six

Chapter 226: Chapter Two Hundred And Twenty Six

The soft glow of lamplight cast long, dancing shadows across the walls of their bedchamber. The day, with its somber duties and unexpected encounters, had finally drawn to a close. Suzy sat comfortably on a plush rug before the crackling fireplace, her back straight, clad in a flowing nightgown of pale lavender silk. Her legs were folded neatly beneath her, and her rich auburn hair, washed and dried, cascaded down her back.

Ryan sat on the edge of their large four-poster bed, positioned just behind her. He held a hairbrush in one hand and a section of her hair in the other, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was attempting, with a diligence that far outweighed his skill, to put her hair into a braid for the night.

"Are you quite sure about this, my dear?" Suzy asked, a teasing lilt in her voice, though she kept her head perfectly still. She could feel the occasional, gentle tug as he worked, his fingers surprisingly careful despite their unfamiliarity with the task. "It feels rather... innovative."

Ryan chuckled, a low, warm sound. "Mrs. Agnes gave me a very specific tip the last time I was at the chateau," he replied, meticulously separating a strand of hair. "She claims that if your hair is braided loosely at night, it will be much easier for Irene to style in the morning. Less tangles, apparently. I thought I’d try my hand at assisting the process."

Suzy smiled, touched by his thoughtful, if slightly unconventional, gesture. "Well, that’s very considerate of you, Ryan. Thank you." She relaxed into his services, enjoying the simple intimacy of the moment, the feeling of his hands in her hair.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a few minutes, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire and the gentle swish of the brush. Then, Suzy spoke again, her voice softer this time. "Will you be around for the charity auction, will it be possible for you to attend?"

Ryan’s hands paused in their braiding for a brief moment. He sighed quietly. "Ah, the auction for the orphanage jubilee. I... I might not be able to make that one, my love," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "With Evan’s... situation, and the King wanting daily updates on the murder investigation, I fear I’ll be spending a good deal of time in the city or following leads. But," he added, resuming his clumsy braiding with renewed determination, "I will absolutely, positively be there for the orphanage jubilee. I wouldn’t miss seeing the joy on those children’s faces for anything. I’m truly sorry, Cassandra, for not being able to share more of the preparation burden with you for all these events."

Suzy reached back and gently patted his knee. "Oh, Ryan, it’s perfectly fine," she said sincerely. "You have the weight of the duchy, and now this terrible investigation, on your shoulders. I completely understand." A warm smile spread across her face. "Besides, I’ve genuinely enjoyed every bit of the preparation for both the auction and the jubilee. Choosing the items, coordinating with the committees, seeing it all come together... it’s fulfilling. And my true reward, as you know, will be seeing the orphanage funded and the delighted, happy faces of the children at the jubilee. That makes all the effort worthwhile."

Ryan leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. "You have a heart of gold, Cassandra." He carefully wove the last few strands together and secured the end of the braid with a silk ribbon he’d filched from the dressing table. "There. All done."

"Is it?" Suzy asked, a playful anticipation in her voice. "May I see your handiwork, oh great master of braided?"

"You may," Ryan said, a hint of pride in his tone, though also a touch of nervousness.

Suzy rose gracefully from the floor and walked over to the large, vanity mirror across the room. She peered at her reflection, her hand coming up to touch the braid. For a moment, she was silent. Then, a small giggle escaped her. It quickly grew into a ripple of laughter, then a full-blown, unrestrained peal of mirth that had her clutching her stomach, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Ryan, who had followed her, stood by the dressing table looking utterly bewildered. "What is it? Why are you laughing so much?" he asked, a frown creasing his brow. "Did I pull too tight somewhere? No no... if I did you would have hung my neck on the ceiling because of the pain. "

Suzy tried to speak, but another wave of laughter overtook her. She finally managed to gasp out, "N-nothing! It’s... it’s lovely!"

Ryan’s frown deepened. He leaned closer to the mirror, examining his work critically alongside her reflection. His eyes narrowed. "Oh," he said, his voice flat with dawning realization. "The braid... it’s crooked, isn’t it? And rather lumpy in places." He pointed. "Is that a knot I see near the top?"

Suzy pressed her lips together, trying to stifle another burst of laughter, her shoulders shaking. "Ohh," she said, her voice muffled by her hand. "I... I didn’t really know. It felt... secure."

"But I followed all of Mrs. Agnes’s instructions!" Ryan exclaimed, running a hand through his own hair in frustration. He was a man who excelled at perfection, at strategy, at leading men. How could a simple braid defeat him? "She said three even strands, cross the right over the middle, then the left over the middle. How did I go wrong? What did I do wrong?" He looked genuinely perplexed and a little crestfallen, the perfectionist in him irked by this clear failure. " I even drew pictures so that I wouldn’t forget."

Suzy’s laughter started to subside slowly. She gently wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. "Oh, my dear, dear Ryan," she said, her voice still shaky but filled with affection. " My love, It’s perfect. Truly. Don’t you heed my silliness."

But Ryan was still staring at the lopsided creation in her hair, his brow furrowed. "No, it’s not perfect at all. It’s... structurally unsound. Let me undo it. I can do it again. I’m sure I’ll get it right next time. Perhaps if I concentrate more on the tension of each strand..."

Suzy turned away from the mirror to face him directly. She reached up, took his face gently between her hands, and gave him a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. "My love," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement and deep affection, "it truly is perfect, because you did it. Everything you do with your wonderful hands is perfect to me."

She stepped back, pulling her silk robe tighter around her, the crooked braid bobbing jauntily. With a playful tilt of her head, she asked, "I still look beautiful, though, right? Even with my... uniquely styled hair?"

A slow smile spread across Ryan’s face, his earlier frustration melting away under the warmth of her gaze. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheekbones. "Always," he said, his voice a low, sincere murmur. "You always look beautiful, Cassandra. Especially when you’re laughing."

He drew her into a warm embrace, holding her close. The scent of her hair, the soft silk of her robe, the familiar comfort of her in his arms, was a balm to his soul. He rested his chin on top of her head. "I will miss you," he whispered, the words carrying a weight of impending duties and the brief separations they often had to endure. The investigation loomed, dark and complex, and he knew it would claim much of him in the coming days.

Suzy hugged him back tightly, understanding everything that went unsaid.