♠ ─ the pain that bloomed like a flower in her heart grew stronger, reminiscent of the days when she had pinned for him and had poured out her longing on pages of letters. mariani had stopped writing those letters when all hope for her future had been throw aside. when she became something that she would forever be ashamed of. the reminder of how different she was now, compared to the bright eyed girl of fourteen that he must remember was agonizing.
she could not bare to see the understanding in his eyes, the judgement when he
realized what she had become. the virgin whore, a lord had whispered. collar laced up
high against a slim neck, corset tight to squeeze herself into a most beautiful dress.
bible clenched between her hands; a complete paradox made flesh.
“il y a quelques jours seulement. for my sister, maddalena. we were all very concerned.” a small smile was extended, shy, unsure. "vous êtes ici pour votre roi?” he was a duke, after all. a suitable match for her, once upon a dream. a tie to france for her family. she was never supposed to give him her heart, only her body.
it was strange, how forgotten feelings sudden clawed at her throat, making it
impossible to breathe. mariani had forced herself to put jacques away under lock and
key, never to think of him again. he only caused her to grieve, for what might have
been. “you were not injured in the attacks, were you?” pale fingers reach to grasp his
hand before retracting. held frozen, between their bodies.
"oui. je suis ici depuis quelques mois. je regrette que votre arrivée soit dans des circonstances si malheureuses.” he answers, forcing himself to swallow around the lump in his throat in order to return her smile with a polite, albeit a little uneasy, one of his own. truth be told, he had never expected to see mariani again ; not after she stopped writing him so abruptly and their betrothal was called off soon after. it had absolutely devastated him, not knowing the reason why. for she had been so incredibly dear to him, once. in fact, he would even go as far as to say that he had loved her, in a pure and innocent kind of way.
but those days are so far gone that they don’t even seem real anymore. the person standing in front of him now is a little more than a ghost of the past, a little more than a reminder of the carefree person he once used to be. the roguish, towheaded boy she used to know is dead, dead, dead, buried underneath the same battlefield on which he had fought for so long. in his place stands a miserable man, who still flinches at loud noises and has nightmares about the people he has killed. he really is far too old and tired for someone of his age. “i was not injured beyond a few superficial wounds. my daughter was injured badly, but she has recovered well. other people were ─...not quite as fortunate.”
