Kyoto, December 27, 2010
The air was cold, it was just winter afterall. It was the kind that made every exhale visible to the naked eye. A layer of thin frost cling to roof tiles and wooden eaves, while smoke from distant houses drifted upwards into the night sky, contrasting the snow that fell throughout the past few weeks. Kyoto especially at this time of year has a sort of stillness to it, as if it was slumbering itself. The moon shone brightly across the sky, as paper lanterns still hung above wooden storefronts, helping to light up the narrow stone-paved lanes of Gion.
A lone man walked alone across these streets he called home. He was small in stature, hunched slightly as the years passed by. His coat was thick, patched at the elbows and his breath stood out amongst the falling snow. His neck is covered by a bright blue scarf, each step he took was a trip down memory lane. He can't help but reminisce about all the new years he has spent on this street alone. That one time in 2007 where he sat along with his friends in a tea house. Or another time in 2000 where he sat alone by the riverside watching the fireworks. Or that one time in 1997 where it was his last new year with her.
He quickly shook that thought away. He just continued to walk the empty street before him. "Weird" he thought to himself. He hasn't seen a single soul in the past half hour. Sure it was late at night but to him It felt like the entire place was suspended in time, stuck frozen as if he had travelled back in time. A plane of existence where only he exists.
Temple bells echoed faintly in the distance. Finally breaking him out of his trance. The old man paused at a vending machine glowing faintly in the cold. He reached into the pocket of his coat, pulling out a few coins he always kept for situations like these. He dropped them into the slots. The machine clunked and a can of warm coffee tumbled down with a soft thud.
He held the can in his hands. Soaking in the heat as his eyes wondered again. The sight of Gion's Yasaka pagoda, complimenting the dark sky, stood as a testament of Japan's history. He still remembered his first memory of visiting Gion, while his memory is not as vivid as he hoped so, or maybe just because he can only see it through rose tinted glasses, even as old as he is now he can't help but still hold the child like admiration for this once sacred sight.
He walked towards a bench that he always frequented. It had one of the most beautiful sights of the pagoda, further complimented with the warm lighting of lamps and lanterns while snow danced around the sky. He let out a small grunt as he sat, a testament to his age. He stretched out his legs and leaned on the bench while finally opening the can of coffee that only had a shred of warmth left in it.
He lifted the can with worn hands towards his lips. Letting the warmth seep into his body, savoring the coffee's flavor. It's not the best coffee he'd ever had, but at this moment it might as well have been. The beautiful sight across him, the smell of snow with warm coffee, and the feeling of warmth on a cold wintery night. Each exhale short but visible, signaling that this is real.
The snow continued to fall, as did the winds continue to howl. With each passing moment, the moon takes another step forwards. As he continued to enjoy himself, a very faint sound of snow being crushed underneath feet could be heard from the distance. He turned to his left where he was an unexpected sight. A beauty with white long flowing hair, sky kissed bright blue eyes and proportions of a supermodel dressed in clothes non appropriate for both winter nor children. However a distinct pair of long and pointy ears caught his eyes more. A sort of… light radiated from her. Like she herself is emitting a goldenly glow. He could not believe his own eyes, and yet she continued to stare, both with curiosity and confusion.
Even with his age, he knew what she resembled like. A race that predominantly appears in fantasy settings, an Elv. A fictional race predominantly portrayed as a recluse scholars that excel in archery and magic. Not to mention their high beauty standards which now he realised held some truth. A feeling lingered in his mind, It felt like he had seen her before…
Then a story stirred into his mind. An old fairy tale story about a runaway princess and a beast.
—————————————————————————————
Long ago, there lived a princess. She was the youngest of four and the least talented amongst them. She struggled with politics, lacked the imaginative mind for magic, and never seemed to match up with her older sisters. Yet as years passed, the dormant flower bud finally bloomed, a flower so radiant that she was declared the fairest in the land. Her sisters, once mocked her for her lack of god given skills, all began to writhe in anger over her popularity that out shines their own. No matter what she did, she became the center of attention, as if attention clung itself to her like a curse. Nobles flocked from all over the kingdom just to try and catch a glimpse of her. Letters from all over the land addressed to her. Books in libraries that romanticized her beauty. Her sister's jealousy deepened, yet there was nothing they could do to stop it.
Nonetheless, the princess believed that this beauty was a curse. Nothing she accomplished would be attributed to her own efforts. She practiced tirelessly, day after day, in hopes to reach the same skill as her sisters. Yet even when her hard work showed results, the praise never reached her. People only saw her for her face, and it seemed that no matter what she achieved, she would always be recognized for her beauty alone
One fateful day, the royal palace hosted a grand gala in honor to celebrate the princess's coming of age. Nobles gathered from all around the kingdom, and even ambassadors came from distant lands to participate in the festivities. The harmony created by a lone piano filled the air, while the chatter of subtle politics continued on along with the melody. The room basked in the light from the chandelier as festivities continued. Yet in the midst of countless admirers and love stricken nobles vying for her attention, a particular noble caught her eyes. He wasn't the most handsome, famous, nor was he fully human. His face was one of a wolf yet it seemed the most human to her. Sky kissed blue surrounded his sharp oval pupils, matching his intimidating appearance. Yet his demeanour and aura he exudes is oddly calm. He wore a military outfit unlike the other nobles who wore classical suits fitting for a formal event.
Their eyes met for a brief exchange, and it was different. It was only the princess staring back at him while he continued on talking with other political figures. She turned away, unable to understand what was different about him compared to the rest. Was it his physical appearance? Or was it… Then she realised. What sets him apart was his quiet indifference to her beauty, a quality none has shown before. A quality she had been unconsciously seeking in someone every single day ever since she was cursed with beauty. She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
That night, unable to push away the thought of him from her mind, the princess slipped away from the celebration. Sneaking through countless nobles, Guided only by the words of guards and servants.
In the palace garden, where flowers grew, basked in the nightly dew and crickets whispered, she found him standing alone under a singular tree. Their eyes met, as for the first time she felt not like a painting nor a jewel, but as a person. As they continued to look at each other, she froze. The world seemed too narrow for her, the faint music from the gala and the crickets surrounding her began to fade, replaced by the beating of her heart. It was like a drum that had gone into a fast rhythm. Her face lit up brighter, and Lucian noticed.
"Your highness, what may be of service to you this evening?" Lucain inclined his head politely, his tone calm and filled with respect. His eyes blossomed under the moonlight. His ears stood proud up right as he placed his arms on his chest and did a gentleman's bow.
"It is n-nothing of the sort. I only wished to speak with you…" her voice wavered near the end. Her hands clenched into fists behind her as if she was holding onto something to keep her steady.
Lucain was surprised but he would not let it show on his face. He was indeed curious yet he remained formal. "There are many who are more worthy of your time. Why seek out a mere baron from the beastman kingdom?"
"Because… Because you seemed… different." Her face turned red as she spoke, embarrassed by words coming out of her own mouth. "A-and not in a bad way."
Lucian stared at her slightly dumbfounded, "then your highness, would you mind joining me on taking a stroll?" Lucian suggested. "I promised I won't bite."
the princess' mouth curled into a slight grin. "I will take you up on that offer sir?"
"Pardon me, My name is Lucian Veynhart, and it is an honor for me to take the one and only princess Elira on a stroll." He extended his gloved paws and offered it to her.
They walked the royal palace's sizable garden as they talked more about themselves. The garden was bathed in moonlight glow, many flowers blossomed within the garden itself, flowers from all over the land with many different species and unique fauna complimented each other. Fireflies lit up the dim garden as other smaller insects and nocturnal birds became nature's symphony, contrasting with the now barely audible music from the gala. Each flower telling a story of its own, bright and vibrant colors ranging from red to blue stood unbothered by the lack of lighting. Even for someone like Lucian, he knew that the flowers that grew here seemed happy.
"This garden is magnificent, it must be hard for the palace's staff to take such good care of it." Lucian spoke as his gloved hands touched the crimson red petals of a rose.
"These flowers are a testament to our goal, to become a kingdom of beauty and thrive." Princess Elira replied, she then knelt down next to Lucian. "May I ask why you wear gloves?"
"these? I take it you haven't seen a pure blood beastman like me princess. I use gloves when visiting human kingdoms to be more respectful. It hides my claws which some fear as a weapon." As Lucain spoke, his face showed a slight grimace that he failed to keep inside.
"Really? May I see your hand?" She asked. Reaching out her own hand.
"Of course princess." Lucain respectfully answered, lending her his outstretched hand. His face tensed ever so slightly as he tried to be as courtly as he could.
Elisa took his hand gently and slowly unbuttoned his grey gloves. His eyes stayed glued to her face, waiting how she would react. Slowly but surely, white greyish fur was being unravelled, what was once hidden now revealed. Elisa placed her other hand atop his.
"So this is what a beastman's fur feels like" she grins at him. His eyes were lifted, but quickly he too smiled.
"It's been awhile since a human touched my fur." He replied. Elisa could see his tail swaying slowly from side to side.
"Oh really? I would expect that more people would be interested in it." Elisa replied with a slight shock. She moved her hands downwards towards the tips of his fingers where claws were present. She pinched his claws softly, it was sharp yet she showed no fear
"careful princess…" Lucian warned, although he couldn't help but be relieved that he didn't scare her off. It's been a long time since Lucian had enjoyed the company of a human before.
"You should wear gloves less often, I think that you look better without them." The princess replied as she flipped his paw over and touched his paw beans. Which surprised Lucian. They were rough and beat up, contrasting the soft and well groomed fur he has.
"that tickles the princess." He said while holding back a laugh. His tail wagged even more. "You know, us beastmans only allow people we find worthy to touch them."
"Huh? Oh my, my apologies" she quickly pulled back her hand. Her face was embarrassed and also worried that she had offended Lucian. Her eyes met Lucian and just as quickly as they met, she looked away. His face was a warm smile, like one that would typically be used when dealing with a child.
"You're treating me like a child aren't you?" She said while turning her face and crossing her arms.
"Forgive my discourtesy princess, I just couldn't help it" he said with a warm tone once again. She wanted to laugh but before she could even move, Lucian grabbed her hand and knelt down. Placing her hand on his forehead and said "princess, I have never said you weren't worthy." His voice was filled with respect.
the princess was dumbfounded at what just transpired. All she could do was stare back at Lucian with her mouth agape. Her mind raced to come up with something to say but she managed to blurt out was "I-i knew that!"
she in fact didn't know.
Her eyes seemed distant for the rest of the night, as if her mind was somewhere else. She was unable to shake off the feelings that just had been newly discovered. That moment lingered with her even after the gala ended. That night, she couldn't sleep, not because it was cold in her heart but instead because it felt warm. Warm enough that she wanted to stay up to enjoy it.
She stood up from her bed and peaked out the window, retracing their steps around the palace garden with her gaze. It was late, the fireflies that were there were already lull to sleep by the night. The symphony of the night lowered its melody as well, all the while the princess sat down by the window. She pulled out a piece of paper along with a quill and ink. across the folded paper. She wrote…
"to Lucian Veynhart"
One letter turned into two, then three, and soon the princess had something that motivated her to wake up each morning. Every day, she would wake with her heart beating fast, hoping to find a neatly placed envelope sealed with his crest atop her desk. In those pieces of paper were words that would brighten her day without fail. It was jarring for her, who thought that all the attention given her was a curse, to seek the attention of another. To her, every line was a treasure, a validation that wasn't because of what she had, but because who she is. A young girl who hasn't felt real and genuine feelings.
It didn't take long for whispers to spread across the palace's halls. Servants noticed her acting differently. She woke up every morning enthusiastically, her smiles became wider, she began to hide things. Letters weren't anything new but the way she looked at those pieces of parchment was different. Soon rumors spread, about the princess whose beauty eluded everyone who seeked, finally getting ensnared by someone. And inevitably those whispers would reach the king himself.
At first, the king was pleased by those rumours. For years he had worried for his youngest, whether she would find someone that would truly stir her heart. When he heard these rumors, he summoned her to his chamber. His voice unguarded with hope.
"Tell me, my daughter, who is it that you've been sending letters to?" He said gently, his eyes still filled with light and his face with hope.
Her hands trembled as she held to the hem of her gown, her cheeks red from embarrassment of needing to say it out loud. "I met him during my birthday gala… we talked and took a stroll across the garden. His name is… Lucian veynhart…" her fingers twiddled with her gown. she eyes were too fixated with the ground to notice the light and hope escaping from the kings eyes
"He is an up and coming baron from the beastman kingdom." She continued. As she did she finally looked up to face her father, finally noticing his dull expression compared to how he was at first.
The next following moment was filled with silence, he gave no answers, no blessings, only a stillness that told her more than words ever could.
The next morning, there was nothing on her desk. No neatly folded envelope, no seal, only the bare wooden veneer staring back at her. At first she brushed it off, telling herself "perhaps something went wrong with the messengers". But one day became three, then seven, then more, till she could not bear the silence anymore.
With every passing day, her hopes began to waver farther. She lingered by the windows, staring back at the same spot where they first met at the garden. Her eyes can't help but be fixated at it. There was something missing within herself, gone but not forgotten. The absence did leave her hollow but she would not let it consume her.
She began to listen in on hushed conversations in the halls, whispers carried by the staff that were the work force of the palace, Nobles who visit often carrying political news with them, and doing her own research by joining tea parties hosted by numerous political figures.
At last, the truth struck her like a sword to the chest. Both her kingdom and the beastmans…
Were preparing for war
That night, the princess made a choice. She could no longer sit in her own gilded halls, waiting for a war that would tear apart bonds that she cherished. Unable to sulk any longer, she took action. Cloaked under the midnight glow, she slipped away from her chamber through the window. Under the carpet of stars above her footsteps are as light as possible, using illusion magic to help her escape. With every guard she passed, her heart beat like thunder. But she pressed on, her resolve burning brighter than her fear.
beyond the castle gates was a place she had only seen through the safety of a carriage and lived through stories of adventurers and soldiers. She prepared for the worst, running through the forest as quickly and quietly as possible.
The night air was moist and cool, carrying the scent of pine and dew. The forest was quiet compared to the lively insects of the palace's gardens. Cold air blew her rich, long golden blond hair as well as acting like daggers on her bare skin. She however, did not look back. To remain in those walls is to lose the one treasure she found. The person whose attention was validating instead of diminishing. To flee was to cast aside a life of wealth and comfort. The person who would be marked down proudly in history. The choice seemed hard, but to her, there was one obvious answer. So she ran, not to avoid responsibility but to chase it, to claim another as her own. To be with the one she knew would have a place for her next to him.
the journey itself, tested her at every step. She crossed forests where the night sang with howls of wolves, rivers whose waters lurked with diseases, and wandered roads where bandits were known to lay in ambush. These weren't the only struggles that she had to face, hunger gnawed at her, the dark stared back at her, fear shadowed her doubts.
Others would think of giving up, running back to a life of silk and gold, yet she didn't. Every time her resolve faltered, she would press her hand on her chest and whisper his name. Lucian…
It was love that drove her forward despite all the things she had to face. She was sure and steadfast. She had already made up her mind to be with him, and she won't stop till she is able to be in his arms.
—————————————————————————————
a figure sat on a chair alone, his table laid with a map with immaculate detail. Chess pieces stood across it, rooks represented their kingdoms, knights for cavalry, and pawns for their footmen. He moved the pieces,then again… then once more, trying to figure out the most likely path for their armies to take. Pathways and scenarios that could happen rang out in his mind, ones where they won, some that they lost. He looked like a mad man, playing this one man game of chess.
his paw hovered above their rook. For a moment he stared, His once sharp expression softened with guilt, with reluctance, he captured it with his knight. That move hung heavy in the air as silence filled the room after the distinct thud. He stood
up from his chair, as he walked towards the window behind him.
Smoke drifted upwards as snow fell, warm yellow hues radiated from streetlights and houses alike sliced through the snowfall. Children ran around as they played in the snow, while workers continued their daily routine of selling goods and providing services. Winter is upon them and while this year their harvest was bountiful, it isn't enough to sustain an army whilst feeding his people. He doubts the humans will strike during winter, as they too will struggle with supplies. There is time for them to prepare.
He turned back, his eyes not on the map but on a drawer beneath it. He took out a key from his coat and unlocked the drawer, inside was pieces of parchment, notably letters adorned with a crest of royalty. He took one into his hand as he opened it and reread the contents of it. Her voice rang out in his mind, over and over again.
It's been nearly a month since her letters stopped coming, and it was evident that it
bothered him. He can't say that he didn't expect this but, it still hurt him nonetheless. He leaned his head back as his body hit his chair, his eyes starting at the spruce wood lined ceiling. He closed his eyes as his mind asked
"why am i feeling like this"
He sat there for a long minute, his hands hanging lifeless from the chair. When was the last time he had felt like this? Broken and torn between things he cared about.
As he opened his eyes to his familiar wooden ceiling, he caught a glimpse of the map, chess pieces scattered around. His eyes lingered on a particular piece, a black rook that laid next to a white knight. out of all the choices and sacrifices he had ever made, this was the one that truly tested him. For once logic failed him, clouded and covered by a haze of emotions, and the strategist within him found no victory.
A sudden knock on the door woke him up from his terrible state. "Young master," he stuttered as if he stumbled into a sight he wasn't meant to see. "The king requested your presence urgently. Horses are already prepared for your departure." One of his attendants spoke.
"Get my coat ready, I'll be there shortly." Lucain replied, his voice composed though his chest still ached. He placed the letter back into his personal drawer and locked it. His attendant quickly shuffled away as footsteps echoed through the hallways
lucain stood in the stillness that followed. He reached for the blade resting beside the table and fastened it to his hip, the weight familiar but now suffocating. A duty to uphold, a source of pride, now heavier than ever.
His footsteps steady as he walked through hallways lined with fine artworks and statues, ceilings woven with intricate patterns of gold and marble. While he walked with purpose, his mind wandered with uncertainty, not of strategy or his duty but her.
her smile when they first met, their awkward interactions about his gloves, the faint scent of roses and daisies from their garden walk, and the letters they exchange. All of it only helped deepen the uncertainty in his heart.
As he reached the end of the hallway, he grabbed his coat from an attendant and swiftly wore it. From his pockets he took out a pair of gloves, fitting them onto his hands. An action he has done countless times before, yet he could not help but recall how she once teased him for always wearing them.
he pushed open the large wooden door of his manor as snow capitalised on the moment to rush in. As he walks through the door, maids rush to clean the floor before the snow piles up.
Outside, the sound of snow crunched over his boots echoed against the howl of the wind and snowfall. Guard and horses stood ready with supplies and weaponry like well oiled machinery. As he approached, guards saluted him as their eyes filled with loyalty, unyielding as the snow itself.
—————————————————————————————
At last, when her strength was nearly spent, the gates of Lucian's land rose before her across the hills. And there he was, standing in a dark grey coat, reminiscent of his gloves, his figure standing out against the falling snow. Only the sounds of snow getting crunched under footsteps could be heard, the rest of the world remained silent as if waiting for them to move. When their eyes met, the long silence that had befell them before shattered into millions of pieces.
"Lucain! Lucain!" Elisa cried, the name that she whispered a thousand times on the road were set free, turning into feral shouts coming from her heart. All pretense of her composure was long gone, her hard work paying off.
But before she could reach him, guards rushed from their horses, swords drawn forming a wall of blades between her and Lucian. They stood their ground, ready to cut down what they saw as a threat, halting Elisa in her tracks.
"lower your weapons!" Lucain voice thundered as he pushed past his guards, his authority radiating from his voice. Soldiers froze, shocked by a shout they've only heard on battlefields.
He rushed towards her. "princess… I…I should have been the one to rescue you…" his calm and playful demeanour that he displayed during their first meeting was nowhere to be seen. Stripped from his usual calm poise, it was replaced by a trembling sorrow that was too heavy for him to bear. He couldn't help but let tears
flow from his sharp eyes. A first for him in a long time.
Her eyes filled with tears that blurred the world till all she could see was grey and white. As their bodies met, her heart beat with warmth. At last the goal she had been working towards. She could not hold back her tears.
However, their embrace was fleeting, Lucain felt the warmth leaving Elisa as her grip weakened on his coat. Unable to respond back to his guilt ridden words
"Elisa!" His voice was desperate, but only the snow responded to him with howls. Swallowed quickly by the silence, he quickly took her into a carry, and rushed her inside his manor. There, in the glow of the fireplace, he laid her down gently, as if afraid of breaking her. He summoned his servants as his voice trembled despite trying to save face. The servants hurried, they've never heard his voice trembling like this before. Without a moment missed, they worked like ants, organized and with purpose.
The room was prepared swiftly, making sure everything is up to standards for nobility. It was distinctly different compared to the western influences of the human kingdoms. Ornaments of wolf and stag adorn the walls, lit up by a stunning magic driven chandelier, the room was empty, without furnishing yet it was still extravagant. The air itself was warm, not fed by fire but by a quiet hum. "another wonder of magic engineering" Lucain thanked.
The bed was large, it was as large as two kings size beds, another difference that separated humans and beastmans. Lucain wrapped her slender frame with his coat, before carrying her to the bed where he sat, waitng… and waiting for her to wake up. He kept gazing at her as if scared she would disappear if he took his eyes off him. His hand resting lightly atop hers, fiddling with her fingers to try and wake her up.
The servants could only watch in silence as the man they know as Lucain Veynhart, an up and coming baron, a wolf whose name spread like a wildfire across the battlefields, a wolf whose name invokes fear in many who opposes him, a wolf whose name is renowned for his sharp tongue and even sharper blade. Laid beside a single human woman. A figure admired with respect by the kingdom and infamy by its enemies, yet now that same man who's never shaken by seemingly anything is cowering at the potential loss of a human. To them it was unthinkable.
"please… please… don't let it end like this…" he whispered to himself. His voice cracked against the silence. Then a loud, almost a roar "You, get a doctor here as fast as possible!" He shouted at the closest maid.
The maid he addressed stood frozen, her eyes grew wide. The rest appeared to be visibly shocked as well. They did not understand why their master, feared warrior would pour such desperation into saving a singular human. Yet as the anguish in his voice registered in their ears, they understood. This wasn't a shout of anger, nor was it a logical action. But it was just a plea that came from the heart. And, that was enough for them.
they bowed and fled the room, leaving him the privacy he needed. His most trusted butler remained stationed at the door, prepared to answer a call that could happen anytime, while the rest of the manor stirred like ants. Word spread swiftly as the kitchens readied warm meals in case she awoke, maids scattered in search of a physician who could treat humans, and the guards tightened their watch at all the gates. All moved with purpose and urgency, bound not by duty alone, but by feelings of sympathy to their young master.
Hours passed before a lone physician who specialises in humans arrived at the door steps of the manor. He was quickly let inside where waited behind the doors to the manor's guest room.
knock knock knock…
"The Physician you have requested has arrived young master" the butler spoke through the door, his tone loud enough to be heard across the door yet still softened with respect
"Let him in," lucain replied. His voice was flat, stripped of warmth. As if with each passing second the cold seeped deeper into him.
The doctor entered, bowing briefly, but before he could speak, Lucian cut him off. His eyes still made sure that Elisa was in his sight."please… whatever it takes. I'll pay generously.
"We can discuss that later, lord lucian." The physician said firmly, wasting no time as he hurried over to her side. With practised hands he drew back the coat and blanked that covered her. As he did , a silence louder than shouts the battlefield rang through Lucian's world. He examined her, his fingers pressed lightly against her wrist, his gaze studying her breathing. His fingers had nicely trimmed claws, a choice that helped Lucian realise that he is indeed an expert in humans.
Finally, he exhaled a quiet sigh.
"It's not dire," he said at last. "The young lady has only collapsed from exhaustion. With rest and proper food, she will recover."
Lucian's body relaxed, as if the weight on his shoulder disappeared. His grip on the bed frame loosen, his eyes which have been so cold and sharp, were overcome with a sudden warmth.
"thank the gods…" he whispered.
The physician tucked her back in and continued, his tone professional. "The only concern is her temperature. Her body was exposed to the cold for too long. I will prepare an elixir to help with a cold."
With that, he gathered his satchel and prepared to exit the room. "See that she is kept warm till I return lord Lucain. He inclined his head politely as he slipped away from the room. Leaving Lucian alone with the princess once more.
Lucian sat there for a long while, unsure of what to do. The day has been a torrent of emotions for him, each pulling him in a different direction. All he could do was sit by her side, his hands on hers as his eyes guarded her. The wolf that armies feared felt… tamed, softened by something he would have never expected. He became like a dog protecting its owner, and he was oddly at peace with it.
He continued to bash himself with a thousand what ifs, each one a bitter insult to himself. I should have been the one to find her, I should have run away to her instead, he thought. Instead, his duty as a baron chained him with shackles not easily loosened. And yet she had risked everything for love despite being in the same situation. The thought made him sick to his stomach.
"I am pathetic…"
he whispered to no one
He leaned in closer to Elisa, catching the smell of her which reminded him of their first meeting, the scent of roses and daisies. It was cruel that the old mistress faith allowed their second meeting to fall under such miserable circumstances.
His face drew nearer, unable to help himself , his face inches away from hers. At first he admired her beauty, her cheeks still soft and flushed despite her exhaustion. Strands of golden blond hair spilled across the pillows like threads of fine sun kissed silk, scattered and tangled yet impossibly graceful. Her lashes rested delicately against her skin, as long and fine framing eyes that he was once lost in lay hidden in slumber.
His fingers intertwined with hers as his body rested dangerously close. Again and again his eyes stared at her, and with every second his heart broke a little more. Then shame strook him like thunder. He drew back once more, the realisation of how inappropriate it was to hover so near while she was asleep. He stared back longingly at her, clearly still wanting to be closer to her.
Her divine beauty against his battle worn figure, he wondered,
"how could someone like her choose me?"
she deserved joy, peace, and a life where she could rule the lands yet, here she is… lying on a bed in a foreign land across forests and cliffs.
"if only i had acted sooner…"
These words tore him apart as regret and guilt spilled out in the form of tears. His carefully crafted persona crumbling in front of no one. Had only he noticed that her letters stopped coming… had only he not been occupied with preparing for a war with her own kingdom…
if only…
He is terrified, not of death but of feeling, these feelings. He's walked through battlefields before, but never faced himself. These kinds of emotions were those that he would have never expected to be feeling. He thought he was devoid of them, that love was only a hollow arrangement, a false promise. that he was only going to marry a woman to conceive an heir and yet, he was undone over a princess who no longer is. A girl who had given everything to him, yet all he did was lead her astray.
He loathes his own incompetence. Lucian is a man who prides himself in being able to be the best and yet, even when he is, his blade couldn't protect the one who mattered the most. A wolf that slayed hundreds yet unable to protect a single one. Whose sharp blade became duller in an instant.