[PAST ] A Quiet Rendezvous

Eularia had been caged. First by the Dame Campana, who had sent her as far away as she could manage. Second by the man she'd been sent too. And the final cage, the kingdom that she loved. She would never blame Francesco, because this kingdom was his cage too. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd taken this chance—his 'death' to flee while the cage door was open.

If it'd been her, she would've.

Well, she liked to think she would've. The reality was, her children were just another shackle. She'd do anything for them; had done things for them that no-one should ever do. How many lives were on her hands?

How many people had she killed to ensure her family was safe? And how long was she going to pretend she wasn't unhappy?

She'd never wanted the royal titles that she held. She didn't want that life for her children, either. But they were born and raised for it. They'd fare better than she, a poor urchin off the streets, sticking her hands into the pockets of men with a smile and a laugh.

Back then, it'd been fun. Survival, but a life she had enjoyed. Nomadic, wandering, dancing.

There was only so much she could do, with her position as it were. She was a queen but she was nothing more than a face; a scorned one at that.

Eularia was lost in her thoughts, so lost that she did not feel the way he'd laced their fingers, and when he spoke and brought her back out of her mind, she smiled.

Does it? I imagine there's not much left to shine, she murmured the words, as she squeezed his hand. Comfortable. The kind of comfort she craved. He tilted his head towards a parcel, and she let her gaze wander to it, her smile just a little bit more real now.

You shouldn't have. What do you get the woman that has almost everything? She joked, as she slipped her hand from his to open the gift.

And that smile widened, reached her eyes, which brightened with amusement. Magnus! You kept it? It'd held her handwriting in the margins, notes and scribbles. The little book held tears of frustration across some of the more challenging pages.

A lot of memories in one small gift. Thank you. It was a reminder that she did still have a friend; even if he was the only person in the entire kingdom that didn't hate her. Once, it'd been just the two of them, learning and practicing their magic and hiding their true selves away.

Y'know what I think 'bout sometimes? She sounded guilty as she settled against him, book in her hand, pages idly skimmed. I think what it'd be like if I'd killed him, all those years ago. Would life be better for me? Would I be in this place?