"julia you'll return to grannvale once the land is liberated, won't you?" he says it as something of an offer, a hopeful assumption. he clutches the hilt of his blade. as far as seliph is aware, she has no place else to go. julia has suffered more than any of them and there is an arrogance in him that thinks he may be able to spare her of future hardships if she were to remain nearby. "have you given thought to what comes after?"
THE WORDS ARE SOFT.
❝ i wish to remain at your side. ❞
she will never be able to spat harsh words to him, it’s a certainty longer than her overwhelming pain. firmly, her hands take his, puts them away from the weapon. a sense of irony passes through, it foretells how he now chooses to follow the charade the people had bestowed on him.
her heart mourns for the death of the boy who will never be allowed to be human. it bleeds for the idea of what-if. in the deepest corner of her mind, she allows this complex feeling to wander.
❝ but that’s impossible, lord seliph. ❞
julia wonders when she turned into a martyr. the inner resentment at her circumstances exists, flows through her whole body. still, her hands grasp seliph’s lovingly, in an attempt of telling through gesture.
❝ i can’t be what you want me to be. ❞