"Royce?" He heard a voice outside his chamber.
"Are you in there?" He recognized his sister's voice, and he told her to enter.
"God Royce! What happened?" She asked, horrified as she took in his unkempt appearance and the half-empty bottle next to him.
"Life," he answered and proceeded to pour himself another glass.
"Stop it, you fool," she took the bottle from his grasp and emptied the contents of the glass in a flowerpot.
"I am sick of seeing you like this. You've been back what, a week or so, and you have been moping continuously. What is wrong with you?" She asked angrily.
"Damn... damn," he punched his fists into the table.
"It's all gone," he whispered in a drunken stupor. "Gone, gone, gone." He kept on repeating.
"What is gone, Royce?" She asked patiently. Royce did not seem very inclined to answer, but he eventually said just "happiness" before passing out.
How was his happiness gone?
CHAPTER 9
The following week passed in a blur, and the Crawfields’ party was nearing. Elis enjoyed almost daily visits from Francis, although she was still worried about Royce. He hadn't called on her, and he hadn't answered her letter. The one time when she had gone to his house to talk to him, he had not been home. It was a bit unnerving to not know what was happening to him. Was this his way of coping with whatever he had seen in that war? She was sure something was wrong with him, and if it was indeed that, she wanted to stand by him and help him. She didn't think it right to let him be alone at this moment. Yet all of her attempts had been thwarted so far.
She sighed as she penned another letter.
Dearest Royce,
Somehow this was all familiar. She had been in this same situation months ago when she had been fraught with worry over his physical safety. Now it was his mental safety that she was concerned about. She had heard of soldiers that survived the war but were never the same. Was this happening to Royce? She bit her lip as she ended her letter as she always did.
"Your faithful friend,
Elis"
"Royce, dear," his mother called.
"Your friend Elis wrote again. Seriously I do not understand why you keep on ignoring her."
Royce was standing next to the piano in the drawing-room, staring into an empty space.
"She's getting married, mama," he said thoughtlessly.
"Is she?" His mother asked skeptically.
"Yes. To Francis"
"So what?"
She asked, and he had to raise his gaze to meet hers.
"What do you mean by so what?"
"Dear, I have always known that you had a thing for her. It was out there for a blind man to see. But you have to remember that she was first and foremost, your friend. How is she to blame that she can't return your feelings? You are practically punishing her for your unrequited feelings right now. Is that fair?"
Royce just stared at her as if the truth had finally revealed to him.
His mother was right, in her own way. Yes, he did love her, and she did not return his feelings, but she had always been his friend, and she will always be. Even when she would be gray-haired and wrinkled, he would still love her, but she would still be his friend. He suddenly realized that even though they would not have an intimate relationship, he could not possibly throw her out of his life.
He got up and hurried to leave but not before giving his mother a smile.
"Thank you, mother." He said, and she inclined her head.
"I am here to see Lady Elis," Royce announced the footman, who received him inside.
"You will have to wait, my Lord. She is momentarily out with Lord Calloway. "
"Yes, of course," the footman showed him into the drawing-room, where he was to wait for Elis.
He didn't have to wait for long as he heard a few giggles in the parlor and an on enough Elis appeared on Francis' arm, fresh and smiling. She looked delighted, and he remembered his mother's words. She had said that Elis was his friend, first and foremost, and it was true. As her friend, he wished her happiness more than everything. And as the man who loved her above all else, he was bent on making sure she was happy.
"Elis, Francis," he smiled at them in greeting.
"Royce!" Elis's face lit up, and she rushed towards him.
"I am so glad you are so much better. I was worried," she hugged him, and he tried to be as unaffected as possible.
"Yes, I am better," he just said.
Francis regarded him suspiciously, or so he had the impression. Nevertheless, soon they were all talking and enjoying themselves as they had when they had been younger.
"It's terrific you are home, Royce," Frances told him when Elis had gone to see for tea and snack.
"Yes, it is."
"I am planning to marry her."
"Are you?" Royce replied.
"Yes," Francis nodded, and they descended into an awkward silence.
"Do you love her?" Royce suddenly asked, and Francis seemed at a loss for words.
"I..." he started, but he was interrupted by a joyous Elis who came back into the room.
"Oh Royce, are you sure you are up for the ball?" She asked him worriedly.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"
"Well...you know...all those people."
"I already met most of them at the soiree last week."
"Oh, you were there?" She asked and suddenly blushed.
"Yes, but
