The General's Wife Wants to Leave-Chapter 189: To get used to

On the left side of where Joanna was sitting, there were about four to five people who could see what she was doing due to their distance, where visible range could reach her direction, compared to the other people who sat at the lower end.

Meanwhile, across from the table where she sat, there were around four to six people who seemed to be unable to move their eyes away from the position in which she was sitting side by side with her husband, the General of Archess.

Maintaining her composure as it was what she wanted others to see in her, while in truth she was actually hiding indecipherable feelings along with her pounding heart, as on her lap, her hand was being caressed by none other than the man who seemed to forget the purpose of why they passed a long journey leaving Barasca and attending the present banquet.

Instead of enjoying the first courses that were laid on the table, he was immersed in stroking the two jewelry pieces that adorned her bare hand. However, although his attention was on the jewelry that he gave her, what he stroked was actually her skin.

It was the first time he held her hand without gloves covering her hand. No one had ever touched her bare hand with that kind of prolonged caressing gesture. Not even her father and brother, as although they were family, there were boundaries and propriety that had to be followed, particularly when she turned into a teenager.

She wanted to pull her hand away or ask him to stop doing what he was currently doing, as another foreign invasion that was provided by him to the other part of her body had somehow made her uncomfortable, yet it made her able to again feel the skin of his palm that had touched her shoulders a few moments ago, causing her to wonder if every man’s palm was that rough.

But if she recalled her father’s hand that always held and caressed hers when she was a kid, it was not as rough as the hand that was now caressing hers.

Looking down at their hands, the contrast of their skin could now be seen clearly. It was then that Joanna realized, more than before, that his life was harsher than that of her father or her brother.

He was a soldier, not a noble man, who had the privilege to have a more comfortable and unharmed life than him. When the nobility slept under the roof, surrounded by sturdy walls in a warm room with soft mattresses, he and his fellow soldiers might have to sleep under the sky without roofs and walls protecting them. There was also no warmth or softness to provide comfort.

Nonetheless, without those calloused hands and sun-kissed skin, he would probably not have obtained what he had achieved. He would not have sat as an honored guest with the royalty surrounding him, although a miracle needed to exist for him to gain a sincere welcome.

Raising her head to see the man whose palm was rough, Joanna still found him gazing at the jewelry that she wore. A smile was evident on his face.

Was he that happy with her wearing the gifts he gave her? Was it really that meaningful?

As Joanna had her head raised, she noticed from the corner of her eyes that she was still not free from the focus of others on her. Perhaps it was not only at her but also at the man beside her, at whom people around them were still having their probing eyes fixated at the moment, adding to the discomfort inside her that urged her to free her hand from his hold.

But she refrained from doing something that would probably take away the smile on his face just for the sake of others whose gaze bore no respect or kindness for him.

Besides, after taking some consideration based on what recently transpired between them and recalling all the tenderness and care he had showered warmly on her as well, Joanna wanted to learn to get used to all the affectionate gestures that he had step by step introduced to her. Not because of guilt or compassion, as he asked from her.

She was not sure if she could. She was also not sure if what she was doing at the moment was free of those feelings. But she would try, although she was not sure how.

Moreover, she was aware that it was inevitable if she decided to embark on the marriage journey with him for the rest of her life, just like how he valued their marriage and how he told her about the meaning of his favorite number: that she would become his wife until his breath was no longer found in this realm.

Remembering that heart-touching confession, Joanna felt something that was still hard to decipher in her heart. But one thing for sure that was not hard to decipher for her at the moment was the many pairs of eyes that were on them.

Despite her eagerness to act like a normal wife who was accustomed to the affection displayed by her legal husband and that it was normal for husband and wife to have a sort of skinship with each other, finding the onlookers’ attention on them, Joanna found that it was hard to get rid of the discomfort that lingered inside her.

She felt uncomfortable with the continuous caress on her hand, although she wanted to get used to it. But she was more uncomfortable with the way the onlookers’ probing eyes were directed at the man beside her and also at her.

It made her want to suggest they enjoy their meals instead of watching what was performed by a married couple sharing affection with a sort of disdainful look. Or else, she wanted to tell them to share affection with their spouse, who sat by their sides. But how could they do that if their spouses were also keeping their eyes on her and her husband?

However, with regard to where they were at the moment, most of the part inside Joanna where her logic could still work, she knew that it was reckoned as a normal response to receive from their actions.

Joanna knew that what she and her husband performed was not showing much decorum in their dining manner.

If their conversation about the jewelry was brief, and if they did not act like no one was present around them and the man next to her did not act like he forgot their main purpose to be on this banquet and was like bewitched by the items that he had given her, Joanna would have been certain that it was not wrong if she reminded them that looking at others disdainfully was presumptuous.

Nonetheless, there was one reason that made them nail their eyes on her and her husband that way, which was not unknown to Joanna.

’Disgusting.’

’Shameless.’

It was the words that she heard a few seconds ago that came from a lady who was one or two seats away on her left side. But she chose to play deaf or pretend to be naive, thinking that those imbecile words were aimed at others, not at him or her.

Yet she could not help but analyze because she knew that those words were not aimed at others but at her husband and also at herself. She was involved because she did not object to being caressed by a lowly man like him, particularly during dining time. Further than that, they were now at the royal place to celebrate a royal event.

Based on her experience sitting with royal relatives or other nobility, no such demeaning words had she ever heard from the noble mouths. It was again about social status. Nobility and commoners. Upper class and lower class. Water and oil.

In their eyes, once again, nobility should only be mixed with nobility. The commoner should only be united with the commoner. They should not be blended with each other because they bore different classes of blood. If they were mixed in a marriage, then the haughty blood would plummet to the level of the humble blood, although the marriage happened by royal decree.

From the beginning, when Joanna was at the age where she understood what happened in the outside world, she always wondered why there was such a differentiation towards the same living, breathing human being.

They breathed the same air. When they died, they would be buried under the ground, and they brought nothing but the flesh that would soon decompose and turn into soil. But why should one see themselves as more mighty than others?

And about her husband: What did he do wrong to make him demean like that?

He was an Archessan, not a Terran. But because he was a soldier, the guardian of his land, he had to obey his King to defend the land that was not his. But still, respect was not returned. And she had heard him treated that way twice today.

However, she realized that not all people put disrespect on him, as there were people like Mrs. Powel who had her eyes lit with enthusiasm when she introduced him to that kind-hearted elderly.

There was also a broad smile of felicity on Mr. Simone and his assistant’s lips and a surprised as well as admiring look on the receptionist lady’s face in the Greymore inn when they met the General of Archess, who had protected their land from Valthian, in person.

She was not sure about the King of Terra. But she was sure that if the King did not see the importance of the youngest General of Archess, the way he valued the General would probably be the same. He was just a commoner-lowly person in another term.

And Joanna knew that her husband was actually used for the sovereign’s benefits. She also became one of the pawns for that goal.

Yet fortunately, the man who had become the political pawn, like her, was really showing that what he had said was not false. He ignored all of them while having his eyes lowered toward the wedding ring and birthday gift that were now shining on her hand.

She hoped that he really did not hear that word this time. She hoped that he had his focus solely on his gifts, not others.

"Thank you for the gifts, Sir Canillas. I really appreciate it," Joanna said. "Can we start eating now?" She finally voiced out her mind when Canillas lifted his head, breaking his immense focus from her hand towards her face.

She was unable to bear the invasions from all the cardinal directions anymore, despite all the consideration she had in her mind. She felt impatient to finish their meal soon and leave the suffocating place to return home as quickly as possible, away from all the eyes and words that were not pleasant to her senses.

All Joanna wanted was to breathe deeply, letting the free air extinguish the burn of discomfort in her lungs.