Scorvis' perspective.76Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4ZpoSS16Zn
Present day.
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With careful brush strokes, I gently painted on the canvas, light pink's and golden yellows.
I didn't let myself think of anything else as I just painted, carefully adding in the shading to make my portrait.
So I just painted.
I held up my painting, then slammed it back down on the counter.
It wasn't enough, it wasn't even close to what she looked like.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't capture the glow of her smile, or the warmth she gave, or the light in her yellow eyes.
She wasn't here, no matter how much I wished she could be.
She couldn't be.
My ring stayed there, on my finger, just the same as it did seven years ago when I bought it for my love.
I just stared at it, trying to remember what it was like before.
The excitement, the love, the happiness, how beautiful she was.
I couldn't remember everything, and I hated that.
"Your Highness?"
Ah, of course, Marinette, coming at the same time she always did.
Ever since my love...went away...she had developed a new routine, it seemed.
I put on a smile that almost hurt my cheeks from doing it so often.
"Yes, Madame, you can come in!" I tried so hard to make my voice sound happy, but it always did sound empty.
It made my chest tighten a little to have to call her such a formal tone--if only she would take the hint that I didn't want her help.
"I brought you breakfast," She hummed, coming in instantly, still wearing her same dress.
Of course she had, she was always so sweet, even if I wasn't hungry.
I hadn't really been hungry in years.
Her light amethyst colors bounced around her head, her dress swishing around her.
While I was already starting to dully think on how I would be able to shade such a dress, she set down a plate of cake and tea.
I offered her thanks, but based on the look in her eyes, I knew she wouldn't leave.
"Yes, Miss Marinette, what is it you need?" I hummed, returning to my paperwork, and rubbing my eyes.
There was far to much of it, and I was far to tired for it.
But I had to practice for my speech tonight...oh, if only I could pros-pone it just a few more weeks.
"I am just insuring your safety, your Highness."
"Safety? Whatever do you mean?"
"Well, your highness, if I may be so bold to say..."
"You may," I said, my heart going just a little faster, wondering what she would say.
My eyes were kept on the paperwork, but I heard every word she said.
"Well, you--" She hesitated in a way that was very unfit for her.
Perhaps, if I cared enough, I would have wondered what she had stopped herself from saying.
Well, I suppose that meant I did think of it; how unfortunate.
It was likely just the same merit-less concern that had her removing all of my beautiful knives every night.
"I just don't want you to be alone, today of all days."
"Well, miss Marinette, I do appreciate your concern."
I absolutely did not.
"But you want me to leave, don't you?"
"Yes, thank you, you have work to do, I assu--?"
"Iso...please."
My eyes widened briefly, and I turned around so fast it made the papers spill out.
"What was that?"
I whispered...why would she call me that now?
I wasn't--I wasn't her son....
She stepped forward, her heels clicking against the marble, as she put an arm on my shoulder.
"Iso, let me help ple--"
"No, no, you can't! You can't, you can't help!" I shouted, pushing her off.
No one could help, no one could bring Lalian back.
She couldn't come back.
Never, never, never, never.
My breath caught in my throat, and everything hurt.
Marinette stumbled back a bit, and I put my head down, because I couldn't bare to see the look in her eyes.
I knew my words had hurt...but I just wanted her to leave, I didn't want her to try and fix something that couldn't be fixed.
And maybe, just maybe, I didn't want her to see me cry.
She had better things to do!
My nails dug into my clenched fists so hard I could feel blood.
I focused on how much it hurt, so I didn't have to think about other things....
"Oh, my Iso," She whispered, but I stayed silent.
I expected her to leave, I needed he to leave, but she didn't.
Instead, I gasped a little when she put her arms around me.
I could smell her perfume, lemon and flower, and I felt her warmth.
Something burned in my eyes, but I refused to achnowledge it.
"Ashka, please." I whispered, then stopped when I realized what I had said.
I wasn't her son...she wasn't my mother...so why did I call her?
"Please leave."
It was an order, it was meant to be an order, but it came out as a plea.
"Yes...your highness."
She put a hand on my cold cheek, then pulled away.
I hated the part of me that didn't want her to leave.
But I ignored it, and suddenly I was very, very, cold again.
I put my half finished painting of My Love and went back to my paperwork.
It was for the best, after-all.
76Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLDYKBK0t0q
76Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyHuz98nXk0
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The speech went...fine.
Smile, wave, answer questions, read from a script I'd memorized, I'd done it all a thousand times.
The crowd was a little more furious and divided then usual, but hopefully I had calmed it down some.
So very many problems...so many problems I couldn't solve.
As much as I wanted to go home and rest...and dream...I also had a meeting with the now King of Illiout.
Oh stars, how exciting.
He had been crowned--what was it, one week ago? No, two weeks ago?
It did not matter, or rather, it did matter and I did not care.
My love was the one who cared about those things...my love was the one who could remember those things.
My love was the one who should be--
I forced the thought away to the bottom of my mind as I walked into the castle.
The bottom, always the bottom.
Adjusting my gloves, I greeted Madeline and Marinette, then went to my quarters.
I needed to address the scratch marks on my arms, of course.
76Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx1nhAVbeop
76Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMd42DYsd3l
