The cadence of her voice faltering, had his eyes narrow fractionally. The slight waver in her confidence was something he recognised clearly, causing his eyes to idly search the area around them.[color=#c14700] “You know very well my darkness, but to have you voice this…”[/color] he dare not finish, it would make little difference now.
There was a bittersweet taste to this reunion. He couldn’t quite understand his own feelings in these moments, allowing them to play out as the lovers conversed. There was a familiarity to the meaning behind her words. [color=#c14700]“Of that, I am perfectly aware,”[/color] blades were not the only weapons of destruction. Magic and action had driven them apart, stolen and locked away his very self.
[color=#c14700]“Adaria is more a Campana, than I ever will be.”[/color] He’d sigh, the slightest curl of a smile flickered into life.[color=#c14700] “My Mother thought there was plenty wrong with me, Eularia. It comes from a place of love.” [/color]
Ah love. Nothing had harmed his very soul more. If he reflected back it was something that had consumed and restrained him from some possible higher purpose. Attempting to rationalise it, remove emotion from the equation of events, had been difficult. Unusually he had been rather sullen and quiet, retreating to think, process and analyse the various threads and paths that had landed them here. This was why the two needed to meet. In the throes of confusion, experience had taught him that a rash response was never always conductive, especially when it had ever come to his wife.
Francesco would listen, though her words only had his gut twisting, churning with her response. With mention of Magnus, his muscles tensed, jaw clenched tight to avoid saying words he would, perhaps, regret later. It had taken nearly everything in him to not end the Crow when they’d finally come face to face.
[color=#c14700]“My wife? Really?”[/color] the bitterness he couldn’t hide, barely able to keep out the scoff in his laugh. [color=#c14700]“Truthfully I feel like a fool and though it’s a role I’ve played many times, this instance feels… bitterly cruel.”[/color] Every day of his life had been spent honing that skill to see through the acts of deception, the attempts to flatter and draw him in. Their courtship had been a difficult one, but he had believed it behind them, the vulnerable honesty and trust they shared unblemished.
[color=#c14700]“You seek to direct me into a role of adviser when my own sails are torn and shredded and my compass thrown into the depths of the sea!”[/color] His grip over her hand tightened some, though not enough to cause any harm. His emotions were not out of the realms of the King’s control. [color=#c14700]“I am adrift, Eularia.”[/color] He’d snap.[color=#c14700] “Without a horizon, without stars or maps to guide me. Even whole, as I am now, I have awoken to find I’m without an anchor. Do you honestly think I would do Enzo any good in this state?”[/color] He wasn’t in his right mind. No-one would be, but there wasn’t any respite from the endless piles of shit and vitriol that was being tossed left, right and centre. [color=#c14700]“You cut my anchor.” [/color]
A voice rang out, the body projecting it turning the corner was met with Frankie’s furiously dead eyed stare. Lips thinned into a hard line, but the dethroned King had little to say to the whippet’s retort and taunting jabs. Ignoring his words for bullshittery, Frankie instead snatched the man’s wrist, just shy of her face. [color=#c14700]“You’re interrupting something, and I don’t care who you are,”[/color] tugging him a distance away by the wrist, Frankie would discard the caught wrist with a flick. [color=#c14700]“She’s not a waste. You obviously don’t have the eyes to recognise exactly what she has.” [/color]
There was a bittersweet taste to this reunion. He couldn’t quite understand his own feelings in these moments, allowing them to play out as the lovers conversed. There was a familiarity to the meaning behind her words. [color=#c14700]“Of that, I am perfectly aware,”[/color] blades were not the only weapons of destruction. Magic and action had driven them apart, stolen and locked away his very self.
[color=#c14700]“Adaria is more a Campana, than I ever will be.”[/color] He’d sigh, the slightest curl of a smile flickered into life.[color=#c14700] “My Mother thought there was plenty wrong with me, Eularia. It comes from a place of love.” [/color]
Ah love. Nothing had harmed his very soul more. If he reflected back it was something that had consumed and restrained him from some possible higher purpose. Attempting to rationalise it, remove emotion from the equation of events, had been difficult. Unusually he had been rather sullen and quiet, retreating to think, process and analyse the various threads and paths that had landed them here. This was why the two needed to meet. In the throes of confusion, experience had taught him that a rash response was never always conductive, especially when it had ever come to his wife.
Francesco would listen, though her words only had his gut twisting, churning with her response. With mention of Magnus, his muscles tensed, jaw clenched tight to avoid saying words he would, perhaps, regret later. It had taken nearly everything in him to not end the Crow when they’d finally come face to face.
[color=#c14700]“My wife? Really?”[/color] the bitterness he couldn’t hide, barely able to keep out the scoff in his laugh. [color=#c14700]“Truthfully I feel like a fool and though it’s a role I’ve played many times, this instance feels… bitterly cruel.”[/color] Every day of his life had been spent honing that skill to see through the acts of deception, the attempts to flatter and draw him in. Their courtship had been a difficult one, but he had believed it behind them, the vulnerable honesty and trust they shared unblemished.
[color=#c14700]“You seek to direct me into a role of adviser when my own sails are torn and shredded and my compass thrown into the depths of the sea!”[/color] His grip over her hand tightened some, though not enough to cause any harm. His emotions were not out of the realms of the King’s control. [color=#c14700]“I am adrift, Eularia.”[/color] He’d snap.[color=#c14700] “Without a horizon, without stars or maps to guide me. Even whole, as I am now, I have awoken to find I’m without an anchor. Do you honestly think I would do Enzo any good in this state?”[/color] He wasn’t in his right mind. No-one would be, but there wasn’t any respite from the endless piles of shit and vitriol that was being tossed left, right and centre. [color=#c14700]“You cut my anchor.” [/color]
A voice rang out, the body projecting it turning the corner was met with Frankie’s furiously dead eyed stare. Lips thinned into a hard line, but the dethroned King had little to say to the whippet’s retort and taunting jabs. Ignoring his words for bullshittery, Frankie instead snatched the man’s wrist, just shy of her face. [color=#c14700]“You’re interrupting something, and I don’t care who you are,”[/color] tugging him a distance away by the wrist, Frankie would discard the caught wrist with a flick. [color=#c14700]“She’s not a waste. You obviously don’t have the eyes to recognise exactly what she has.” [/color]
07-12-2023, 10:44 AM
