You Think I Won't Talk?-Chapter 445
The cursed archaic tool his allies had given was now taken out of his pocket... it was a small crystalline rock in which’s inside a bone, seemingly a piece that would pertain to a finger’s structure was held in his palm, rubbing its pointy end to prick his own finger so the opening of a cursed path could enable his escape... with an unconscious Marianne in his arms.
A hole opened in the thick of the Palace’s walls for Paul to walk through... and no soul noticed... how the Empire’s Ninth disappeared. For the work of a miserable one had shamelessly started to pursue its crazed desire... against us and our chosen child...
— They took the child... even as she wore Aenean’s tear... —
— It’s power... grrhaa... Dares chain mine....! —
— ... The wait was meant to end... our friend... go to the blood you protect... the child and her body’s souls... aid the one in love to get them back... —
— ... khkh grhaa... aid is his to give... my bloodthirst... compares to my protegee’s rage... —
From Izeneya, above where the doings in the realm could be watched, commenced to intently observe the mortals unfold in actions. The beastly Fenrir’s roar infected their solemnity... for they could see those below move without a push from the divines... Already having in their mind the child brought to fight another’s war.
— Ah... young he is... his love is nonetheless vast... our aid, let us give it to Oregor’s blood... —
Their eye fell on the one strong and in love... who before was aching in shock.
*******
— I hate you... Don’t ever talk or touch me again. —
Like a neverending recall, her voice and hateful expression repeated in his head, building up the panic while the pain made a tear fall down his violet that darkened helpless to the words.
Confusion had him lost in shock, and the heart of the Prince continuously throbbed painfully to the word he wanted and made great efforts so never would be told by the beloved.
’Hate... She...’ — "S-... she... hates me..."
— DON’T TOUCH ME! —
’W-with the voice I-... I so maddeningly wanted to listen...’
— Get your hands off of me! —
— I hate you —
"... no..."
— I hate you —
"Please..... my love..."
As it was himself who said it, Zeleskiaz’s voice broke. Depressed and stunned to know his imagination would never craft such horrifying words being told by the Lady. For it hurt him like tortuous death would, stabbing the heart she owns with thorns he did not know why would sting on it... unlike the Lady who did it for her own’s protection.
Zeleskiaz felt as if losing balance once his hand instinctively came to lay on the heart that ached, feeling it bleed unnaturally... as if its true stream had found the crack her hand had opened with a slap. And so, his eyes lowered, baffled by the excruciating grief, to try and see the invisible wound made up by strong emotions. Finding out how his blouse was slightly open while the shade that should be in a woman’s lips stained the clean colour.
"....."
Slowly, his fingers moved to pick up the bit of the fabric. Staring at it, confused as to why such tint was on it. The expression Marianne wore once meeting his eyes was then clearly recalled... as well as the woman that had disgusted him with her shameless attitude.
— DON’T TOUCH ME! —
"... She saw that woman leave..."
— I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Forget anything I said. —
"..... That woman... She left her disgusting mark on me..." — Starting to feel unsettled wrath as he began to understand the sudden reluctance and harshness of his beloved, Zeleskiaz started to think back on the appearance Karina had left the room solely meant for the in-love ones to visit. Boiling up the wish to kill the shameless woman... to then sigh desperate. Holding his head as he realised the misunderstanding that thanks to the speed and shock of the events could not be realised sooner. — "That-...! It’s because she saw such a misleading scene...!"
*BANG!... CraAacK...* — The hit his fist gave to the wall made little pieces of it fall as it cracked. Falling soft... tranquil unlike his stressed heart race resounded against a puffed chest... And aware of the destruction this frustrating realisation could invoke from the man himself, Zeleskiaz started to gasp, opening fidgety his hands. Ignorant of what to do with them for the violence his whole self sought.
"It’s a misunderstanding. It’s not what it appeared." — As if losing sanity, the crown prince who did not know what to do with himself at such complex emotions his soul experienced then looked the way Marianne had run to. Forcing stuffy composure to overtake his shaken reason which made him repeat to himself the truth about the fortuneless encounter to try and gain some real tranquility in the midst of desperation. — "It’s a misunderstanding... a misunderstanding..."
It was as his voice that lost energy that his wrath was placed aside so blank ponder could reign his impulses. Staring into the dim corridor for a moment until his head lowered, sighing saddened... while his feet stepped back so his back could meet the wall he had cracked, losing force and going down to crouch as his head was held strongly, repeating again and again the realisation so now relief could invade him steadily yet surely.
"... a misunderstanding..... That’s all it is... a misunderstanding... haaah... cursed luck..." — Out of breath, Zeleskiaz felt feverish as composure was starting to come back and one last time his head lifted to look where she had escaped from. Picturing clearly the tears her beautiful anthracite had while telling hurtful, yet untrue words...
"My love was crying..." — He muttered, without energy, pained now by the harm she must have experienced, forgetting his own and arriving at the contemplations behind such tears she shed. — "She was crying... suddenly... why..."
— DON’T TOUCH ME! —
His hands were stared, amassing timidly the excitement as he understood other matters...
’Could it be possible...?’ — Inhaling deeply his hand clenched to the thought, opening his eyes with a new glint once wishing to believe an uncertain hope.
