âWe both know when some things are not worth it at all.â How long had it been since they took their place as mere pawns on a chessboard, playing the part that was expected of them, all the while water seemed to fill their very lungs, making each breath feel forced - nothing seemed to feel at ease, or natural anymore. How often they smiled in the face of their people, attempting to build a court that was a place for their courtiers to flourish, all whilst the pair of them attempted to be everything they were not? He wondered why none had approached him, not even the woman he called wife, to speak on the matter of this being avoided should he simply ensure the wedding date happened.
No, it were merely lies that piled up more on his head - as though he did not feel as though he were already dealing with the weight of the world, a truth that was teetering on being revealed, and his own family combusting the day he chose to do what needed to be done and unseat the King of Thorns. Lest heads roll, when the throne is taken again. More shit for him to clean up, more ties for him to ensure did not have backlash. It was enough to cause him to want to burst, and yet, he tried to keep his voice at a level that did not rise.Â
And there it was. Can we not have a conversation?
âNo, Florence.â He spoke, not bothering to return to her side, his voice suddenly rising. He had tried, and he was done. His selfishness had always been an inherent part of his very natureâŚÂ Gods was it not the very reason he was not home to ensure he knew what had happened the day he found two shrouds that he once called Father and Mother? There had always been a sense of self-preservation about him, but it had never been about wanting power; it was about ensuring he would remain who he wished himself to be, regardless of the crushing weight the ideas of Hector and Alaric Tyrell had upon him. âYou cannot lie to my face for weeks, then ask me for a conversation.â
âAt this point, it feels like you give me more shit to deal with, rather than be someone I can rely on - forget a wife, but a friend. A confidant. A partner.âÂ
In some regards, the second son of House Tyrell had found himself fitting too comfortably into the role that he had chased his entire life; had he not spent more time with his people over his own family, in order to avoid the lurches of power? Yet here he was, the crown upon his head in all but name, with the clear message: just know if you hide, it doesnât go away. There was more bubbling within his mind, frothing and boiling dangerously to those who would dare touch, that Florence herself would not know. How could she?Â
And yet, he could not help but feel like there was an ocean between them, and he was done trying to build a bridge. âDoing this again and again, trying to explain to one another what we will never be able to understand - itâs too much.â How he wished to tell her he felt as though he were drowning, how every little movement and action was only building more panic and stress. How he wished he could just fuck off into the horizon, and not speak to anyone for some days.Â
But he couldnât. He never can.
it took everything she could find within her to bite her tongue, to force back all of the spiteful words she wished to scream at his direction. controlling her own impulses, especially while under the full control and guise of anger, was something florence had struggled with for most of her life. this impulsivity was also the explanation for the mayhem and trouble that seemed to chase her while living on the streets of oldtown, back when she was known to most as just florence flowers. âwe?â she exasperated, âsay it how it is, cedric. that you deem it unworthy because it does not suit you.â she stepped towards where he stood, her hazel orbs fixated on him, staring at him with nothing but total irritation. âmy brother thought it was worth it. and while he vexes me even on the bestest of days, it was clear that this decision was worth it to him and he would never do something that would mean putting the reach at risk. you do not get to sit here on your high horse and deem what is worthy and unworthy for someone else.âÂ
she could feel herself become flushed, her hands even beginning to slightly shake; feeling as if she would combust from where she stood. âperhaps if you could be reasonable, i wouldnât have had to lie at all.â she felt as though she needed to keep things from him for the pair did not do well at handling conflict. while he would storm off and stonewall her after an argument, she would remain locked away in her own chambers until it was late enough in the evening for her to slip out and keep herself preoccupied at the nearest village. this would go on for days before making up. he would be the first to give in, to apologise and try to make amends and come to some sort of resolution, but her own stubbornness and pride made it so the roles rarely reversed. they were raised in two completely worlds; two worlds that would always mean their relationship would need work; that compromises would be needed given their constant differing of opinions.
âat this point, it feels like you give me more shit to deal with, rather than be someone i can rely on - forget a wife, but a friend. a confidant. a partner.âÂ
she tried her best to shield the pang of emotions that stabbed through her chest all at once; not expecting such words from him, but also shocked by how much his words surprisingly seemed to stun. his words seemed as if it ripped open all of her insecurities, one by one, and then brought to the surface and shoved into her face. she had been trying. trying to play the role of a partner she knew he deserved. but she only continued to fall short. âi didnât want any of this, but iâm trying. thatâs more that can be said for you. it is clear that you just want me to behave like one of your puppets.â
she turned so her back now faced him, not wanting him to see the tears that begin to slip down her cheeks. âjust leave.â she stated.
