While it was understandable to fret after your newborn, he'd mistakenly began to fall back into his habit of not being quite social with his wife except the few moments before they slept in which they were in the same room and had no jobs to attend to. With such, the ill Juliette had felt more and more distanced from those she loved- even if she was the one that put up a wall when her husband was about, avoiding much conversation.
She couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with her, Sigurna had seen it- she knew that. The Matriarch had appeared concerned when she spotted Juliette wandering about the courtyard; why had been lost on her. The older Wodenstaff had treated Juliette like an injured animal, leading her carefully away and telling her that Lautaro should bring their daughter up for a visit that day. Not moments after, Juliette had remembered herself breaking down into tears in front of her husband's cousin- though there was a Supreme lack of reason as to why she was so upset.
Another few moments went by and soon enough the ex-Vauclain found herself once more in her chambers, staring at the bed that her daughter had been born upon and drawing away from it to sit on a chair rather than the bed. Hours ticked by and her loneliness grew and eventually she crawled into bed and circled herself with blankets that soon made a structure similar to the bird nests that she admired with Darcinne as a child. After she was cloaked in warmth, Juliette sent a page off to fetch her dearest best friend- if her husband wasn't going to keep her company then she'd have Elizabeth stick by her side for if she were alone any longer she felt she'd be sick.
Of course though, Elizabeth was busy. Eventually the page returned empty-handed and by himself, reporting that Lady Black was busy with duties at the moment and could come another time. Juliette only answered with a blank stare before sinking backwards and lying awkwardly under the blankets as the messenger departed. The woman laid in silence and hours felt like minutes as she drifted in and out of daze. Eventually the sun had sank somewhere between the rejected invitation to Elizabeth and her husband arriving home. He'd fixed the blankets around her and crawled into bed soon after, though his wife ignored him, staring distantly across the room. She ignored his kiss on the cheek and the gentle 'Juliette?' that he had whispered in an attempt of starting a conversation.
Quietly the man had frowned before Juliette had turned her back on him, the silence of night and sorrow cloaking the two as a tear escaped the Ithanian even as the one person she needed most laid besides her, wishing only to help.
