𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

第七 | SEVEN

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PAST

Claude never knew what to make of the strong feelings he felt for you.

He classified it as annoyance, at first—the way his heart seemed to swell strangely when he saw you, the way his heart seemed to beat irritably faster when you were around; the way his thoughts would soon start to cloud about, cutting off any thought of what should have been more important: the rebellion.

He thought of himself as closed off from others. You were merely a loyal aide, a childhood friend—nothing more than that. Feelings would get in the way, and Claude Valeria did not have feelings for you. Love for a trifle thing he did not want to get involved with.

And you knew that.

"Your Grace," you spoke. "I have listed down all of the candidates that are of marriageable age, and are good prospects for the rebellion. Would you want me to reach out to them?"

Claude furrowed his eyebrows.

"Marriage?"

"Yes," you said patiently. "Of course, if you are uncomfortable with it, we can put the plans to a halt. But you stated before you were alright with having a loveless marriage."

Somehow Claude was deeply disturbed by this.

"When did I say that?"

"A few weeks ago."

"I don't recall," Claude said shortly, and you couldn't help but laugh at his expression. "I will think about it."

"In your exact words, you said, and I quote: I don't care who I marry. I won't fall in love with anyone, and I would prefer a spouse who doesn't love me back. There's always the option of divorce, of course," you suggested brightly, sheafing through documents. "Until after the rebellion is over."

Claude grew even more exasperated. For some reason your words vexed him and pierced his heart in a manner he couldn't fathom. "You don't seem the least bothered about me getting married."

I do, you thought, feeling your smile slip off for the briefest moment. I care more than anyone else. I'm the one who loves you.

"Everything will be for the rebellion, right?" You answered lightly, yet you turned your back from him. "I work towards whatever is best suited for you. For us. For the sake of the rebellion."

"...No," Claude said quietly. "I will not marry."

"I will respect your wishes. Yet I'm curious to know: is there any reasoning behind your actions?"

Truth to be told, Claude didn't know himself.

"It's none of your business," was all he said, before he started to focus on the documents splayed in front of him. "Just reject whatever marriage proposals that have come."

"...Alright then, Your Grace." You gave a long sigh, before you walked away.

Claude didn't know it then, but in that moment, in a heart cold as ice, a crack was created, and a flower bloomed.

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PRESENT

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Half your vision was gone.

It was an odd thing to note. An oddly specific thing you had gotten especially after you were promised death. Especially after when you had been told you would die. Panic appeared in spurts, in a turbulent, maddening rush, when you found you had blotches of blackness on your vision—no, not blotches. You couldn't see through your right eye. It was complete blindness, which meant you could hardly move about without knocking things over. Yes, you still had one eye, but...