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Terryn fell back into a fitful rest for a few minutes, though she couldn't say how many. When she finally determined that she could stall no longer, she rolled out of bed and threw on a robe over her nightclothes. She was not quite awake enough to think of dressing and she hadn't the patience to wait for whatever handmaids the duchess might have. She slid her shoes into a pair of soft cloth slippers and headed out towards the kitchens, following her grumbling stomach and the scent of eggs frying.

It was there she found a dining Marcus, and she crept up behind him before sliding her arms around his waist, playing with him for a moment before kissing his neck and coming around to his side to steal some of his bread. "I could no longer deny the appeal of stealing the food out of my dear husband's mouth."

"Oh yes, of course." Terryn wrapped her arms around Marcus's neck, pulling him in for a long kiss. "You taste of tea." She glanced to the table and saw the leaves floating in his china cup. She smiled, nuzzling against Marcus with a yawn. "I still tire...perhaps I should go back to sleep." She shut her eyes, cooing quietly. "Unless, of course, I could find some incentive to stay awake." She was trying very hard at this moment to distract herself from her problems. Perhaps if she could keep herself from getting depressed and saddened over concentrating on her father, she would be able to stay in her own mind, which was something she desperately needed at the moment. "Have you any ideas? Perhaps I should just eat your food for energy."

Terryn didn't mind the distraction, and at least it helped her get back to sleep afterwards. When she awoke again, the sun was high and she felt much more refreshed than she had in the morning. Still hungry, yes, but she wasn't about to get up quite yet. She could wait for food; after all, she was content in her little cloud of euphoria. She knew that haze would eventually dissipate and she would have to speak to her father again, but for now she was content to lay in Marcus's arms and forget about the world.

Turning on her back, she pulled the sheets up to cover herself, though mainly out of instinct. It wasn't as if she had anything to hide from the only other person in the room. She stared at the ceiling, the stretching sun rays from the window lighting and heating the room. It made her feel safe and calm, like the days as a child when she would rest in the rose garden next to her mother and nap in the midday sun.

Terryn grinned, a contented little moan escaping her lips. "I agree wholeheartedly. Soon could mean this evening or the morrow or...well...anytime at all really." She felt a bit cattish at the moment, her depression sinking to the back of her mind as a sort of defensive reflex. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, her tousled hair falling down around her face and shoulders in loose waves. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, holding the sheets up in front of her. "In the meantime, we can always just go back to sleep or...not sleep..." She wasn't a fool; she understood that if she could totally lose herself in the physical, her emotions wouldn't have room to come in. And such is she how she occupied the better part of the afternoon, pulling Marcus back in whenever she started thinking again.

In a more lonely scene, the earl had also spent the afternoon in bed, though with decidedly less vigor. He was in a sense of grief that he couldn't quite understand. Yes, he had loved Serina, but not as much as the others he had lost. He finally realized that it was the thought of losing her as well as his daughter, his stability and his reason for living ever since losing the rest of his family. True, she wasn't dead, but it she was gone in a sense, now part of Marcus's life. She would move in with him, go start a family (though it might take a while considering how long it took to conceive her and her brothers), and visit her decrepit old father for tea only when she had nothing better to do. He wanted his little girl back.

"Oh, don't invoke them. You know how they vex me." Terryn was finally satiated, for the moment at least. She was curled up in an ironically diminutive position, her head resting on his chest, and a happy little smile on her face that might be considered demure to anyone who hadn't known what had been happening all day. She traced a line down the center of his chest with her finger, following it with her lips. She settled sleepily at the bottom of his ribcage, her mind sufficiently clouded with thoughts of her husband and other such niceties.

"Go away, Merrit." The duchess's manservant had been sent up thrice today, attempting to coax Lord Arvin out of his bedchambers. He had already sent the man away, though it had prompted him to at least dress himself, though he had retired to an armchair in front of his empty fireplace, at which he was still staring. "I told you I shan't come down."

Terryn smirked at him cheekily, raising her head to meet his gaze. "I thought you knew this. We had already established my position as a veritable wench, do you forget?" She kissed him teasingly on the lips before sitting, stretching her arms above her head and yawning lightly to wake up. She was hungry again, and felt that she was safely distracted in her more superficial thoughts-both her recent memories and her guilty fantasies of the future-to go face the public, at least the public of the kitchens. "Come now, I hunger. You would not want to leave your lady wife starving, now would you? I daresay it would make your afternoons considerably more dull."

Arvin was slightly surprised when the door swung open, angry at himself for not having locked it. He couldn't say he was alarmed at her entrance, though, nor at her temperament. "Emily...leave me. I shall get you more water if that is your concern, but I have no stomach to face the day." He turned away from the fireplace, staring out the window. "Have you seen my daughter today?"

"Yes sir." Terryn had dressed herself simply, wearing only a light green shift and black cincher that wasn't terribly tight. She wasn't positive why but she didn't want to crush her abdomen. She convinced herself that it was because she hadn't eaten yet and it would hurt too much if she tightened it too much. She knew that it wasn't the reason, so she thought about hounds for a moment before turning towards her husband and adjusting her front. She smiled at him, taking his arm as they exited their chambers.

"She's what?" Arvin had dismissed everything else she told him, and instead hopped to his feet with the agility a man of his age should not have. "She wouldn't." Arvin looked rather weathered but had a new sort of fire in his eyes. He didn't want to lose her, not after everyone else. He gathered his slippers and doublet, trying hastily to button it up but fumbling.

Lord Arvin turned his head to gaze out the window at the sun. "More like, good afternoon, you mean?" He looked pointedly at Marcus's arm, which was entwined with his little girl's. The sight brought a frown to his face until he saw Terryn instinctively dropped her arm to her side.

"Father, you do not look well. We were getting..." She glanced out the window, trying to judge the time. "Supper. Early supper. Please, join us." All of the happy little fancies flitted out of her mind, leaving her feeling worse than she had in the first place.

The earl shook his head. "No, you and your husband go off. You wouldn't want your old father dragging you down." He sighed, looking hunched, and turned to leave.