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Chapter Text

"Alright,  here ya go."

Clorinde stiffened as the harsh clang of coins reverberated against the dull walls of the Duke's office. She glanced at the pouch that he tossed on his desk. It was gaudy in appearance, and it looked more like a small nap sack than a coin purse, but the outline of the mora within was visible with how full the pouch was.

Hesitantly,  she stepped forward, but couldn't bring herself to pick it up. Was she supposed to just grab it and go? Just like that? This was the first time she's seen him in… just about forever. He didn't want to ask her anything?  Tell her anything? Even after everything, she hoped for at least something. But what that something was, she wasn't quite sure.  What did she even expect? She accepted a commission, and he was paying her for completing it. Simple as that. She's done commission work before, so why did this time feel any different?

Was anything more necessary?

The Duke leaned back in his chair and motioned to the pouch.  "That's the agreed payment, not a mora more, not a mora less... more or less. Feel free to count it if you like, I'll take no offense."

Clorinde bit the inside of her cheek and grabbed the pouch. It was much heavier than she thought it would be, but she kept her surprise to herself.  "That won't be necessary, Your Grace, I trust you," she said.

She swore the sharp ice in his eyes softened, but when he blinked, whatever change or difference she thought she saw was gone. 

"As I do you, Mademoiselle," he said and picked up some documents on his desk and started to read through it. 

That was her cue to go, she knew these kinds of social details quite well. But hearing him address her like that yet again sounded far too strange. He'd been doing that since she first accepted his commission. She thought she could get used to it, told herself to,  but she just couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. Hearing him call her that grated on her ears. It sounded too out of place. And she was addressed that way by hundreds a day! 

"Do you want me to summon a guard to escort you back to the surface?" He asked her suddenly. 

Clorinde stiffened again, and glanced back at him.  He was looking at her from just over the edge of the report in his hand, and she realized with a start that this was the first time he's looked her in the eyes since she arrived in the fortress.

That softness was there again,  she swore it was, and quite suddenly she was reminded of the boy that used to toss small rocks at her window. The one that would show her the strangest bugs or the prettiest rocks.  

The one that once took her hand and asked her for forever… 

"That won't be necessary, Your Grace," she said and turned to leave. She needed to get back home. She was tired, more mentally than physically, and she could only imagine how tired he must be. The pile of paperwork on his desk was immense. 

Still, even as her foot hovered over the steps leading out of his main office, she did not move. There was this intense nagging feeling telling her to say something to him. Something else, but what that something was, she had no idea. She just didn't want to just grab the mora and leave like she was some kind of gardemech with a human face. But, isn't that what one did?  Isn't that what adventurers did? 

"Tell me, why does it feel like you have even more free time than me? Your title wasn’t bought, was it?" She blurted without thinking. As soon as she said it, she mentally slapped herself. Of all things she could have said, she had to criticize his accomplishments?  She wasn't even honest in her ridiculous accusations! 

The Duke's brows rose high on his head, and he carefully set the report in his hand down, which turned out not to be a report at all. Rather, it was the comics page from the steambird hidden behind said report. He didn't even try to hide it either! 

Clorinde narrowed her eyes and stepped closer to question him, but silenced herself once he held up a finger. 

"One moment, please," he said and leaned down to rifle through his drawers. He sped through three separate ones,  each time producing several thick documents, and laid them out across his desk for her to see. "Now, let me see... 'excellent management'... 'leading tax contributor'," he said as he held up each official document. "Oh, and 'specially granted this title...' Well, what do you know?" He said and leaned back in his chair, his expression as serious as stone.  "Good guess, that's pretty much what happened after all." 

Clorinde was speechless. Part because she questioned him in the first place, and part because of how serious he stayed the whole time. She hadn't meant for it to come off like she actually doubted the hard work he put in the fortress. However at this point, it felt awkward to clarify that she was only joking. Though, she didn't exactly try her hardest to sound like she was… instead she sounded accusatory. 

It was a harsh reminder that she had no social life. 

"I-I only jest, " she embarrassingly stammered out anyway.  "I didn't intend to mock your accomplishments, Your Grace, it was simply a terrible attempt at…" light hearted banter? Humor?  She really had no idea.  "...conversation," she settled with.  

"Hmm," he watched her for a few beats of silence,  then a few more. It was as if he was reading all of the confused and incoherent shouts in the back of her head. Right as she was starting to feel too uncomfortable, he cleared his throat and pulled out an exquisite looking box from one of his drawers. "Then, would you care to join me for a cup of tea?  We can let bygones be bygones as we enjoy the pleasant aroma of earl gray."

This was the opportunity she was looking for! It had to be…

"Sure!" She said perhaps a bit too eagerly. She quickly recovered, as best she could.  "I mean… I'd like that."

For the first time since seeing him again in well over a decade, he smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. They remained icy, cold. As guarded as the Fortress of Meropide itself. 

She couldn't blame him.  But she also couldn't help but wonder if he meant all bygones… 

Chapter Text

In truth,  he was amused by her little comment about his title. It did, at its bare bones,  almost sound like she was right. Like he could have paid someone off for it. 

"Hmm."

She looked like there was something else she wanted to say. Wriothesley considered asking her what was on her mind,  but he decided against it. He was in no place to pry into a lady's thoughts.  However, since she accepted his commission,  he has been dying to know what exactly she was thinking behind that stern demeanor. He purposely sent his commission to her office in the hopes that she would accept it.  

He didn't really think this whole situation through,  didn't expect that she would actually accept it.  The fact that she hadn't taken her pay and left yet meant that she must want something else.  

He knew it was dangerous to think about it,  but he had sent her the commission without thinking in the first place. 

Does she want to talk about what happened back then? 

Is that why he reached out to her?  He's just opening old wounds that will only be harder to close. And yet, looking at her now. The way she holds her arm around her chest in a protective manner, he's reminded of the shy girl that used to peer down at him from her window.  The one that could talk for days about the strangest books, or hum the prettiest tunes.

The one he once got down on one knee for… 

Wriothesley kept his eyes on her as he reached into a desk drawer.  He pulled out the box he kept his favorite teas in and set it in front of him. 

"Then, would you care to join me for a cup of tea?  We can let bygones be bygones as we enjoy the pleasant aroma of earl gray."

She nodded suddenly,  her response quick. "Sure!" Her eyes widened and she cleared her throat and looked away.  "I mean… I'd like that," she amended as she glanced back at him. 

Wriothesley did not expect such enthusiasm from the famed Champion Duelist, so much so that he found himself smiling. 

He held her twilight gaze for just a moment longer before pressing his palms on the desk and pushing down on it as he stood. It creaked under the momentary weight, but he paid it no mind.  It was a sturdy thing built from metal, and would take a lot more than that to damage it. 

He noticed from the corner of his eye that she was watching him, but he carried on as if he hadn't noticed the intensity in the way she stared.

He was used to it. 

People stared at him often, even as a child he got stares. He knew it had to do with how strange he has always looked. He had made peace with it long ago. He went from one extreme to another.  Now, he towered over most, and had to duck his head whenever he entered a doorway in the overworld. On occasion he even smashed his forehead against the pesky wooden frames if he spent too long at a time in the fortress.  

Wriothesley moved over to the table in his office and motioned to the couch.  "Please have a seat, Mademoiselle."

A frown painted its way on her face, before her lips pressed into a thin line. He expected her to refuse or question him,  but she silently accepted his gesture and took a seat. 

He went about preparing the hot water. The entire time, he felt her eyes on him,  but he didn't acknowledge it aloud. The atmosphere did feel too heavy though, so he decided to make conversation. 

"What do you think of the fortress, Mademoiselle?"

He heard her sigh softly and drum her fingers against the table. "I can see how much work you've put into it, Your Grace."

"Ah, so is that a good thing? " He asked as he walked over with a tray of his finest porcelain. He sat her cup in front of her. It was one he never actually used before. It had intricate gold designs accented with small violet flowers. It was far daintier than anything in his collection. Why he even had it,  he didn't really have an explanation for,  did he purchase it without realizing? Did it come with tea, or was it a gift?  Either way,  he rather liked how it looked in her elegant hands.

She nodded as she inspected the cup and carefully took a sip of the steaming drink.  "It is."

Wriothesley sat beside her, leaving enough room for another person between them. He was a bit disappointed that she didn't offer any more insight. He could talk to himself if he really felt like it,  but he was really hoping she'd put some effort into the conversation. 

"How do you like it? " He asked and gestured to her cup. He only shared tea from his special collection with his most important guests, and he figured as the most prominent champion duelist, she fit the bill quite well. 

"It's very pleasant. Your Grace."

It was his turn to frown.  He hoped for a little more than that. Maybe he had been reading too much into her body language before. Maybe she only accepted his commission because she felt like it was a responsibility of hers. 

Is that why she insisted on using his formal title?  He'd long gotten used to hearing people address him by Your Grace, but hearing her say it was akin to being addressed in such a way for the first time. 

The other possibility that he was only now considering was, did she not recognize him? That actually made a lot of sense… 

She used to be taller than him, and he looked different. His hair used to be very thin, and wispy, and he wore it short because it would often fall out. He had a rather ghastly appearance, and he used to be ashamed of himself. He used to have a very poor constitution, and was always injured in some way due to how boney he was. He remembered always having a bandage on his face,  arm or leg. As a child he thought it was just how he was, a weak and sickly person. His ribs were visible and he hid his unsightly frame under baggy clothes. Though it wasn't until he was older that he realized he was just severely malnourished.

Going to prison was one of the best things that could have happened to him in one aspect. It was much easier to get food, even back then when the system was rigged. He was still able to find a way to feed himself without someone actively keeping food away from him. He grew so fast at one point he thought he had some kind of condition. 

There was also the— now— glaringly obvious fact that he went by a different name now. 

If she didn't know,  was it worth telling her?  Was this an opportunity for him to rethink his previous impulsive actions?  Letting her go back to her day to day life without telling her who he was, who he used to be, was the best course of action,  but…

He really wanted to tell her…

He should have thought about this more. 

He's served his sentence, would she still fault him for his actions? Though served or not, that didn't change who he was, a murderer… and she was the epitome of justice.

"I really like this tea, " she said suddenly, yanking him out of his tumultuous thoughts. 

"Oh! You do?  I'm glad to hear it, it's one of my favorites," he said,  unable to hide his enthusiasm. "It cost a pretty penny, but I don't mind,  it's definitely worth it."

She smiled gently though quickly hid it with another dainty sip. "Is there really a difference with cost?"

"Oh,  of course there is,  in some situations I would say absolutely not,  but when it comes to tea? Cost definitely has an impact, brand is also very important, you see…" he started telling her about different tea leaves, supply chain issues, soil quality, even how the leaves themselves are dried. He continued on until the clock on his shelf chimed the hour.

He hadn't even realized he'd gone on for so long, and cringed internally when he noticed. Most didn't care for such miniscule details, and he tried his best to hide just how enthused he was regarding all things tea, but somehow he'd gotten more than carried away. 

"Do you know, what? " She asked suddenly. 

Wriothesley scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat. "Uh, what? "

She frowned and motioned at him. "You stopped mid sentence, you said: do you know. What were you going to ask me?"

Shit, he completely forgot his previous train of thought, and now he was fretting too much to try and remember. "Uh, well, unfortunately it seems like the tea has gone cold— Besides, I'm sure you are very busy,  I've kept you long enough." 

He watched in surprise as her posture seemed to deflate.

"Oh, right of course, I should get going, thank you for the tea, Your Grace, " she stood, and made a brisk walk for the steps.

"Mademoiselle, wait," he blurted suddenly. 

She stopped and turned to look him in the eyes with a frown on her lips. Her brows were also deeply furrowed, and he was taken aback by how upset she looked.

"Yes?" She asked quietly.

I'm actually… 

Do you remember?... 

"You know,  I… you finished the commission so quickly that I was thinking… Well, if you had the time to accept more commissions, I'd be grateful," he stood and moved around the table to stand in front of her. "And I figured, since we'll hopefully be working together more often, you don't have to be so formal, you can call me Wriothesley…" he said and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm Wriothesley now."

He realized he fumbled that terribly, but all he could really do was stand there and wait for her response.  

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and took a step closer to him, her vibrant eyes focused on his face. 

It wasn't every day that someone's stare could make him self conscious,  but she somehow had that power. What did she see when she looked at him? Did she still see that broken pale boy he used to be? Or the vengeful murderer that had killed two people with crude weapons made from everyday items? The one who stated in front of the court that he would do it again without hesitation.  

"Wriothesley, " she whispered softly.  "How did you get that scar by your eye?"

"I fell out of a tree…" he said. "And a branch cut me on the way down." As he was saying it,  the memory popped into his head. He was really young, and he was really hungry.  He always was.  But this time,  his hunger had driven him to break into a noble man's garden because he had multiple different fruit trees. 

He was only going to take one… but the branch he had stepped on snapped as soon as he stood on it. He remembered the sharp sting as the wood sliced into his face, and his eye was blood red for weeks. When he hit the ground there was a young girl around his age standing there in the fanciest silk and cotton dress. She stopped the apple he dropped from rolling away with her foot and knelt down to pick it up.

She carefully cleaned it on her skirt before holding it out to him.

Here you go boy, you can have more if you'd like,  Father won't miss them. 

"Picking apples?" She whispered.

As soon as she said that, his heart skipped. She remembered?

"Stealing," he corrected instinctively.

She clicked her tongue and started to make her way down the stairs. "It's not really stealing if it's gifted in the end, is it?"

"I suppose not," he mumbled.

 He followed after her,  determined to see her off.  If she remembered, then maybe his efforts weren't in vain.  He tried his best not to get ahead of himself,  but it was difficult not to with how fast his mind was running. 

"I think it's only fair if you return the favor, " she said as she stopped by his office door. 

He was going to ask her what she meant,  but she beat him to it. 

"If we are to be working together,  it only makes sense that you call me by my name as well," she held his gaze in curious silence while he stared at her like a fool.

He thought she wasn't finished, that she was going to tell him what her name was. But she didn't say another word, and she didn't have to.

He knew her name, everyone in Fontaine knew the name of the most skilled champion duelist. 

"Miss Clorinde," he unintentionally whispered. He hadn't said her name out loud in over a decade. In fact it was almost closer to two decades than one.

"I suppose that will do," she said and swiftly left the office with a polite, good night.  Leaving him stunned as the large door slammed in his face. 

Chapter Text

No matter how hard Clorinde tried, she couldn't stop thinking about the new Duke of Meropide, and it had been at least a month since she finished the commission he gave her.

Wriothesley…

It was an interesting name to choose. She couldn't help but wonder how it came about. Was it granted to him alongside his new title?  It certainly wasn't rare. People that were given noble status were often awarded new family names or new names entirely. 

However, what she cared more about was how has he been? When he disappeared so many years ago,  she was terrified that something horrible happened to him. She had searched all over for him, but could never find anything. As an orphan, he didn't have any documentation, and when his orphanage was attacked. Any paperwork that did exist was lost. It was as if he never existed. She was devastated. 

Knowing he had a new name now made sense as to why she couldn't find any trace of him. The last time she saw him was the night of the incident, like a nightmare that haunted her dreams.

I need your help, Clo… Can you come out? 

She closed her eyes and tried to shake away the memory,  but it, and the way his icy blue eyes shone in the low light were engraved in her memory.  

I can't, my parents are hosting a party, and they keep asking me to entertain the guests. What's wrong? 

At the time,  she didn't know how to describe the look on his face.  But now,  she knew it had been fear. 

Clo, please… I can't— I just don't want to be alone right now… 

That had been her warning. He was practically screaming at her for help, but at the time, she'd only heard his terrified whisper as his attempt to try not to alert her parents of his presence outside her window.

Come sit in my room then, we can talk after the guests go home. I can sneak you some sandwiches, I made them, I'm sure you'll like them.  

He smiled then, and placed his hand over hers and squeezed it gently.  I wish I could.  He'd said before climbing back down to the ground.

She should have known something was horribly wrong,  he never turned down food before. 

Where are you going? 

A walk,  I need to clear my head. 

She remembered wanting to go with him, and she cursed herself constantly that she hadn't.

  You'll come by tomorrow? She'd asked him. 

He had picked up a bag and hoisted it onto his back. She remembered seeing something catch the moonlight sticking out of it that was sharp. 

I'll reach out if I can.  He'd whispered before disappearing down the winding street. 

But she never heard from him again. 

She blamed herself.  He asked her for help that night and she didn't see how much he needed her.  

She thought he ran away to Mondstadt like he said he wanted to do once. But the rumors from the incident made her question. Did he also lose his life that night? Did he know something was going to happen at the orphanage? Never did it occur to her that he was still in Fontaine.

She had been so devastated that she did her best to steer away from all things related to the case. So even to this day,  she really didn't know what exactly happened.

But he was alive!  That's all that really mattered to her.  Even better,  he remembered her. Though why he waited so long to reveal that still confused her,  did he not want to tell her that he did?  Is that why he didn't say anything until she literally invaded his space? 

Oh, but why did he send her that commission?

Clorinde shook her head and forced herself to focus on the road in front of her. She'll get nowhere fast with what ifs, but it was so hard not to think about.  That boy made up nearly half of her life, and then he was gone, just like that. Only to re-emerge quite literally out of the blue. 

She passed by a tea shop that sat in a corner street,  normally she would keep on walking,  but this time, it caught her eye. 

I'll just check it out. I've never been inside it… 

Typically she was content with coffee, or water, or after her more stressful shifts, a bit of wine.  But here she was, stepping into a tea shop while pretending she didn't know exactly why she was in here.

By the looks of the elaborate shelves and decor, this store was for tea enthusiasts. The shelves were dotted with expensive looking tea sets and jars full of the strangest kind of tea leaves.  

Clorinde carefully walked through the isles,  amazed by how many brands there were. All with their own varieties in flavor. The Duke was right, there was a lot more to tea than it seemed.

If she could,  she'd like to get a small box of the tea the Duke had treated her to,  but she wasn't sure which one to purchase.  He'd told her that each brand was slightly different in flavor, and some brands were a waste of money. For some reason, she didn't think to ask him the name of the one he got.

She didn't think it mattered. Maybe she should just choose one at random and hope for the best. 

The bell of the shop jingled as a blonde woman with an elegant dress walked in.  Clorinde looked up in hope,  thinking it was her best friend. If anyone could help her,  it was Navia of the Spina de Rosula,  but she quickly saw it was just a stranger. 

The woman swept into the shop with ease,  the necklace decorating her chest sat just above her cleavage,  which looked like it was formed thanks to how tight her corset was. The gem was tiny,  yet it caught the light just so,  that eyes no doubt found their way staring at it. 

Clorinde shook her head slowly and turned her attention back to the teas in front of her. That woman was a typical example of the fashion of noble women of Fontaine. It was something she gave up for herself in exchange for the life behind a blade. But sometimes,  she couldn't help but be envious of women like her,  especially those of her size. 

Women like that looked like perfect little figurines, like artistic statues in a painting.  They could fit in any garment, or have any garment fitted to them.  She wasn't so lucky. Finding clothing that fit properly was a bit difficult,  and most times she had to pay extra for custom attire.  She's torn seams before by simply stretching.  She was naturally larger in the chest than the average Fontainian woman, her thighs were also larger than she wished they were.  She was also taller than average. She saw eye to eye with most men, and even needed to look down to meet the eyes of some. Her heels only made this issue more obvious.  

But in exchange she was strong.  She was toned well enough in the arms,  and her legs were something she was quite proud of… on most days. 

Now?  She only felt self conscious, and did her best to look inconspicuous.

The woman grabbed a few jars and practically floated over to the counter.  She rang the bell and a few moments later the clerk walked out,  another beautiful blonde woman.  Her hair was more of a pale blonde than the other woman's,  but they both had the brightest eyes.  Like the crystal blue of the ocean's surface. 

"Good afternoon dear Elodie!  How are you doing?" The clerk greeted her happily.

Elodie humed and set her wares on the counter.  "My dear,  Maddie, I'm not sure if I should be in a wonderful mood or be in a sour one! " 

"Oh whatever happened?"

Elodie cleared her throat and leaned on the counter in quite the dramatic fashion. "I met with him," she whispered, not so quietly.  

The clerk, Maddie, gasped and leaned closer. "You did?  Well then why in the world would your mood be sour? Did he not satisfy you? "

"Oh he did, but he wouldn't even let me kiss him,  not even his hands!  Not to mention he wouldn't fuck me unless I got on my hands and knees. Oh he made me feel like a common whore!" Elodie complained. "And when I complained he just shrugged it off and said I could leave if I wished! "

Clorinde instantly blushed and held the tea box in her hand closer to her face. Hearing noble women speak so frankly was a bit shocking.  Didn't they see her big head over the shelves? Perhaps she should just leave… 

"Oh, dear," Maddie sighed. "I did tell you that he wasn't your everyday dandy!"

"At least he offered me tea afterwards," she sighed dramatically. "But he had the prettiest cup with purple flowers on it, I recognized it as a unique special addition,  so of course I asked him to use it, and you know what he did?"

Maddie leaned closer to her. "Oh my, what? "

"He said he changed his mind!" She nearly screeched.  

"What!?"

"Yeah, he just grabbed my coat and offered to walk me back to the surface!"

The surface? 

Clorinde wished she hadn't connected the dots so quickly on who exactly the two women were gossiping about. But it was done. She had suspected,  but that was the final nail in the coffin.  

She glanced at her reflection in some silverware and grimaced. The Duke likes blondes?...

She shouldn't be surprised, but she was, much to her embarrassment. Even worse,  she felt something else that was a strange mix of disappointment and hurt. 

That's what I get for being presumptuous, she thought with a frown.  

Not wanting to seem suspicious,  she grabbed a random box and moved over to the counter. The clerk shooed away her friend so she could ring her up. 

She was perfectly professional with the transaction,  but Clorinde couldn't wipe the frown off of her face,  not even when the woman gave her a free assortment of samples as a 'new customer special'. 

She just wanted to leave.

This is probably a blessing in disguise,  she thought as she left the shop. Now she didn't have to waste energy wondering if he was still interested in her… 

Clorinde shook her head and hurried home, she didn't want to spend the rest of her day outside when she was barely home in the first place. 

As soon as she got back to her little house she noticed her mailbox had a letter in it.  

Curious,  she set her bag down and took the letter out.

Miss Clorinde,  

When you receive this letter I'll be in town for a few meetings, but I'll be free every evening for supper starting today, and lasting until dusk on my fourth day in the city.

 There is a small café I like to visit, just outside of the Vasari Passage to the south. It's quiet and out of the way,  so it's a great place to relax. If you'd like to join me, I'd be more than happy to cover any expense you may require. 

The letter was signed only with a wax seal of a wolf that was cold to the touch, but it was enough for her to know.  

He's in town?  She bit her lip and glanced around.  Should she go? She wanted to, but the more she thought about it,  the more she felt like, perhaps it wasn't a good idea. It didn't sound like a business invitation either. 

She read the letter multiple times, over the next few days while she agonized over whether or not she should go. 

He wasn't her direct employer, but he was also technically her superior. The title of Duke was rare, and one of the highest honors in Fontaine. Meeting with him outside of business purposes would just complicate things.

But then the final day approached, and she found herself hesitantly stepping into the damned Cafe. 

As soon as she walked in she was welcomed with a pleasant aroma of spices accompanied by a faint sweetness.  A woman with auburn hair greeted her with a friendly smile. 

"Good evening,  are you Mademoiselle Clorinde?"

"Oh,  yes?" She said,  surprised.  

"Come right this way, His Grace has been expecting you, " she said. 

Clorinde slowed down.  "He is? "

"Mhm, He mentioned you quite a few times! I must say as, I'm a bit jealous!" 

"Uh, whatever for?" She asked in confusion. 

"Have you not seen the man?" The waitress asked in shock. 

Clorinde decided not to respond. They were just about in front of the table he was sitting at anyway.  It was in the corner of the establishment,  but he sat with his back facing the wall,  giving him a view of anyone approaching.  Though he looked half asleep while he read over some documents.  

"Ahem, pardon me, Your Grace, the Madam you've been waiting for has arrived!" The waitress said. 

Clorinde nearly scoffed. Why would she switch so suddenly to calling her Madam?  

He glanced up from his paper and practically tossed it aside. "Ah, Miss Clorinde, I thought I'd sent the letter to the wrong location," he motioned across from him. "Please, have a seat."

Clorinde sat down and offered a smile in greeting.  "To be honest,  I was unsure if I should trouble you or not. "

"Nonsense, why else would I send it?" 

She didn't know what to say to that, because she honestly wasn't sure why he sent it. She just cleared her throat.  "Well, what should I get? "

The waitress spoke up.  "Well I think you'd like our mini shepherd's pie, it's a favorite here!"

"Oh,  alright, sure," Clorinde said.  

"Mhn, mhm and to drink? "

"Just water."

The waitress nodded and turned her back to her.  "And your grace?  How are you doing this evening? Is there anything else I could get you? Something sweet perhaps? "

"Just another cuppa tea would be great," he said.  

The woman giggled and placed her hand on his bicep. "Alright, I'll be back! " She announced and hurried off. 

He sighed heavily once she was gone and turned back to her. "I can't believe you just asked for water in a café."

Clorinde shrugged. "I wasn't sure what to say, and I didn't want her to wait on me so —"

He laughed. "Darling, that's her job."

"I guess you're right…" She couldn't help her surprise by how he'd addressed her, but she let it go because she didn't want to assume. 

A blanket of silence fell over them, but Clorinde wasn't sure if it was awkward or not. She felt like she should say something, but deciding on what was the issue. 

"So, how have your meetings been going?" She finally asked. 

"Hm, long and boring,  I'm just glad they're over," he sighed and glanced at the papers he'd tossed aside. "For the most part,  I've got a lot of paperwork to do when I get back, a few cold cases have been reopened, and I've volunteered to cooperate with the Palais Mermonia with their investigations. There's suspicious things going on that might be connected to the serial disappearance case, and since I've got my ear on the ground,  I've heard some whisperings…"

Clorinde glanced around and leaned closer so she could speak quieter. "Should you be telling me that?"

He leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin in thought. "Hmm, well, now that you mention it, perhaps not,  but I trust you won't say anything, so there's nothing for me to be concerned about."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Your Grace,  you just met me,  how are you to know? " Even as she made herself finish her comment,  she felt foolish,  and by the way his brows rose, she figured he thought so too. 

"Come on, darling, you and I both know that is the furthest thing from the truth," he said with a wry smile. 

She had to say something this time… "Your Grace,  don't you think that's a bit too familiar?"

He frowned,  "Hm? Is it?"

"I believe so,  just Clorinde is appropriate for our situation I would think. "

He nodded slowly and absently swirled the remaining tea in his cup.  "So that's the game you want to play?  Very well,  Miss Clorinde,  forgive my presumptuousness."

"Game?  There isn't a—" 

"Here's your order!" The waitress announced as she hurried over. She set everything down in front of Clorinde quite hastily, but when she set the cup in front of Wriothesley, she made a show of it. "Here is your tea,  your grace,  I brewed a fresh pot,  just for you~" she said much too breathily.  

"Thanks," he said without even sparing the poor girl a glance, and slid the cup over to Clorinde.  "That's for you, dar— Miss, I'm sure you'll like it."

The waitress quickly shot her a glare. "Oh,  I can get you another cup," she said and hurried off before he could respond.

Clorinde sighed and accepted the cup with a quiet, thank you. He was certainly right, the tea was good. It was made with a perfect blend of milk and sugar.

Clorinde felt embarrassed for the girl. Surely he knew she was trying to get his attention. She was pretty, and had similar features to the other women in the tea shop from earlier in the week.  Yes her hair was on the redder side, but she fit the bill in every other way, thin and slight in frame, blue eyes,  and she seemed to have that bubbly attitude that the others had… Were his preferences that specific that haircolor put him off?

The waitress ran back over with the second cup, which he accepted in a similar fashion, without looking her way.  The woman left with a dejected look on her face,  but would repeatedly come over to ask if everything was okay. The fact that she started to hover, and he still didn't fully acknowledge her made the whole thing painful to watch.  

It reminded Clorinde of when male birds put on performances for potential mates, and the female almost always looked uninterested, but in this case it was the woman putting on the performance.  

Clorinde would have told her to leave him be by now,  but it wasn't really her place, and she figured if he was really bothered by it then he would have said something. Maybe he liked the… aggressive attention? 

Though at the same time,  she did notice he stopped attempting conversation with her because every time he tried before,  the waitress would manifest at their table or to one nearby.  

The grandfather clock in the back of the room struck the hour and he stood up quickly and gathered all of his paperwork. "We should get going, come on,  I'll walk you home, it's getting late," he said as he dropped a small bag of mora on the table.  

He offered her his arm and she took it for propriety's sake. She wasn't prepared though for how swiftly he swept her out of the building. She actually felt a bit of wind when he tugged her around a corner.

"Oh you're leaving?  Please Come again!" The waitress called after them. 

"I'll consider it," he called back just as the door shut behind them.

Once they were outside he sighed heavily.  "I apologize, It appeared as if Miss Abbey was afflicted with something, she's typically not so…"

Desperate?  "Attentive?" Clorinde offered lightly. 

He chuckled and nodded.  "Yes, we'll go with that."

He let her arm go and motioned down the street.  "Lead the way, Miss."

Clorinde led him down the street to where her house was. She was lucky enough to live in a nicer neighborhood,  and she was proud to say she had her own hard work to thank for it.  When she decided to become a duelist, she left her family fortune behind and worked a lot of overtime to end up where she was now.

"Here we are, " she said once they got to her front steps.

"Thank you again for stopping by, despite today's… mishaps, I hope you at least enjoyed the tea." Wriothesley said. He politely stayed at the bottom of her steps as she fumbled with her house keys.

"It was good enough,  though I can't imagine frequenting place myself," she said dryly. 

He scratched the back of his head and cleared his throat.  "Speaking of,  I was thinking, maybe we could meet up again in a few days?"  

Clorinde unlocked her door and turned to face him. The hopeful look on his face was absolutely charming.  It made her want to agree right away, but she stopped herself because she knew it probably wouldn't be a good idea.

"Well, that depends, your grace, is this for business purposes?" She asked.

He unhooked his cuffs from his belt and absently started to twirl them.  "Well,  to be honest, no, however,  I think it would be nice if we had time to talk. I'm sure there's a lot you'd like to ask me about… I know there's a lot I want to tell you, and we just don't have the time to have a proper conversation during working hours," he grimaced.  "Or in today's case… at all…" 

"Hm, you're right, there's a lot I want to tell you too…" she sighed. "We could talk now if you'd like, " even though it was late.  It seemed like a good idea,  she could invite him in… 

He shook his head.  "As much as I'd love to,  I need to get back to the Fortress,  I've already been gone for four days.  That's enough time unfortunately for some of my least favorite idiots to get ideas… besides, I don't want our conversation to feel rushed… and there are some things I wish to say that will take time to properly explain.."

She nodded. "I understand," she tapped her nails along the railing of her mini porch while she thought. She had free time coming up.  It might work out.  "If nothing comes up,  I'm free next weekend. We could grab lunch and go for a walk while we talk?"

"That's perfect,  I'll make it work! " he grinned and gave her a short bow. "Have a good night, Miss Clorinde.  I look forward to our next meeting." 

She couldn't help but smile at his farewell.  He definitely knew how to turn up the charm.  Perhaps that was why he was so popular with the ladies. Just the thought made her face fall and she retreated into her house. 

She shouldn't be feeling this way.  Anything that happened between them was very long ago. She shouldn't let past events warp her present expectations… Still, weren't some promises meant to stand the test of time?

Chapter Text

"Your Grace? Why are you up so late again?" 

Wriothesley looked up from his report to find little Miss Sigewinne standing there with her hands on her hips.  

"What did I say about overworking?" She huffed and pulled out a small journal from her bag. "If you do this again I'm going to have to make you something special for lunch."

Just the mention of her cooking made his stomach hurt. "Oh, there's no need, Sigewinne… I'm just trying to finish my work early, because I have something important planned this evening." 

"Oh,  really?  Does it have to do with the duel?"

"Hm? No," he set the document in his hand aside and picked up another.  "Though now you've piqued my interest,  what duel are you talking about? " He couldn't remember anything being scheduled in the Pankration ring. Did he forget something? 

"Well, I was visiting my friends in the Palais Mermonia yesterday, and Agatha told me that the Champion Duelist,  Clorinde is set to fight a man accused of murder today."

"What?" He dropped the paper on his desk. "Who is it?"

"Monsieur Callas Caspar, of the Spina de Rosula,  Agatha said he specifically requested to fight Clorinde.

No one of such high standing requested a duel over a trial in decades. It was typically common folk or ignorant nobles that requested duels. 

Callas was accused of murder?? And he asked for a duel instead of a trial? Why would he ask to duel Clorinde of all people? 

It was a death wish. 

He stood so fast he would have flipped the table if it wasn't made of metal.  He'd just spoken to the man a few days ago for business!  He thought something was strange with his demeanor, but he never would have expected this to happen. 

"I'm sorry Miss Sigewinne,  I have to leave earlier than I thought,  please hold down the fort while I'm away," he said as he pulled his coat off the hook on the wall. 

"Oh! Okay. Be careful, Your Grace,  be sure to go to sleep early tonight!" She said. 

He nodded while he ushered her out of the office. "Sure, sure, don't worry," he gave her a light pat on the head and rushed towards the surface elevator. 

He asked for Clorinde?! Why would he do that? Wriothesley thought while he hurried towards the Palais Mermonia. Callas was her best friend's father! Wouldn't Neuvillette see that as some kind conflict of interest? 

Clorinde was also a professional, and their best duelist, in that regard, there was no reason to doubt her ability to carry it through…. 

.

Thanks to his title,  he was able to get a last minute accommodation for the duel. Unfortunately, he couldn't use it to sway the gardes into letting him see her before the match.  No outside interferences allowed once the duelists have been cleared for battle.  Was repeated to him one to many times.  It frustrated him,  but he couldn't complain too much,  because he could hear Callas's daughter desperately fighting with the gardes to let her see her father. Her cries were near hysterical. 

He left before more guards showed up.  

Not wanting to just sit and wait,  he stood off to the side and started to pace. 

These duels have historically been battles to the death unless the accused forfeited . If they did so, they were automatically assumed guilty, and taken to Meropide. The champion duelist in question was to kill or be killed, and were not supposed to surrender. These terms were always announced before the fight, for audiences sake. 

On rare occasions,  duelists that lost retired with severe injuries for life, but if they lost too quickly, they were dishonorably discharged. 

Clorinde was the best duelist they've had in decades. She was strong, fast, and resourceful.  The odds that she'd win were high from the get go, he could even hear the murmurings of people placing bets on the winner.  It aggravated him,  but he didn't comment.  It was just something people did.  Though he wasn't entirely sure if it was legal in the overworld,  he didn't have the capacity to care right now. 

She wouldn't surrender, and he was too worried about the possibility of her losing the fight… 

Could he really just stand there and watch her die? If things turned south for her… if he did something,  if he interfered, that was an extreme violation.  He'd become a criminal again. 

Maybe he could convince her to just leave Fontaine behind like he wanted to do as a teenager.  But that would mean potentially forsaking the whole of Fontaine for one soul… The ark that he was building still had a long way to go,  and if he left now,  construction might break down. They'd run into funding issues, among other things.  Finding someone who wasn't corrupt to take over the project that fit the proper criteria would also be a disaster.  

He stopped in his tracks and glanced out across the crowd with a grimace. There was also the gate… 

I'm really going to have to let her go if it comes to that… 

Just thinking that made him nauseous.  He had too many ties keeping him in Fontaine for one reason or another.  If he left things would crumble so fast.  All for people he didn't know… thousands… 

But he didn't think his spirit would stay intact if she lost… 

A bell chimed and Monsieur Neuvillette announced the purpose of the duel, then each fighter. Callas de Rosula,  accused of murder… the crowd was filled with murmurs, boos, and shouts of protest. 

But the only thing Wriothesley could focus on was Clorinde. She stood so still in her place,  sword in hand,  her face set in a cold stoic expression. 

She looked regal… 

He knew she must be drowning in turmoil. The Clorinde he knew had a sensitive heart. She was caring to a fault, and was insanely loyal. 

Navia's screams of protest could be heard over the commotion in the crowd until Monsieur Neuvillette demanded that everyone be silent. 

And then it was silent, like the grave. 

As per tradition, the fighters were to approach one another, bow in respect and return to their sides to begin.  Wriothesley noticed Callas said something to Clorinde that made her lips turn down into a frown that etched itself into her face.  

Clorinde was first to draw blood, a clean cut across the man's chest.  The crowd gasped, and Navia's protests turned into screams.  

Many in defense of Callas roared in anger,  claiming he was throwing the match.  But most of those complaints ceased when his blade tore a clean trench into Clorinde's thigh.  

The blood instantly pooled on the ground,  staining it bright red. Clorinde's own expression was a mix of shock and pain, though it only lasted a few moments before her statuesque mask returned. 

Each clash of metal only rang through the air louder, each swing was done with purpose, and strength. At first it seemed Callas could come out on top, but Clorinde was faster, and more experienced, and that was soon incredibly obvious.  

When Callas fell,  it was in a pool of his own blood.   But he stood up again,  only to fall again, and again, and again. His shirt was in tatters, stained an awful red, and some of his worst injuries exposed the muscle beneath his skin. It was gruesome.  

Clorinde's blouse was long since stained red, and was nearly as worse off as Callas, but she didn't outwardly show signs of weakness aside from her heavy breathing. But that didn't stop whisperings doubting her humanity. 

If Wriothesley wasn't already trying to bend the metal railing in front of him he probably would have had his hands around the necks of the two idiots behind him that started the rumor… thankfully a well placed glare shut them both up. 

When Callas fell again, he tried to get back up, but this time, he couldn't make it to his feet, and he fell back down in a pool of not just his blood, but rain too. 

Navia's broken scream was followed by a roar of thunder. "MURDERER!" 

Clorinde looked to where her friend was, being restrained by some guards, and slowly looked away. 

Wriothesley saw her lip tremble, and his heart broke for her.

The guards quickly led Clorinde away accompanied by a medical professional.  Another group moved over to where Callas lay, and covered him with a sheet.

Wriothesley quickly left the area in search of Clorinde. She could still succumb to her injuries, even though she was being looked after now, things could still go array.  He needed to see her. 

Unfortunately,  he wasn't permitted anywhere close due to security reasons, and Clorinde's own personal request. He stood outside of the Palais Mermonia hoping to catch her, but he had to leave once a protest started to form. 

He had no luck at her townhouse either. He stopped by a few hours later, but she didn't answer the door.  He could see a light on though, so he knocked a bit harder on the door.  

"Clorinde, answer the door,  it's me,  Wriothesley…" he said as he knocked. He gave it fifteen minutes, but she never opened up.  

He tried again the next day,  and brought with him some tea to offer her. He knocked once again,  but she didn't answer it.  Briefly he wondered if she wasn't actually home,  but he'd already checked the Palais Mermonia, and a guard let him know that she'd been given two weeks off. 

She had to be home. Where else would she go? 

"Clorinde,  if you don't open the door,  I'm going to break in," he threatened. 

He gave it a few more moments,  but when it became clear that she wasn't going to open up,  he grabbed the door handle and started to forcefully turn it against the latch. 

He felt it creak and continued to turn it further.  "Last chance, Clorinde," he said. A few moments later the latch shattered, and he opened up and walked in. 

The only light on looked to be a small lamp in the living area, and he walked over quickly only to freeze in the doorway.

She was sitting in the middle of her couch, still in her blood stained uniform, which was now dried and clung to her skin. Her bandages were in obvious need of changing, as they were dried and caked in blood. Her hat was tilted down to cover her face from view.

Seeing her in such a state hurt.  How long has she been sitting there?  Was anyone going to check on her?  Has she moved at all since getting home?

"Clorinde?" He called out, but she didn't respond. 

He set the box of tea in his hand on the counter and hung his coat in the hall before moving over to kneel in front of her.  

"Clorinde? Are you awake?" He asked, voice low, so as not to startle her. When she didn't respond he lifted her hat only to find her eyes open, but she looked listless. 

"You should have left me alone," she mumbled without even focusing her eyes on him.  

Wriothesley frowned and pulled her hat all the way off. Her hair was still sticking to her face,  some strands crusted with blood.  

"I'm going to draw you a bath," he said, "but you're coming with," he said and grabbed her arm.  He wasn't going to leave her now. Even for a moment. 

"Leave me alone," she said, barely audible.

"If you don't get up yourself,  I'm going to pick you up," he said. 

She didn't move,  so he hooked his arm under her knees and lifted her up. She didn't even fight him,  that concerned him even more. He hated the blank look in her eyes. He could see her eyes were bloodshot, and the skin beneath was puffy and red. But there wasn't a tear in sight. 

He carried her through the house until he found her bathroom.  He set her down on a stool and started to fill up her tub with warm water. 

While it was filling up he peeled her soiled shirt away, but didn't remove anything else to preserve her dignity. 

"Clorinde you really need to snap out of it,  I need you to clean up,  okay?" he said as he inspected her ruined bandages. 

They were much too dry to sensibly pull off, so he poured some water on them until they softened before carefully removing each bandage. 

The wounds started to bleed again so he quickly searched her cabinets for medical supplies. Luckily he found some gauze and he replaced each bandage.

"Clorinde, sweetheart,  please say something,  I need you to look at me," he asked, voice soft and pleading as he gently rubbed her knee.

She finally blinked and looked at him and he sighed in relief. "Your Grace?" She mumbled through the dryness of her throat. 

"Yes, I'm here, are you hungry?  I can get you something to eat while you wash up," he offered.

She glanced at the tub then back at his face and shook her head slowly. "I'm not hungry." 

He sighed and squeezed her knees before standing up and placing his hand on her head. "Okay, I'll make you some tea at least, get cleaned up okay?" He said and left the room to give her privacy.  He shut the door behind him but stayed outside of it until he heard her get in the tub. 

He peeked around until he found her room and quickly searched through her clothes for something appropriate for her to wear. The first thing he found was a large purple nightgown so he grabbed that and hung it on the back of her bathroom door.

"I got you a change of clothes, love,  it's on the door," he said and quickly moved to her kitchen to start the tea. 

The house itself was decently put together but it was also obvious she didn't use it much as a living space as a layer of dust covered most things in the kitchen. He wiped everything down quickly while the tea was brewing, and even decided to make some toast for her just in case she changed her mind. All she had were mugs, a crime, so he made due and poured the tea in one of those. 

He heard movement behind him and turned to find her standing in the doorway wearing the nightgown he'd grabbed from her wardrobe. 

It was floor-length and had long sleeves with a sweetheart neckline, it was just dark enough and loose enough to give her proper coverage. Her hair was loose and dripping water all over the floor, but she still looked elegant, and he probably would have admired her more if he wasn't so concerned about her well-being.

"Feeling any better?" He asked hopefully.

Her eyes drifted to the tea in his hand, and she nodded slowly.  "I'm alright now,  you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

He scoffed.  "I'm not going anywhere until I feel like you're alright, " he ushered her over to sit on her other couch and pushed the mug in her hands.  "Drink up, I want you to finish the whole thing."

He quickly grabbed a fresh towel from her bathroom and the plate of bread and set it infront of her.  

"Try to eat that too, you need something in your system, I know you haven't eaten,  so don't even try to tell me otherwise," he said and moved behind her to dry her hair.

"You don't have to do this," she mumbled. 

"I know," he said while he carefully untangled her hair by hand.

She sighed softly and took a sip of the tea. Once he  finished with her hair he sat beside her, and sighed in relief when he noticed that she had finished the tea and the bread. 

"Thank you," she mumbled after a few minutes of silence. She looked up at him and smiled slightly.  "I would have never guessed you'd be such a mother-hen, Your Grace."

He barked out a laugh,  thrown off by her comment. "Ha, only for you, sweetheart." 

Her smile widened and she sighed heavily before standing up. "Now that I think about it, I am a little hungry," she said. "I can make us some soup… I think," she padded over to the kitchen and opened up her cupboards.  "Hm, it will be a rather light soup, but I have enough spice to make it taste good enough."

He followed her and leaned against one of her counters. "I'm sure I could handle it, it'll probably be best if you rest."

She shook her head,  "I need to do this," she mumbled quietly. 

He sighed but didn't argue over it.  He knew what she meant.  She needed to occupy herself with something, busy her mind. Talking about what happened probably wouldn't be the best thing right now. He's been there before, and has unfortunately gotten lost down some dark pathways.

The least he could do was help keep her facing the light.  

"Well,  just make sure not to burn it," he playfully teased. "Then we'll be out of luck because your kitchen is a ghost town."

She laughed quietly and looked up at him with the softest smile.  It made her eyes shine, and it reminded him of the starry sky. 

"I know,  I'm such a bad hostess, serving peasant food to the Duke of Meropide, gosh my mother would be mortified," she said while she washed whatever vegetables she found in her cabinets.  Which looked like a few tomatoes,  a potato and a red pepper.  

"I left him outside," he mumbled, while trying to resist the urge to reach out to her.  "I'm just… an old friend."

She smiled again and bit her lip.  "Even more of a transgression, I've got to make sure I'm hospitable to my friends because…" she trailed off and her hands started to shake. The knife clattered against the cutting board, but she didn't let it go. "Because…"

"Clorinde? Are you okay?" Alarmed, he moved over to her and tried to take it from her,  but she didn't let him.  Instead of fighting with the knife he threw caution to the wind and hugged her from behind. 

She dropped the knife as soon as he pulled her back against his chest,  and a broken sob left her lips. "B-Because I haven't got anyone else left…" 

Wriothesley tightened his hold on her, careful not to put stress on her injuries. "Shh, it's going to be okay love,  You've got everyone in the garde still,  and you've got me,  I'll be here as long as you want me to be, " he whispered into her hair. 

She felt smaller in his arms than he thought she'd be,  but that only made him want to hold her more.  He wanted to protect her, and he felt terrible that he couldn't do anything to help.  

Clorinde wiped her face and leaned her head back against his shoulder to look at him. "Thank you, Wriothesley, " she smiled wryly. "That means a lot."

Heat crept into his cheeks and he bit the inside of his cheek. He really liked the way she was leaning against him, she was so soft in his arms, and he was suddenly hyper aware of how close she was, of how close her face was to his. If he leaned down just a bit… he could kiss her.

Gods he wanted to…

He forced himself to look away and carefully let her go.  No matter how much he wanted to, it wouldn't be appropriate. 

"Alright, break time is over," he said and set the small pot next to her. "We don't want the tomatoes to dry out."

She rolled her eyes and picked up the knife again to resume cutting the vegetables. "Of course, I nearly forgot that I only have a few seconds to work with each one before they turn stale."

He watched her carefully,  just to make sure she remained steady.  "Mh, well now you know, " he mumbled absently.  

She put the soup together quickly and crouched down to rummage through a cabinet.  "We can have some of this while we wait, " she said and set a bottle of wine on the counter.  She grabbed two mismatched glasses and popped the cork. "It's red."

He frowned and grabbed the bottle. "Clorinde,  I don't think that's a good idea." 

She frowned and tugged it out of his hand.  "Don't," she took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at him.  "I need this, okay,  don't try to protect me from anything, I can take care of myself. " 

His frown deepened. "Clorinde—" 

She shoved a glass in his hand, a frown painted on her face.  "You can join me if you'd like,  or don't,  you're not going to coddle me in my own home."

He felt a bit slighted. He wasn't trying to coddle her.  He was just worried about her.  The way he found her was still fresh in his mind.  Her cold, blank eyes reminded him too much of the dead… 

"At least wait until after you eat," he mumbled.  

She sighed and set her glass down.  "Fine," she relented.  She left the room briefly and returned with a hair brush.  She leaned against the counter and brushed out her hair while the soup cooked. 

"How did you get in here anyway?" She asked after a moment of silence passed. 

He smiled sheepishly.  "I broke your lock…" 

"Ah,  so property damage, and breaking and entering." 

He glanced at her face to gauge her reaction.  She was smirking. So she wasn't really upset. He relaxed and offered her a shrug. "I'll fix it,  sweetheart,  good as new, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," she said and set a small bowl of soup in front of him.  "I hope you like it."

"It smells great," he said and picked up the spoon to try it. "It tastes good too," he added. It did. Granted it was a bit watery, but it was good enough, and it reminded him a lot of his childhood. For better or worse. The soup he had back then was often just salty water and starch anyway. He's never complained about food. 

"You're too polite," she said over her own bowl. 

"I'm honest." 

As soon as Clorinde finished, she grabbed her glass and downed the contents. He frowned at her, and tried to say something, but she stopped him.  

"Nuh-uh, can't say anything now," she said as she waved her finger in his face. 

She grabbed the bottle and her glass and moved back to her living room. 

Wriothesley sighed and followed after her. She sat on her couch and pat the space next to her. 

"Sit with me, we can play cards, if you'd like."

He nodded and sat with her. She set a throw pillow down between them and set the cards on it face down.  

"We'll start with something simple," she said and leaned over to pour herself another glass. "Just match the pairs," she downed the glass just as quickly as the last. 

"Ah, maybe you should slow down a bit,  sweetheart,  I don't—"

She frowned at him and motioned to the cards. "Match the pairs, Your Grace." 

He sighed and picked two cards,  but they weren't matches.  

Clorinde took her turn next,  but also didn't get a match.  They continued like this for some time,  and by the time half the cards were collected,  she'd gone through another  glass. 

For his part, he'd only gotten through two, but he wasn't trying to get drunk. 

She leaned over and poured the rest of the bottle in his glass. "There ya go," she mumbled and stood up and moved back to the kitchen.  She returned with another bottle, and her glass already full.  

They played four games, and they won two for two. 

"One more, we do a tie breaker," Clorinde said while she set the cards out again, well, tried to. She couldn't steady her hands enough to set them up right, and kept knocking them down.  

She sighed in frustration and punched the couch. "Ugh, I can't believe this," she grumbled.

Wriothesley sighed and wrestled the cards out of her grip. "Here, I'll do it." 

She mumbled some incoherent complaints under her breath but didn't stop him.  He set the cards out and sat back against the couch.

"Okay, you can go first," he said. 

Clorinde yawned and rubbed her eyes before picking a card at random. It was a black ace of hearts.  

"Oh,  look,  it's just like me," she said and held the card over her heart. "A black heart."

That immediately caught his attention.  "Why?"

"Because,  Wriothesley,  I'm a heartless bitch, pretty obvious," she said as casually as if she was talking about the weather. 

"What? Would you say that? Clorinde,  don't be ridiculous, you're not—"

She pressed her fingers against his lips and shushed him loudly. "Shhh! Yes,  yes I… am, I'm dead inside, why else would I kill my friend's father?  Huh?  For nooo reason! " 

He should have known this would come up eventually,  he just wished it wasn't while he was buzzed. "Clorinde, you were only doing your job, it's not—"

"But why?!" She yelled suddenly. "Why would I do that!?"

Wriothesley frowned and glanced at the half empty cup in his hand.  That was number three right?  He didn't remember finishing more,  but there was an extra bottle on the ground he didn't remember her getting,  and one currently in her hand… 

"You're an honorable person," he reasoned.  "You know these duels are part of tradition… no one forced him to choose the path he did."

She shook her head and buried her face in her hands, dropping the bottle in her lap.  "I don't understand it!  Why would he make me do that!? He was a smart,  kind man,  he'd never kill someone!" She started to cry suddenly,  and each cry was deep and shook her body. 

Wriothesley immediately started to fret over her. "Hey,  Clo, don't cry… at least not like that,  it's going to be okay—"

"It's not!" She yelled and roughly wiped her face on her sleeve. "Do you know what he said to me?  He asked me to take care of Navia! Why?! Didn't he know she would hate me? How can I protect her when all she wants to do is spit in my face?!"

"Callas knew he could count on you... I don't know why he put such a burden on you,  but maybe he believed his daughter would come around and  understand..."

"What is there to understand?  That he threw his life away!? That I'm not a real friend!?" She wiped her face again and held in her next sob. "Forget it, I-I don't want to talk about this anymore," she grumbled and grabbed another card. There was no match and she turned it back around. 

He sighed and bit his lip in contemplation. He could try and take the bottle from her now, but her outburst told him that she was probably too inebriated to understand that he was trying to help her… 

"If I win you have to put that bottle down," he said as he found another pair of cards.

She gave him a pout but nodded in agreement.  "Fine, but I'm not losing."

She did end up losing,  because she kept picking the same few cards over and over again,  because she forgot which ones she picked beforehand. 

"Looks like I won," he announced and reached for the bottle.  

"That doesn't count!" Clorinde grumbled as she took another swig from it,  her glass long forgotten on the coffee table. "Ugh, I knew you were a cheater,  but with cards too?"

Wriothesley immediately frowned as her words repeated themselves in his head.  Cheater? He stole the bottle from her and held it out of her reach. 

"What are you… talking 'bout?" He asked, confused. 

Clorinde scowled and reached over to steal the bottle back,  but he didn't let her take it this time.  "You—" She started but didn't finish.  "Give that to me! "

"No."

"And you're selfish!' She said through gritted teeth and punched his knee. She tried to grab the bottle again, but he kept it out of her reach. 

"Tell me what you meant first, tell me, how am I a cheater?" He demanded. 

She scowled again, and motioned to him dramatically.  "What do you mean? Just look at you!" She sat back against the couch and a sudden sob shook through her.  "You idiot…am I not pretty enough? Why would you do this to me?"

Her sobs escalated suddenly and she covered her face with her hands.  Wriothesley sat up and grabbed her wrists to pull them away from her face,  but she fought him.  But even in his own unstable state, he could still pin  her to the couch in seconds.  

"Clorinde,  talk to me," he growled in frustration.  

She continued to struggle in vain, "I-I… I hate you,  let me go!" She gasped between sobs. "Gods why?"

He let go of one of her wrists to grab her face and she immediately slapped him. It was so hard that it momentarily stunned him, it left his body with a painful sting as if he got zapped. 

He stared at her in shock while his mind tried to catch up with what just happened. Her own eyes were wide, and her mouth hung open in a silent gasp.

"Uh… ouch," he mumbled belatedly. 

She burst into tears. "I'm sorry!  I didn't mean it!  I'm so sorry!"

"Clorinde Hush!" He grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him.  "What—" damn he could barely remember why she was so upset.  "Tell me how I can fix it, please… whatever it is… I wanna fix it."

She finally stopped struggling and looked up at him in silence while fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't say anything,  but she didn't stop crying either. 

He couldn't stand to watch her cry any longer and leaned down to wrap her in a hug. He pulled her in close so her face was pressed into his neck, and he squeezed her as hard as he could. 

Hearing her soft whimpers were starting to get to him. 

"Clo… please tell me what's wrong," he begged her and kissed the top of her head. "I'll go crazy wondering…" his own eyes were starting to blur, but no matter how hard he fought against it, hearing her soft cries, and feeling the way her body shook  only made it worse. "Please…" he added as the dam finally cracked and his own tears soaked into her hair. 

"You… you were supposed to… We were going to build a cottage together…" she finally whispered between shaky breaths.

As soon as she said that, memories ripped through his mind. He'd asked her to marry him.  He promised her a life together in a different land, because he knew her parents would never allow it, and he wanted so much to run away from his miserable existence. They even marked a few places on the map that they'd like to visit. The city of Freedom was the highest on their list for potential spots. It screamed of opportunities for new beginnings… 

"I-I said yes…" she whispered into his neck. "I said yes…" 

She had. And he was over the moon in excitement.  He couldn't believe she would see him as worthy of anything, but she did. She said yes without hesitation.  She even gave him a kiss. A quick and simple thing, but damn did it keep him going through some of his hardest days. 

"But you threw me away!" She sobbed suddenly and pushed against him. "I waited for you too! Like an idiot! Why didn't you—Why… I-I— you abandoned me! " she growled and pushed him again, and this time he let her. 

She shoved him back hard, and he fell back against the opposite arm chair of her couch.

"I hate you, " she said again, much quieter,  but this time directly to his face, and with way more vitriol.

He literally winced. That hurt.  It hurt so much that he didn't know the words to explain the pain in his chest. It reminded him of a stab wound, but somehow worse because he couldn't find his voice.  

"You don't mean that…" he mumbled while he tried to hold back the new wave of tears in his eyes.  

"Oh I do,  but I might hate myself more,  I can't believe I actually loved you at one point," she spat. "I wasted my youth longing after an idiot boy that didn't love me back!"

That one hurt more. 

"Clorinde…" he bit his lip and hesitantly reached for her hand but she retreated further away from him.

"Don't touch me anymore!" She snapped and hit him with the pillow that had the cards on it. He shielded himself from the blow, and the cards went flying all over the room like leaves in a storm. 

"That's not true, " he whispered through the fire engulfing his throat. "I did love you, gods I still do… I—"

"Don't lie to me, " she said and stood up, her feet unsteady.  "I'm not stupid, not anymore, I've heard the rumors, Wriothesley, I've seen the hair on your coat,  you like to fuck skinny little blondes!"

He never thought he'd be embarrassed by someone bringing up his affairs. But sitting here with a fresh hole in his heart, and alcohol in his blood exposed him to all kinds of new onslaughts. He was never proud of his late night excursions,  but damn did he wither in shame knowing that she knew about them. 

The worst part was,  he didn't know what to fucking say! She wouldn't believe him if he told her that he actually didn't enjoy it. That he actually felt miserable afterward. But it was the high he was chasing at the moment.

It was all he could do to keep the absolute misery at bay that crushed him when he found out he was too late…  The shadow that haunted him at all times of the day.  A few times he was tempted to try the booze and hard drugs that circulated through the prison, but he didn't want to stain the new name he literally made for himself. At least anymore than it already was. So he did his best to crack down on it,  but some always snuck in, and the temptation was always there. 

Would she think he was pathetic if he admitted that he couldn't look at a woman with dark hair without his mind forcing him to see her face?

Gods he was so fucking hopeless… 

"I don't know what you want me to say,  Clorinde… it's been a little over fifteen years… I didn't think you still— you were taken, I—"

"Oh,  so it doesn't matter since it was so long ago? Well forgive me for hoping, forgive me for hoping you'd come back. I thought you left without me! I thought you died!" 

His eyes widened and he sat up. Wait… she didn't know?

She motioned to her front door. "Get out Wriothesley, and don't contact me again!"

"Wait, wait, " his head was hurting so much at this point,  but he couldn't stop thinking about what she said.  "Clorinde, I was in the fortress for the past fifteen years," he whispered. "The first ten I was a prisoner."

Her eyes widened and she turned back to him.  "W-What?"

"The incident at the orphanage?  That was me,  I killed them…"

"...What?" 

"The trial only lasted an hour because I admit guilt at the start, it was mainly just official nonsense …I was in a cell by sun down," he explained quickly. 

His heart was in his throat. If he could somehow fix this,  maybe smooth things out between them,  damn he'd never ask for anything ever again.

"Since I had no official documents to identify me,  I made up my new one on the spot," he continued.  "There weren't any illustrations of my face made public  either since the court still considered me a minor…"

Realization flitted across her face. "That's why I couldn't find you…" she whispered. "All the newspapers only used your new name…but why? "

He bit his lip and stood up. He reached for her hands again, and he sighed in relief when she let him grab her. "Because I think I wanted to die that night… because they gave me that name,  and I didn't want anything to do with them anymore… because at the time, maybe I wanted you to think I was dead. I don't know… I don't know, " he whispered and hesitantly pulled her into his arms. "Because I'm an idiot…" he mumbled into her hair. "I'm sorry Clo… I'm so sorry…" 

"I-I knew I should have gone with you, I regretted that night all this time! " She broke down into sobs again, and clung tight to his vest. "I'm so sorry, mon ciel…"

Hearing her call him that again after so, so long made him gasp like a fool. 

A memory flashed behind his eyes of her in a pretty day dress, wearing a crown of flowers that he'd made. Her smile, lovely and infectious as she laid her head in his lap. Tell me about your day, mon ciel… did you like the sweets I sent you? 

He'd nodded and given her a playful poke on the nose.  Why do you always call me such things? 

She'd shaken her head and taken her fan from her sleeve to fan at his face.

I call you such things because you are important to me like the sky is important to the earth, because that is how I let you know that I love you… 

Those memories always drove a stake in his heart… 

"It's not your fault, sweetheart, please don't blame yourself for my stupidity, " he whispered as he sat down on her couch. He brought her with him, and she cuddled close to him. He held her tight while she cried, and rubbed her back gently to try and comfort her. Even though he tried his best to fight it, his own tears kept blurring his vision, so he just hid his face in her hair . 

He wasn't sure how long she cried,  but he kept his arms around her until she calmed. When the last sob wracked her body,  she sank against him,  heavy with sleep. He figured he should move her to her bed,  but just as he was thinking that he lost his own fight with consciousness. 

.

.

A pleasant smell brought him back to his senses, and he opened his eyes slowly only to be blinded by… sunlight? 

Alarmed he sat up quickly, and a purple blanket fell off him and onto the floor. As soon as he looked at it he remembered where he was, and he picked it up and set it back on the couch.  

"Clorinde? " He called out and looked around in concern. 

"I'm in the kitchen."

Wriothesley stood up quickly,  not bothering to stretch and nearly fell flat on his face after sliding across the smooth tile of her kitchen.  He looked down in confusion to find that his boots were off, and his black socks were the only thing covering his feet. 

"Those boots of yours are something,  they were difficult to take off, " Clorinde said as she walked over with a plate of food. 

Wriothesley rubbed his eyes clear and looked at her again.  She was already dressed for work,  her clothes were neatly pressed and not a hair was out of place.  

"Uh… good morning?" He said awkwardly. 

"Good morning, " she smiled and set the plate on the counter in front of him.  Beside it,  she put down a glass of water that had a white tint. "Medicine for your headache," she said. 

"Thank you, " he said and chugged the glass in one go.

Clorinde shook her head and sighed. "It probably would have been better if you drank it slower."

He shrugged and grinned sheepishly.  "Oops?"

She smiled softly,  though quickly looked away.  "I have to go to work soon."

"I thought you had time off," he said,  confused. 

"I want to go," she sighed.  "But I wanted to talk to you first," she said as she stood across from him.

He sat down in the small chair and looked up at her curiously while he dug into the food she made.  A hearty serving of scrambled eggs and two fresh croissants.  

"First, I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night, " she sighed and set a cup of coffee next to him. "I'm ashamed of how I spoke to you, even though I don't remember everything word for word,  I remember enough."

"Oh,  it's okay,  I know you were just—"

She shook her head and held her hand up.  "No. It's not okay,  you didn't deserve that."

"Clorinde,  I understand that you were grieving,  and not clear of mind, we both—"

She held her hand up again and placed it on his for just a second before retreating back across the counter.  "Wriothesley, please,  let me finish first," she motioned to the food in front of him.  "Eat up, I know it's simple,  but I… I hope it's enough, " she said gently.

"Of course, it's more than enough," he really didn't care if she made him nothing.  He was just happy that she seemed to be doing better. 

She offered him another smile and cleared her throat.  "I also wanted to apologize for commenting on your… personal affairs," she grimaced and picked at a lint on her glove. "I've had my fair share of… that,  so again I  apologize, it was none of my business."

Wriothesley remained silent. He disagreed with her. She had every right to know, and he'd tell her if she asked. He also really wanted to ask her more about her own affairs, were there more than just the one her parents told him about? But he'd agreed to let her finish,  so he bit his tongue.

She sighed heavily and took a small box out of her pocket.  "On that note,  I believe it's only right that we make it official,  that way,  there's no more doubt,  no more guilt, no more what ifs."

His heart literally jumped into his throat.  Make it official? Wait , is she… is she asking me to—

"You should have this back," she said and pushed the box in front of him.

Huh?... Back? 

Have… what back? 

"It's only fair, I realize it technically didn't cost you anything, but I know it'll be worth quite a lot of mora, especially once it's been refined, you can give it to a proper lady of your liking."

What? 

Confused,  he reached for the box and opened it. And he immediately felt nauseous.

Sitting in the center of the tiny jewelry box, was an unrefined pearl. The very same one he found in a clam on the seabed and presented to her when he asked her to start a new life with him… when he asked her to marry him over fifteen years ago… 

"... We were young, teenagers, and things have changed. It's only right to return it, I realized I was technically the last thread that connected you to your old life,  so now, we can go our separate ways without needing to worry, now there's nothing holding us together."

He was completely speechless.  He knew they were estranged, and that the possibility to rekindle anything was low, but he did not expect her to reject him like this. It hurt more than hearing her tell him she hated him… 

"I'm grateful that you decided to reach out to me, it was really nice to see you again, and I really appreciate you telling me what happened… I don't fault you, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when I should have been… I realize that maybe things could have been different if only I'd snuck out with you that night, " she took another deep breath and stepped away from the counter.  "But what's done is done… I made up my mind already,  so don't try to change it… I don't want to have to redo my makeup," she smiled wryly and placed her hand on his arm. 

He bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to speak. "Are you sure there's nothing I could say to change your mind?" He asked in a shaky whisper. "I don't blame you for anything, it was all my own decision, We could start over… or—"

She shook her head and moved her hand off his arm.  "No, I'm sorry, this is what's best. It's been a very long time,  I'm sure you understand,  we're practically strangers at this point."

His throat started to burn.  "We don't have to be,  darling…" 

She didn't even acknowledge him.  "You're more than welcome to stay here to rest, but please leave before seven when my shift ends… I'll wash any dishes you use." 

Not even friends?

All he could really do was stare at her because he was too busy fighting back his emotions. 

They weren't really a thing anyway, but technically speaking,  she was still his fiancée… and now she was officially ending that.

Why did it affect him so brutally?  Like there hadn't been over a decade of them being apart. But it felt like that for him. The days often blurred together in the fortress, and many times, the only thing that got him out of bed was the hope of seeing her again one day… 

Was that really so shameful? 

He wanted to ask her again to give him a chance. He didn't think he was too different from the boy she knew. At least not in a bad way… He wanted to ask her to wait a few days before making such a decision.  He knew she was hurting over what happened with Callas… there was a chance she'd change her mind… right? 

" —From now on,  please don't contact me unless it is strictly business related," she said and pulled a card out of her pocket. "But if the Duke of Meropide is ever in need of the skills of a Champion duelist, you can always contact my superior," she slid a business card on the counter.  "I'm sure he will connect you with the best possible candidate for the job."¹

He couldn't hold it in any more. "Damn, Clorinde, that's cold, don't you think? Do you always go business casual when you break someone's heart?"

She frowned and crossed her arms.  "Your Grace,  this isn't the time for jokes."

Ouch… 

"Jokes?  Oh no,  I'm being serious," he stood up and snatched the jewelry box off the counter and shoved it in his pocket. "But I'm sure that doesn't really matter, huh?  I'll do you one better,  I'll leave now, I've lost my appetite anyway, so would you be a doll and tell me where my boots are? "

Her frown deepened, but she moved over to the hallway by the front door and came back with his boots in hand.  He noticed that the metal pieces looked polished, and the mud that was caking the bottom was no longer present,  but he didn't have the capacity to comment on it. 

He took them from her without a word and put them on as fast as he could. He had to get out of here. He felt sick. 

He moved over to the front door and glanced back at her from over his shoulder. "I really am sorry,  Clorinde… I know you're hurting right now,  but this is the life you chose, a Champion Duelist isn't just a title after all, you know this, but sometimes hearing someone else say it is necessary…

"I won't get in your way anymore,  though… if you find yourself in need of a moment of repose, no one will ever think to look for you in the Fortress,  you need only show your face, and the guards will guide you to a place to rest."

She shook her head.  "That's a separate issue,  but it only opened up my eyes to the fact that whatever you think is happening between us can't continue," she snapped. 

"Whatever I think? Clorinde,  don't insult me any more, why else would you keep it? It doesn't have to be like this, " he shot back. 

"It doesn't matter anymore why I kept it,  because all it represents to me now is a broken promise!"

He should have just left like he said he was going to. 

  "Well I didn't know engagements had expiration dates," he snapped back. 

"It's been fifteen years! What did you expect?!"

"I don't know,  maybe how are you? Or even better,  I fucking missed you!"  

She glared at him and clenched her hands into fists. "I did miss you! I missed you for ten years! I mourned you for five!" 

He flinched and ran his hands over his face in frustration, the stress of the situation was getting to him. He didn't want this.  He didn't want to argue with her.  

"I'm sorry,  Clorinde, I don't know the words to explain how regretful I am of all this…" he hesitantly moved over to her and gently grabbed her hand.  "We can start over, " he pleaded quietly.  "I just really want you in my life,  so maybe we—"

She ripped her hand out of his, and shoved him back.  "No, I don't want you to start caring about me again only for me to die on the job!"

It felt like she tore something out of him.  "So that is what this is about, Clorinde, believe it or not, I do still care about you, I—"

"Well, why didn't you contact me as soon as your sentence was over?!" She yelled.  "Why wait so much longer? "

He ran his hand through his hair and growled in frustration.  "I wanted to, but it's… it's complicated,  I tried, truly! I'm more than willing to tell you everything,  but not like this, I'm really sorry for yelling at you,  maybe we could talk after work today,  I-I can stay here longer if —"

She shook her head and motioned to her door. "It's fine,  it doesn't matter anymore,  please just leave."

"Clearly it does matter, so—"

"I don't love you!  I don't even know you, Wriothesley! " she snapped suddenly.  "I didn't agree to marry the Duke of Meropide!"

It was like he'd just been punched in the gut. He felt cold all of a sudden, and could really just stare at her in silence while her words seeped into his bones.

Clorinde took a deep breath and straightened her hat before pressing her hands together with a small sigh. "I did politely ask you to leave,  Your Grace, " she said quietly.

He tasted bile on his tongue. "Cutting everyone out just for doing your job will only kill you in the end," he sounded much colder than he intended,  but it was that or rip her door off the wall and throw it into the street. "I only really asked for your friendship, you know, I would have been happy with that, " he added softly. 

"Good day, Your Grace, " she said stiffly. 

"Right," he mumbled and opened her door.

He ducked on his way out,  but unfortunately, he didn't bend low enough, and the edge of her door frame scraped roughly against the top of his head.  The impact shot a lightning bolt of pain down his spine, and his vision momentarily went black. 

Even though he tried not to slam her door, it was light,  and it still sounded like he slammed it.  If he truly had though, he probably would have cracked it…

It was raining. 

Just like it had been during her duel.  It was fitting now too, because the rain soaked him through so fast it hid the tears that had made it past his guard. He blamed it on the welt on top of his head, even though he's never shed a tear over any injury before,  not even the ones that put him on death's door. He pulled his arms through his thick coat and hurried down the street, all while trying to bury the pain in his heart.

She's just hurt. She's just hurt… he kept repeating to himself, over and over. But the further he walked the more he kept wondering if she even cared how much she'd just hurt him…

Maybe his perception of her actually had been warped by all the time spent apart… 

He wandered off through the city,  not really having a destination. He was trapped in his thoughts,  replaying the night's events and their conversation over and over, and over… 

Damn he was hurt.  And he had no one to blame but himself. 

He soon found himself on the beach.  The same one where he'd proposed to her all those years ago… the box in his pocket suddenly felt like lead, and he took it out to look at it. 

He never imagined that she'd keep it for this long… She must have taken his promise as seriously as he had. 

I wasted my youth longing after an idiot boy that didn't love me back!

"I'm sorry,  Clo…" he mumbled and closed his fist over the little box.  "I really did,  I loved you so fucking much…" the rain, or his tears, he wasn't sure which anymore, and didn't care, started blurring his vision.  

I don't love you!  I don't even know you, Wriothesley! I didn't agree to marry the Duke of Meropide!

He scowled in disgust, in annoyance, frustration,  all at himself.  He squeezed the box harder and it cracked. He took a step back and threw it as hard as he could into the sea.

It flew far. He put everything he had into it, and it still flew much farther than he thought it would before it finally sank into the watery depths. 

As soon as the wretched box hit the water a sob tore its way out of his chest. He tried to suppress the ones that followed,  but he couldn't. It was like a dam shattering.  He never shed a tear the entire time he sat rotting away in prison. Not even while the blood of his so called caretakers cooled on his hands.  Not even when he finally saw the sun again for the first time in a decade.  

But last night,  a few managed to escape, and now,  It was like all of it that had built up over the years just came flowing out.

Maybe she's right… maybe it's better this way…

Chapter Text

She didn't hear from Wriothesley,  or of him for two entire years. 

And of those two years,  she didn't mind for only about two months. She spent most of that time  drowning in despair. At the start of the third month,  she constantly wondered if cutting him off completely was a mistake. She initially thought it was the best thing to do.  She couldn't bare the thought of dying and leaving him after so long apart. But now,  she couldn't help but wonder if she was too hasty. Maybe... he wouldn't even care if she died... 

But she'll never know, because she literally had no friends now,  and that slowly chipped at her soul. A few times she tried to make amends with Navia, tried to explain to her what her Father said before their dreaded duel, but she wouldn't listen, and Clorinde couldn't blame her,  so she left her alone. 

Who would want to associate with their father's murderer? 

It was the first day of the third year that she found she couldn't stop thinking about how he was doing. Would he still want to be friends with her?  Or even start over like he suggested once? 

She often argued with herself over it. She was a grown woman,  she didn't need friends!  She had a job to do… but gods was she lonely.  She felt hollow,  like she was missing a piece of herself.  She had a hole in her heart,  and she tried her best to fill it with various things. Sweets, drinks, nights out on the town,  and even extra work. Even when she went out with her co-workers,  she felt like she was just watching a play.  Like she wasn't actually part of it. Nothing worked.

Would his invitation still stand?

He'd said she could visit the Fortress if she needed to… Even if it did,  she couldn't imagine just strolling in there after two years of silence.  Especially how things ended between them… 

That morning she went straight to Monsieur Neuvillette's office.

"Ah,  good morning, Miss Clorinde, is there something I can do for you?" He asked once she approached his desk. 

She couldn't help but wonder how he knew she had a request.  She could have been in here to deliver a message. Though there was a rumor that the iudex was all knowing, and sometimes she wondered if it was true. 

"Yes,  Monsieur,  I have a request…" she didn't want to spill the beans in front of him,  but at the same time she didn't want to sound suspicious.  She had no ill intentions after all.  "I am curious to know if there have been… um any requests put in asking for the assistance of a duelist…" 

He folded his hands on his desk and watched her for a moment of silence.  "Well,  yes actually,  I remember coming across a few in the past, are you interested in taking sidework?"

She nodded. "Yes,  Sir. Though, I was hoping for something a bit challenging… is there anything fitting that criteria?"

He opened up a book and skimmed through it before nodding.  "We have one actually,  it's a member of the research institute requesting a skilled individual to collect some samples out near the failed research facility.  Since that place is still considered a hazard, we have not opened up this commission to the adventurers guild, do you want to take it?"

Clorinde tried her best not to look disappointed.  "Yes,  I'll take it, Monsieur,  thank you."

He handed her the documents related to the commission and she pretended like she was reading it.

"Monsieur, I was wondering,  do you have a backlog of old requests?" She asked hesitantly.  

"I do, was there something you were looking for? " He asked.

Clorinde cursed internally and shook her head.  "No sir,  I'm just curious as to what I have missed out on…"

He let out a short sound of amusement and walked over to a shelf behind him.  "I hope you don't intend to overwork yourself,  Miss Clorinde,  you've already requested overtime this month," he took a thin book off the shelf and presented it to her. "This is a record of all previous requests from the past year."

She took it and carefully skimmed through each page. There were more requests than she thought,  many of them had an X beside it,  signifying the request was rejected. She looked through half the book before finding what she was looking for. A single request for assistance with the affairs of the Fortress of Meropide,  requesting an individual with high skill. There was a check by it,  signifying that it was assigned to… someone. 

She bit the inside of her cheek and searched through the rest of the book. Towards the end she found one more that was also assigned to someone else. 

Why do I feel so disappointed?... 

She handed the book back to Monsieur Neuvillette. "Thank you,  Sir,  If you receive any more in the future requesting someone with higher expertise, please assign it to me,  if it doesn't clash with my normal duties of course."

He nodded, though didn't respond right away.  He observed her in silence, his sharp eyes focused on her face. "Is everything alright,  Miss Clorinde?"

She was taken aback by his concern.  "Yes, I'm doing well enough, Monsieur,  I only ask because I'm hoping to bring something new to my day to day schedule…"

"With more work?"

She nodded slowly.  "Yes, Sir, I've nothing else to do," had she said that to anyone else,  she might have laughed,  but standing in front of the Iudex's powerful gaze just made her feel pathetic.  

Work,  that's all she knew.  All she really had going on in her life right now… it was a bit sad.

"Just remembered to rest, " he said before dismissing her.  

She thanked him again and hurried off to start her shift.

There were two requests in the past year. She couldn't help but wonder what they were for,  or who was assigned to them.  The last request came in about five months ago. The chances were low,  but she put all her cards into hoping he'd send in at least one more… 

.

She did thirty commissions before a letter with a wolf seal in black wax was placed on her desk. As soon as she saw it she choked on her coffee. 

She burnt her mouth, but didn't really care. She had to know what it said. 

The Fortress of  Meropide is nearing the first quarter of its production cycle. We are requesting assistance reviewing the paperwork to make sure our records match the ones held in the Palais Mermonia.  Please send a trusted individual with copies of the necessary paperwork.  

The Duke of Meropide. 

"A paperwork mission?" She said to herself. Usually the Iudex would  send a melusine to handle such things. Why would he give this to her?

"Monsieur Neuvillette,  is concerned for your health Miss Clorinde,  he wants you to take it easy,  but doesn't want to deny your agency so he thought this assignment would be a nice change of pace," a Melusine standing at her door said.

She nearly jumped out of her skin. "Oh! Goodness you startled me," she gasped. 

The melusine, whom she now recognized as a guard named Agnes, shook her head and tsked at her.  "You aren't very alert, hm, it seems he was right to worry, oh dear,  oh dear," she walked off talking to herself about needing to send a message. 

Clorinde sighed and let her go,  she didn't want to waste time anyway, and quickly prepared to leave for the fortress.  She got ready much faster than she thought she would, but that left her with a predicament. She didn't want to seem too eager,  but at the same time she knew showing her face at all after everything would be awkward at the very least.  

Even though it was for an assignment,  she didn't want to just show up empty handed. Unsure what else to do,  she hurried to the market to purchase a small gift. She was nearly an hour into fretting over having no idea what to even get without looking too strange that she just grabbed the only thing that made sense, a variety pack of tea…

She barely paid attention to the journey down into the fortress,  she couldn't get out of her head. She's been waiting on this opportunity for a few months at this point,  and now that she's literally in the process of it,  she couldn't be more nervous.  

The guard guiding her stopped by the large door to the Duke's office and gave it a few knocks. 

"Your Grace,  the representative of the Palais Mermonia is here."

A muffled,  send them in,  could be heard through the metal door. 

Clorinde held her head as high as she could as she entered the office,  but as soon as the door shut behind her,  her courage evaporated. 

"Come on up,  I made some tea, You're more than welcome to have some, " the Duke called from up the steps. 

Clorinde took a deep breath and slowly made her way up the stairs. She clutched the heavy binder of paperwork to her chest to try and ground herself.  Each step up made her heart pound harder,  her palms felt clammy and even her footing felt unsteady. 

When she finally cleared the last step, she found she couldn't move anymore.

There sat the Duke of Meropide, the Lord Incognito of the Inky Depths with a stark white teacup in hand and a handful of documents in the other.  

He looked more intimidating than she remembered him being,  but she tried to convince herself it was just her own nervousness warping her perception.

"Come, come,  we haven't got all day, " he said without looking up. 

Embarrassed, she forced herself to approach his desk and carefully set her binder in front of him. 

"I brought the copies, Your Grace, " her voice unintentionally came out in a whisper because of how nervous she was.

"Wonderful, now would—" he looked up at her and he started choking on his tea.

Clorinde gasped and stepped away from his desk to give him space. "Are you okay?" She asked quickly. 

He held up a finger while he coughed into his arm,  and when he was finally done his eyes were a bit watery.  "C-Clorinde? What are you doing here? "

She took a deep breath and motioned to the binder again.  "You requested assistance to review the paperwork for the first quarter."

"Well,  yes,  but why are you—"

Without thinking she–unintentionally – slammed the box of tea on his desk.  "I got this for you," she said,  maybe a bit too loud. "It's um…" she didn't know what to call it,  a peace offering?  They weren't fighting… but the way their last conversation went still haunted her. 

She tried her very best to make it as easy as possible,  to leave things on a good note,  but it blew up in her face because she didn't take into account his own feelings… 

"It's a gift…" she finally said. 

He picked the box up and stared at it while his brows remained high on his head. The silence was only interrupted by the faint dings of metal and hisses of steam from the work going on somewhere in the fortress. 

She noticed he tried to speak three times,  but never managed to get a word out,  but Clorinde didn't mind. She's waited long enough in her life. She could wait for him abit longer to decide whether or not to kick her out.  

He finally let out a soft sigh and set the box to the side without opening it.  He motioned to the chair across from his desk.  "Have a seat,  Mademoiselle,  we've got a lot of work to go through." 

She nodded and took her seat. She was disappointed that he didn't open it,  but at the same time she was grateful he didn't outright reject it. She sat in silence while he went over the current document he had, and soon she was absorbed in the task at hand. 

Which turned out to be a lot harder than she thought it would be. She wasn't used to staring at such tiny print for so long,  but she dared not voice her complaints outloud.  He never deviated from discussing business with her,  but she could have sworn by the time the clock on his wall struck the fourth hour, he was way more relaxed than he'd previously been.

He stood up suddenly and slammed the book closed,  making her jump.  "Okay,  break time! " He announced.

She remained seated while he grabbed his keys off the wall. He moved over to the steps and cleared his throat.  "After you,  Mademoiselle."

"Oh, excuse me, " she mumbled and quickly got up and made her way down the stairs. 

He held his office door open for her, and she politely thanked him. She prepared herself to have the door slammed in her face,  but he walked out with her and locked it behind him before motioning for her to follow him. 

She followed behind him. She wasn't entirely sure where he was going,  but she wasn't worried.  What she was fretting over, was whether or not he was going to say something to her… 

Was he upset that she came down here?  Did he want her to leave? Was he only entertaining her in the name of work and civility? 

She hated how he didn't say a word,  but she figured that she was lucky he hadn't told her to get out yet.  She was lucky he was tolerating her at all… 

He finally led her to the cafeteria and opened the door to the kitchen and disappeared inside. Clorinde stayed back on the other side, and watched him through the window.  

How late is it?  She thought to herself while he rummaged in the cabinets.  If the cooks weren't in, then it had to be the middle of the night.  Did she really stay here that long? 

Wriothesley re-emerged with some containers and he dug in his pocket and tossed a folded stack of coupon credits on the counter. He left the kitchen and made his way back to his office.  

"I figured you'd appreciate stretching your legs," he said.

"It is nice," was all she could think to say. 

"Mhm."

Once they were back in his office he warmed up the food he'd grabbed with the same device he used to heat his tea kettle and set one of the containers on his office table.  "Have a seat,  Mademoiselle," he said and set a teacup beside the container.  

Clorinde sat down on the couch and glanced up to where he was.  He'd taken a seat at his desk, and was still reading through the paperwork while he poked at his own food. 

She bit her lip to suppress a sigh and lifted up the teacup he'd placed in front of her.  For the first time,  she noticed that every time he gave her tea,  he always gave her the same cup, a dainty porcelain with delicate purple flowers.

It really was beautiful.  It looked like an art piece.  

The tea this time was lovely,  though it was always lovely. But this time, she finally allowed herself to just enjoy it.  It was a strong black tea that had a lemony hint. She liked it,  it was relaxing. 

She was so absorbed in the pleasant aroma and the peaceful atmosphere that she didn't notice he got up from the desk. 

"Could I interest you in a bit of sugar?" He asked and held out a small container. 

She looked up in surprise and nodded quickly.  "Yes,  I'll take some."

He gave her two small sugar cubes and sat on the opposite end of the couch. 

Clorinde watched the small cubes slowly break down in the dark liquid before sinking to the bottom of her cup.  

"You haven't touched your food yet,  I heard your stomach growling before,  is it not to your liking? " He asked her suddenly. 

"Oh!" She blushed and carefully set the cup down and picked up her food container.  "I'm sorry,  I was distracted," she said.  The food smelled very good,  it even looked good.  It was a wonderful creamy pasta that made her mouth water.  She tried it and glanced over at him.  "It's good, thank you, " she said quietly. 

He nodded. "Don't mention it." 

They sat in silence while she ate,  and all the while she couldn't stop glancing over at him.  She wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he want to say something to her? Was that why he came over?  She also kept fretting over what she should say,  but no matter how she pictured starting the conversation,  it always ended in disaster. 

In the end,  he never said anything,  and she never found the courage to break the ice. 

. 

.

They soon got back to work, and she forced herself to finish the assignment. When the last paper was done he let out a dramatic sigh.

"Well,  I'm surprised we finished so fast, that only took–" he checked the clock on his desk.  "A little over a day, typically this takes me three,  so that really clears up my schedule, " he stood up and stretched before taking a pouch full of mora out from his drawer. "Here you go,  Mademoiselle, your help was much appreciated."

Clorinde took the bag with a small nod before covering her mouth to yawn. She hadn't even noticed she was down here for so long. 

"I'll take my leave then,  thank you, Your Grace, " she said and turned to leave. To her surprise,  she heard him follow behind. 

"I can call a guard to walk you back, " he offered.

She didn't want to trouble him any more.  "That won't be necessary,  but I do appreciate it, " she said.  Once she got to his door she turned around to look at him.  

He looked exhausted,  but she couldn't blame him,  they'd just pulled an all nighter after all. The whole time she never managed to say anything to him. The tension in her chest was near a breaking point.  She'd been wanting to say something this whole time, and she could never figure out what. But if she let this opportunity go, she'd never forgive herself.

"I'm sorry for troubling you today,  I'll be sure to specify in my next request to send a melusine or someone not of your standing."

That's not… 

She sighed and threw caution to the wind.  The prideful often didn't have friends anyway…  

"No, it's okay Your Grace, I wanted to come, I actually wanted to… to apologize, " she whispered around the lump in her throat. "I'm so sorry for how I treated you…" 

He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.  "Mademoiselle, you did great with the assignment,  what are you—"

"You know what I mean, " she whispered hesitantly. 

She saw his body tense and she bit her lip in concern.  He could kick her out at any moment,  so she had to get her words out fast,  but the problem was, she didn't have a plan.

"It's all water under the bridge," he said with a shrug.  "There's no need to worry about any of that, it's been a few years anyway. "

Exactly why I need to apologize…

"It's not, I… I-I…really fucking missed you…" she flushed with embarrassment when she realized she just swore.

His eyes turned into saucers,  but he didn't respond. He just kept looking at her in shock. 

She didn't intend to say it that way,  she also meant to ask him how he's been… She took her hat off and twisted it in her hands.  It was all she could do to keep her voice steady. 

"A lot," she added quietly.  "You were right,  the past few years were… rough."  It was a bit of an understatement.  At times she was in such a deep depression that she couldn't even see the light anymore. She thought at one point that she wouldn't make it another year. "I don't have anyone that—"

"Oh, I see,  I'm just your last resort, huh? Do you think I have time to cater to your whims? I'm not going to play your game anymore, Clorinde, I'm done." 

She was not prepared for the absolute chill in his voice, the cold and sharp tone of each word cut into her like jagged ice. 

"No!  That's not what I meant,  I– Wriothesley,  I never meant to—"

He shut her down quick and brutal with just the ice in his gaze before he even said a word, and when he did…  

" You can call me 'Your Grace', Mademoiselle, anything else is wildly inappropriate."

Oh … 

"If that's all then I must bid you farewell,  I'd like to take advantage of this rare free time to relax before my next project," he gestured to his door.  "So if you'd please."

Oh no, no, no,  am I really so bad at this!? 

Things weren't going how she wanted it to at all! She had to do something fast. Her grip on her hat tightened.  She might need to request a new one if she kept this up,  but she didn't care. 

The burn in her eyes grew unbearable, and she let the tears building up finally stream down her cheeks. 

She knew what she was doing, but the shame didn't hurt as much as losing him did… She didn't know what else to do or say… she was too desperate. 

"I-I really want you in my life, mon ciel…" she whispered softly. Even if you end up hating me... 

The last time she could remember calling him that felt like a lifetime ago. She was so much happier then,  and he always looked at her with the softest smile.  He was such a sweet, shy boy… Oh what she wouldn't give to return to those simpler days. 

The sharp ice in his gaze cracked and he tore his eyes away from hers to stare at the ceiling. He let out a deep sigh and ran his hand over his face.  

"What do you want me to say?" He whispered. 

Clorinde squeezed her hat tighter and cleared her throat.  She wanted him to forgive her.  To tell her that they could be friends again. She wanted to ask him if he still wanted to start over… but she felt like she didn't have the right to anymore.  

"You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to tell you the truth… and to let you know that if you ever need a commission done in the future,  you can send the requests to my office… if you want."

He sighed again and looked back at her.  His posture significantly sagged to a point where he looked as miserable as she felt.

He stepped forward and took her hat out of her hands, and shook it out. Once he straightened it he placed it carefully on her head. "You have to be careful with this,  Mademoiselle, these uniforms are expensive."

She blushed and looked away in an attempt to hide it.  "You're right, my apologies, Your Grace."

He took a handkerchief from his pocket and lifted her face by her chin. "Not much goes on down here that requires the skills of our most prominent champion duelist, " he said as he gently wiped her face.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she had to bite her cheek to stop herself from telling him she could do it herself. She was too used to doing things alone. Too used to caring for herself… 

But she wanted to know why he was doing something so intimate for her… didn't he hate her? 

"It doesn't have to be strictly of my rank… it's uh,  never a bad thing to review the basics now and then," she said. 

"I see," he murmured. He released her face and tucked the handkerchief back in his vest.  He opened up his office door and stepped outside with her.  "Come on,  I'll walk you back up," he said and made his way down the large hall.

Clorinde followed after him quietly,  but inside,  she was trying not to drown in despair.  

He didn't say anything the whole way up, but she was okay with that. The few times she stole a glance at his face he looked incredibly serious,  as if he was deep in thought, so she left him be. He actually walked with her all the way to the surface, and let out a long sigh once they emerged at the top. 

"Alright,  this is where we part," he said as he turned toward her. "If something else comes up,  I'll send it your way."

She literally gasped in shock.  "Oh! Thank you,  Your Grace," containing her excitement was difficult.  She felt like crying again,  except this time in relief.

He smiled wryly and shook his head. "People aren't typically so excited to get extra work, I suppose that's why you're the best. You don't stop until you get what you want, no matter who you have to cut through, hm?"

Her stomach dropped.  "Your Grace, I—"

"Good day, Mademoiselle," he said, and disappeared down the lift. 

Oh what am I to do?…  

.

.

One month dragged by before she got another commission from him.  As soon as she saw it her heart nearly jumped out of her chest, she had no idea what it was about yet. She was just happy that he reached out to her at all.  

She ended up working with Wriothesley's technical assistant, Jurieu and his assistant Lourvine for the next three weekends.  

The two bickered constantly,  but Clorinde didn't comment on it. She just focused on getting the work done as swiftly as possible. 

Once their project was done,  Jurieu handed her the payment,  and she returned to the surface on her own.  She was disappointed that Wriothesley never saw it fit to greet her, but she tried not to let it bother her.  It made sense that he didn't make an appearance,  the commission had nothing to do with him really. 

Her next two commissions from him were of a similar vein,  she assisted the researchers with their work, except this time,  he popped in periodically to check on their progress. 

It was also the first time Clorinde realized just how intense his presence actually was, but more importantly,  just how tall the man was. 

Jurieu was on the thinner side,  but as a researcher, that was understandable. He was of average height, at least that's what Clorinde thought, but he just looked so scrawny standing next to Wriothesley. 

He would lean against the wall near their workstation to watch them,  but didn't really offer much in terms of conversation.  

It was clear how intimidated Jurieu was, which only further flustered Lourvine.  Which prompted not so secret conversations between the two of them on whether or not the Duke distrusted them for some reason. 

Why is he checking on us so much? Hasn't he seemed overly serious lately? And He hasn't teased us about nonsense in forever!  It's that a good thing?! Were common things they argued over.  

 But Clorinde knew what he was doing, and gods was she grateful… 

Whenever he popped in,  he would talk to her,  it was always short, and their conversations were nothing less than cordial,  but he was talking to her, and each conversation gave her more hope for the next one to be just a bit longer, and many times it was. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, but she was still grateful for his company. 

When she finished his fourth commission, he invited her in for some tea, and by her fifth he was smiling at her again. 

And oh how lovely it was… 

.

.

"That's a checkmate," Clorinde said triumphantly.  It was a difficult victory,  she had no idea what Wriothesley was good at chess,  but she was pleasantly surprised.  

He sighed and leaned back in his chair.  "That it is,  I didn't think you had the time to learn chess with how much you work." 

She huffed and started to reset the board. "Hmph, want a re-match? I bet I could beat you faster this time."

"I'd rather not lose out on more mora."

"So you're admitting defeat already?" She tsked,  "Come on,  Your Grace,  if you want you can pick the game this time, and it will still count."

He stood up from his desk. "Unfortunately I have to check on a few things in the fortress, so I have to decline."

She sighed in disappointment,  but didn't argue. "Very well,  thank you for the tea, and the game, it was fun."

"Mhn," he hummed as he cleared away the porcelain.  "If you'd like,  Mademoiselle,  you can come with,  I'll just be doing a few quick rounds." 

"Oh!  Yes, I'll come," she said and stood up.  "I'd like to stretch my legs anyway."

Clorinde followed him out of the comforting warmth of his office, and kept in step just behind him while he visited the fortresses' facilities. 

He didn't speak unless it was to a guard or one of his employees, but she didn't mind. She always enjoyed spending time in silence with him, and found joy in the fact that he seemed to at least want her presence nearby as well. Whenever they needed to enter a lift he would allow her to enter first, and would usher her in with a light hand on her shoulder that she couldn't help but notice would linger before gently sliding away. 

The last stop was the pankration ring. A monthly check up on room and equipment condition, and a review of proper match logs. Clorinde stood up by the tunnel entrance while Wriothesley spoke with Roussimoff, the host that saw over the goings-on of the ring. 

Roussimoff gave Wriothesley the requested paperwork and motioned over to some equipment that was in need of repairs, but right as he was going to show him something else,  he noticed her at the top of the stairs. 

"Oh, good evening Mademoiselle! Are you here for a match? Unfortunately there's nothing scheduled today, but you are welcome to use the equipment!" He let out a boisterous laugh.  "Or you can fight me if you wish!  I'm always itching for a fight!"

Clorinde's first thought was to explain her purpose here, but she stopped herself when a sudden idea flitted into her head… Deciding to act on it,  she carefully moved down the stairs and walked over to the training equipment. 

"I'd love to,  but I've never done something like this before…" she announced.

"Roussimoff,  leave the lady alone, she's here on business," Wriothesley said without looking up from the ledgers in his hand.  

"Ah, I was only joking, Your Grace, she said herself that she's never—"

"Are you a good teacher, Monsieur Roussimoff?" She asked curiously, and just a little louder than usual. 

Roussimoff's face lit up in a wide grin. "I'm the best around!" He eagerly ambled over to her,  grin still in place.  "If you're not too busy,  I can show ya a few moves."

Clorinde offered him her best smile.  "I'd love t—"

"She's terribly busy," Wriothesley interrupted suddenly. 

They both looked over to him only to meet his grim expression. Roussimoff to his credit,  didn't seem fazed by the steel in Wriothesley's eyes,  though Clorinde figured he was also the type to miss important cues. 

The thing was,  she wasn't sure why he seemed so upset over her interest in the sport. He's loosened up quite a bit over the past few months,  and Clorinde figured she could use this as an opportunity to keep their bet going.  She had been hoping he'd volunteer to help her if not spar her himself. It would be fun… 

Did he really want her to get back to work so quickly? 

"I can spare a few moments," she said, stubborn. 

"Hear that?  The lady can spare a few moments!" Roussimoff echoed with a laugh.

He turned on his heel and placed his large hand on her shoulder.  "Come on, Mademoiselle, I'll show you the basics," he said and started explaining to her what each piece of equipment was called. 

Clorinde let him guide her away,  even when his hand boldly slid to her waist.  Even though she had no interest in the man, the attention he was giving her was nice. She didn't expect she'd be so perceptive to it, so she chose not to tell him exactly who she was. He didn't really need to know anyway, and she found she rather liked being treated so delicately. 

Roussimoff was a large man, and was built from head to toe in obvious muscle. He stood eye to eye with Wriothesley,  and had quite the friendly demeanor.  

True to his word, Roussimoff showed her a few techniques the fighters use during their matches,  and even helped measure out the strength of her own punches. As she figured,  her score wasn't very high,  but apparently it was higher than most beginners. As a swordswoman,  she needed to train strength as well,  but not in the same way as a physical fighter might.  

But now that she'd been introduced to it,  the idea was very intriguing.  Training her strength wouldn't harm anything,  and it would provide a much needed distraction from her day to day life…

"Wow you're doing great,  Mademoiselle!  Haha before you know it,  you can sign up for your own matches! " Roussimoff said.  "I'm impressed by how quickly you caught on to everything." 

Clorinde smiled and wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand.  "Thank you!  I appreciate your help today, it's been awhile since I've had fun," she said.

He nodded and gave her shoulders a firm squeeze.  "Of course!  Pankration is a great form of  exercise! You're more than welcome to visit at any time! "

She was ready to step away,  but he started to massage her shoulders, and she decided to let him because he was actually massaging her sore muscles,  and not just feeling her up like some have tried to do in the past.  

Which is why when she blurted out the first thing that came to mind,  she didn't realize what she just walked into until it happened. 

"Nh, you're really good at this," she sighed.  

He chuckled,  "I am quite good with my hands after all, sometimes all you need is a good,  firm touch, " he said and gave her shoulders another good squeeze.

Her face already felt hot from the workout, but a new rush of heat filled her cheeks when he repeated his previous action. She blamed it on purely physical attributes… 

"Interested in seeing what else I can show you?"

"Roussimoff, you're missing your lunch hour," Wriothesley interrupted.  

Clorinde looked up to find that he was in almost the same position he was in before. The ledger still looked like it was on the first page,  or at the most the second.  By now she figured he would have been done, as at least thirty minutes passed.  

"Ah, I can take it later," Roussimoff shrugged. 

Wriothesley's grip on the documents tightened, and his voice lowered.   "No, you will not."

The atmosphere immediately tensed. 

Clorinde glanced between the two of them as the seconds dragged by. Just the tension alone in the air made her own heart race with nervousness. She felt like she missed something, because she wasn't sure exactly what caused the sudden unease.  

Roussimoff laughed suddenly and held his hands up in surrender.  "A'ight boss, whatever you say!" He said as he turned to leave. 

Wriothesley followed him only with his eyes,  until the man was standing at the top of the steps. 

"Don't be a stranger, Mademoiselle,  come by any time!" Roussimoff yelled. 

"She's terribly busy," Wriothesley said again.

This time,  Clorinde held her tongue,  she didn't want to accidentally say something that would upset either of them. 

"I guess we'll see what the future holds," Roussimoff laughed. "And you, Your Grace,  why don't you come by to challenge me some time? I'm sure the guys would love to watch,  we can even invite the lassie!"

"Oh, trust me, I would love to,  but unfortunately,  I am quite busy myself… good day,  Roussimoff," he said coolly. 

The man only stood on the steps for a second longer before shrugging and disappearing down the tunnel. 

Clorinde waited a few more seconds before letting out a sigh. "Is… everything alright, Your Grace?"

He turned to her and nodded, but it was stiff and mechanical. "Yes, of course."

She bit her lip and glanced back at the training equipment that Roussimoff had shown her. The more she thought about what she wanted to do,  the more she thought it was a bad idea. We would have had so much fun as kids… she thought with a sigh. 

So why not now?

"On your left," she said and swung at him.

He dodged and simultaneously caught her fist in his palm, his fingers enveloping her hand like a mit. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, brow raised. 

"Practicing," she grunted as she tried to pull her hand free from his grip.  

"The dummy is behind you, Mademoiselle."

She smirked. "Respectfully, there's one in front of me too, Your Grace."

That brightness that made his eyes shine so prettily flashed through his eyes, and he huffed in amusement. "Very clever,  Mademoiselle."

She grinned.  She thought it was too. "Thank you,  You're Grace,  I thought so too."

He smirked. "Cheeky…"

"Respectfully," she said again as if he missed it. 

His smirk grew into a full smile and she couldn't help but grin back because it was so infectious.

Just as he was loosening his hold on her hand she swung at him with her other. As expected he caught that one too, but he had to drop the ledger, and now his eyes were wide and she could see the pretty ring of gold in the center. 

"Mademoiselle, what are you doing?" He asked bewildered.  

Clorinde huffed and twisted herself free from his grasp. She was tired of all the stiff formalities. She was tired of walking on eggshells. It's been half a year!  Surely they were past all of that by now… but she had to make sure he cracked first. 

"Come on, Your Grace, I think you could use a break from all the paperwork," she said while she rushed over to the training equipment. She had to move quickly to keep his attention, and give him less time to think. Because she knew if he was anything like he was as a child, then the more time he had to think, the more opportunity there was to overthink and change his mind. 

She tossed a pair of focus mitts at him, and he easily caught them. She knew he wouldn't agree to fighting her,  but this? What was there to say no to? 

"Why don't you show me how to do this? You never know when I might need such skills," she said as she took her heels off. 

He laughed and shook his head.  "Don't you think Roussimoff showed you enough?"

Clorinde huffed and raised her fists, though she purposely held her fist the wrong way.  "There's nothing wrong with a second opinion."

He glanced at her hands then did a double take before his brows furrowed in confusion.  "Ah, Mademoiselle, surely you are pulling my leg, what is that?"

"Just a technique I learned in the Fortress of Meropide," she said with a shrug. 

His eyes widened further and he tucked the mitts under his arm.  "Ugh,  no,  don't say that, I can't believe this nonsense, " he grumbled and grabbed her wrist. He forced her fingers in the right position, but she didn't resist, so he really just guided her hands into the proper hold. 

"Ah,  I see,  well thank you," she smiled briefly and swung at him again, this time with more purpose.  

He still easily dodged, but this time his lip twitched,  a smile threatening to show.  Clorinde swung at him once more, and he dodged again with a short laugh.   

"Okay, okay, okay, wait a minute," he said and moved over to a shelf behind her. He grabbed some small fingerless gloves and grabbed her wrist. "You'll need these," he said as he put them on her hands. "These aren't really used anyway," he said more to himself.  

He backed up and started taking his boots off, his coat and tie followed right after. When he was done he pulled the focus mitts on and motioned her over. 

"Alllright, you're going to target the gloves, and I'll push back.  Each strike needs to be quick, but firm,  got it?"

She nodded and bit her cheek to repress the urge to grin again. 

"Hit twice in a row,  then rest, do five sets," he said.

Clorinde nodded and did as he instructed. It was a lot harder than she thought it was,  it was like punching a wall, though he did give her a bit of room to work with. She didn't expect him to give her a serious lesson,  but she was by no means complaining. He took her through a whole basic routine, including jabs, crosses, kicks, and different combinations of them. 

By the time she felt comfortable with the kicks,  he was making her move faster, and pushing back against her strikes harder.  She was actually getting quite tired, but she refused to show it beyond what she couldn't help in her heavier breathing, and the sweat she felt dripping down the side of her face.  

"Wow, you're doing great, Mademo—"

She frowned and swung at him but did a feint and caught his leg with a hard kick.  

She saw him wince, but she didn't give him time to react and gave him four consecutive strikes near his head.  He caught each one with the mitts,  but just to spite him she snuck one in and clocked his shoulder.  

"Oof, hey, hey, easy," he laughed and just dodged her next attempt.  "Why don't we take a—" He tossed aside the mitts and caught her hand with a laugh.  "Whoa,  hey,  Clo–" 

She swung again and he caught her other hand and forced her arms down by her side. 

 "Clorinde, babes,  darling," he said, grinning.

" Yes~?"  She couldn't stop the grin from taking over her own face. 

  His eyes widened slightly, and he sighed heavily and loosened his grip on her hands."Let's… take a break," he said quietly.  

"Okay, " she whispered and took a deep breath to calm her racing heartbeat. 

She felt so warm, and satisfied. She was so tired, and she liked how close he was to her. Each breath that filled her lungs was filled with him, his warmth,  and it made her feel light headed. 

His eyes flitted across her face before focusing back on her eyes.  "You did well today, Miss Clorinde," he said, voice soft like a sigh. He squeezed her hands gently and let her go before taking a step back.  

Clorinde couldn't help but look away.  "Thank you, Sir…"

"I could use some tea, what about you?" He asked as he put his boots back on.  

"I would appreciate it," she said and put her own shoes back on. 

Tie back in place, he grabbed his coat and fell into step beside her while they returned to the administration area. 

He held the door of his office open for her and she thanked him quietly before heading up the steps to his main office. 

She took a seat on his couch to wait while he brewed the tea. She liked the silence that filled in the space between them.  It wasn't tense,  or awkward. It was comforting and warm. 

He put some music on the gramophone on his desk and came over to sit beside her.  "Here you go," he murmured and slid her teacup in front of her. 

"Thank you," she said and picked the cup to take in the pleasant aroma.  This tea smelt minty, and she enjoyed how relaxing it was.

They sat in comforting silence while the music filled the room with a waltz she recognized from her childhood. The steps were burned in her memory, but she hadn't actually danced herself in years. She glanced over to where Wriothesley sat just a hands width away. 

He was watching her. There was a small frown on his face, but she was too worried about disrupting the peaceful atmosphere to say anything. Though even as she finished her tea, his expression did not change. 

 "Wriothesley?" She said hesitantly. 

He focused on her face and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Hm?"

"Is everything alright?"

He sighed and slouched back against the couch, eyes focused on the ceiling.  "I just have a lot on my mind… I'll be very busy for the next few weeks coming up… I might not have anything for you to do for a while." 

Clorinde clutched her cup in her lap to try and gather her courage. "Maybe I can just visit?..." She asked hesitantly,  hopefully… 

His frown deepened just enough for her to notice.  "The Fortress isn't exactly an attraction, Miss Clorinde." 

Another bad joke.  "No, silly, I meant you, I could visit you if that's okay…" she clarified patiently.

"I'll… let you know," he said before standing up with a sigh.

"Okay," she stood as well and brushed her hands over her skirt to smooth out any wrinkles. "Thank you for entertaining me today,  I think I really needed that… I've been a bit stressed as of late." 

He smirked and gestured for her to follow as he walked her out. "Well I'm glad you got the chance to blow off some steam."

Clorinde hurried after him and took a breath to respond, but she stopped herself when she saw the frown on his face again.

He didn't look at her the whole way up, his eyes distant. 

.

.

The next time she met with the researchers, Wriothesley didn't show. Jurieu said he was just busy with work, but Clorinde couldn't help but wonder.  

Was there something else going on that he never mentioned? She tried not to overthink it,  but she did.  She did until he sent her a new commission at the tail end of the month. 

Which,  strangely enough,  was a request to gather 'supplies'. She was about halfway through the list when she realized he'd asked her to do his grocery shopping, of all things! 

She was just a bit exasperated, but she moved on to the next item on his list which was an order from the blacksmith. 

"I'm here to pick up order number 5890," Clorinde said to the boss, Miss Estelle.

Miss Estelle checked her ledger. "Hm, that order is for The Duke of  Meropide,  are you sure your order number is correct?"

Clorinde nodded.  "Yes,  I'm supposed to pick it up for him,  did he not notify you? "

"No Ma'am, I'm afraid he didn't,  unfortunately I can't in good conscience give you the order."

She sighed but didn't complain, rules were rules after all.  "That's alright , I understand of course, I'll probably be back then once I get a signature from him or something. "

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience," she said with a frown. 

Clorinde waved her off, "No worries," she readjusted the bag in her arms and turned to leave,  only to smash right into someone. "Oof,  oh,  pardon me,  I—"

"Oh,  Miss Clorinde, evening, in a bit of a rush are we?"

Clorinde took a step back and gaped in surprise to find said Duke of Meropide standing right in front of her. "Your Grace?  What are you doing here? "

He shrugged.  "I forgot to let Miss Estelle know that you were coming to pick up my order,  so I figured I'd save you the trouble, but it looks like I was a bit late,  my apologies."

"Hm, I see, "she said and stepped aside so he could speak to Miss Estelle.  He could have sent a guard,  Clorinde thought,  or a letter. 

Did he want to run into her? In this case, quite literally… 

She waited patiently while he collected his things and when he walked over to her he took the bag she was holding from her.  

"Thank you,  I'll take it from here, I'll have your pay sent to your office if you are okay with it," he said.

Clorinde nodded.  "That's fine."

He nodded and turned to leave.  "Have a good night,  Miss Clorinde."

She watched him go until he was only a few meters away before her curiosity got the best of her and she hurried to catch up with him. 

"Your Grace,  I can't help but notice that you had me do a bit of grocery shopping, is there… a particular reason for that? " She asked curiously.  

He laughed and looked over at her with a smirk.  "Because I knew you'd agree. "

She scoffed. The nerve. She wanted to complain,  but he did say he'd pay her, so she really couldn't.  "Well don't get used to it, " she grumbled instead. 

"Mhm, I'll keep that in mind."

She sighed and was going to go say her farewell when she noticed he was leaving the city.  

"Your Grace,  where are you going?" 

"Just outside the city for a picnic, this evening is set to be warm with clear skies, it's a luxury I don't indulge in often, and I figured today of all days would be worth the extra work tomorrow. " 

"What's the occasion?" Did he really have her get the supplies for him to go on a date with someone?  Just the thought irked her,  but she didn't really have a reason why. 

"Today's my birthday," he said as casually as if she'd asked him the time. 

"What?  I thought it was on the—"

He just glanced at her and she knew. 

So he gave himself a new birthday too?  "Well,  happy birthday,  Your Grace," she recovered quickly. "Who are you celebrating with?" 

"It's just me," he said as he turned to her. 

She didn't even realize they were outside of the main city now. 

"Well,  good night, Miss Clorinde,  thank you for your help today. I have been swamped this whole week,  so I didn't really have time to run the errands myself, I promise your next commission will be more appropriate."

"It's alright,  I'm glad I could help," she said honestly. 

He smiled slightly and walked off. 

Clorinde watched him go but the whole time she had to force herself not to follow him. It was his birthday!  She wanted to join him,  but he hadn't invited her, and she still wasn't sure where they stood. So she kept her feet planted in place. 

She intended to go home,  but found herself staring at a small trinket shop. Should I dare?

It was worth a try at least. She steeled herself and walked in and moved straight to the counter.  There was an older woman sitting behind it with a book in hand.  No one else was around,  so Clorinde figured she must not not get very busy. 

"Pardon me, Madam, do you have anything that would be a good last minute gift?" Clorinde asked. 

The older woman jumped up from her chair and quickly moved to the counter. "Evening,  Miss, that I do,  but it all depends on who this gift is for,  we want it to still have meaning,  of course. Unless you want a simple gadget or a card,  I suppose I can help with that too."

"I guess I want to give something meaningful,  if that's possible."

The shopkeeper nodded in approval.  "Good, good,  you mentioned him? How do you know this man?"

Clorinde absently drummed her fingers on the counter in thought. "Well… he's um… a co-worker I suppose."

"A co-worker you say?  And for how long have you known him? " 

"Oh dear… I guess a long time,  it's complicated,  but I did grow up with him," Clorinde said. 

The woman tapped her chin and narrowed her eyes.  "Is he married?"

"Uh… no."

"Are you?"

"No, I'm not,  but what does that have to do with—"

"Hush darling,  it does,  trust me, now describe him to me in three words." 

Clorinde took a step back to glance around the store.  Maybe it would be easier if she just grabbed something at random… but at the same time,  the woman was right, she wanted it to have meaning.

"Madam, forgive me,  but I'm in a bit of a hurry,  so—"

"Ah, then hurry and tell me,  what's the first three words you think of when you think of this co-worker of yours?"

Sighing, she said the first three things that came to mind.  "Kind, forgiving… and I guess,  strong?  Both in the literal and the figurative sense."

The woman nodded and started skimming quickly through her crowded shelves and motioned for her to follow. "I bet he's a busy man," she said.

"He is, " Clorinde agreed.  "A lot of people depend on him,  and he often can't find the time for himself. "

"So he works a lot?"

"He does,  he doesn't really have a set off day,  normally he takes breaks if he gets too overwhelmed,  but he loses track of time and still ends up overworked."

The woman climbed a small ladder and retrieved a long thin box.  "I've got the perfect thing for you,  dear, just one more question, gold, bronze or silver? "

"Silver, " Clorinde said automatically. 

"Wonderful, " the woman took out an even smaller box and put the larger one back and hurried back to the counter. "Here's your gift, Miss, it's one of a kind as well!" She opened up the little box to reveal a silver pocket watch in the center.  

It was engraved with an intricate design of a wolf,  and each eye was an icy blue gem.  Clorinde couldn't believe it.  "No way, " she whispered and brushed her fingers over it gently. His face immediately came to mind,  the blue of his eyes the most prominent. It's perfect .  "I'm so curious where you got this."

"Well,  technically,  this is part of a set,  the original owner was a wealthy hunter. He ended up founding a successful pelt shop, and had these commissioned. Though once he passed on his only son pawned these off to settle debts. A shame, but I cleaned them up to add to my selection of curios. The bronze one is of course, a bear, and the gold is a rishboland tiger, each sold separately I'm afraid."

"That's fine,  I'll take this one," she said and opened it up just to make sure it actually worked. Even the face was wonderfully made, the hands of the clock were a nice blue color. It really was beautiful.  

The woman clapped her hands together and packed it in an elegant box. "Wonderful,  oh and I forgot to mention,  the hands of the clock will turn a soft amber color to indicate that it is morning,  quite ingenious really."

"Wow, it really is, " Clorinde said quietly. 

The price tag ended up being just about two million mora,  thankfully the woman premited her to pay with a bank note because she just didn't have that much on her person. 

Once she signed the proper paperwork she rushed out of the shop clutching the small box to her chest. 

She hurried back the way she came towards the outskirts of the city.  By the time she made it outside of the city walls,  the sun had set.  Twilight quickly set in, blanketing the landscape in darkness. She only knew a few places to look,  and had already exhausted all but one spot. 

It was once her favorite place to spend time as a child.  Particularly because it was well out of the way of the rest of the city, and a few fruit trees grew by,  so during the summer there was always something to snack on. And in those days, she always had a friend to share them with.  She made some of her favorite memories on that beach… 

As she approached the location,  she heard the sound of something repeatedly hitting the water.  It was quiet enough to not be from an animal,  but it didn't sound natural. 

At the bottom of the hill she noticed a tall dark figure standing by the water. It couldn't have been anyone else. 

Clorinde hurried over and cleared her throat to alert him of her presence. "Pardon, Your Grace?"

He tossed a rock at the water.  It skipped five times before sinking.  "Ah,  Miss Clorinde, what can I do for you? " He asked without turning towards her. 

"I wanted to give you something, " she said nervously.  Would he even like it? 

He skipped another rock before finally turning towards her.  "Is it so important that you had to track me down at night? "

She huffed and held the box out.  "Happy Birthday, Your Grace," she said softly. 

Just like he did the last time she gave him something,  he just stared at it with wide eyes.  Clorinde waited patiently for him to take the box, and when he finally did, she stepped back to give him space. 

This time,  he opened it right away, but he quickly snapped it closed.  "What are you trying to do?" He asked just above a whisper. 

Clorinde frowned and crossed her arms.  "What do you mean?"

"Why are you giving me this?" 

"Because it's your birthday? And I wanted to get you a present,"  nervous,  she tightened her arms over her chest.  "Do you not like it?"

"Why?" He asked again.

Quite a few different responses flew through her head.  Most of them were some kind of impolite deflection. As soon as she noticed she sighed heavily and sat down in the sand.  

"I don't know… you said it was your birthday and I had this… this urge to get you something. As fate would have it,  I was lucky enough to come across that, as soon as I saw it,  I saw your face…" she bit her lip and picked up a rock from the ground. She tossed it in an attempt to make it skip,  but it sank without doing so. "Because I want to be your friend again," she admitted quietly.  "Because I miss you, " she added after a heavy beat. 

He sighed himself, and sat down beside her. He was close enough that she could reach out to him if she dared, but she kept her arms around her knees. 

She watched from the corner of her eye as he opened the box up again.  This time he took the watch out, and held it close to his face as he inspected it. 

"I really like this," he finally said. He hooked it to his vest and slipped it in an inside pocket. "Thank you…" 

She smiled and let out a relieved laugh.  "I'm glad."

"Are you hungry? I've got some leftover fruit."

"I'll take one if that's okay." 

He nodded and stood up,  "of course, c'mere," he said and brushed the sand off his pants and hiked back up the small hill. 

She followed after him until they got to a small tree where he'd set his stuff against. He sat down and motioned to the spot beside him and pulled a bright bulle fruit from his bag. 

Clorinde took a seat with her back against the tree and accepted the orange fruit. She took her gloves off so as not to stain them and busied herself with peeling the rind.

They sat in silence until it got much darker,  and soon she could only see a few feet in front of her.  She didn't even realize she was nodding off until he spoke up.

"I missed you too, Clorinde…" he said softly. "You're surprisingly hard to get rid of."

She frowned and sat up to look at him. "Is that a joke, Your Grace?" She didn't know what he meant by that, but she didn't like how it sounded. 

He chuckled and laid down in the grass. "Only the second part."

"You're bad at them," she grumbled and laid down beside him.  

"I know…" he fell silent for a few moments before speaking again. "Today is also the anniversary of my sentencing…" 

She frowned.  "Why would you choose today as your birthday then, Your Grace?"

"Wriothesley," he said. 

It took her a second to understand what he meant. "Why would you choose today as your birthday,  Wriothesley?" She amended.  

"Hmm, it was all impulsive,  but after I thought about it,  it made sense. It was when I came up with the name,  I hadn't planned on it,  so choosing the day I thought of it felt right," he nudged her hand with his and when she didn't retreat he carefully laced his fingers with hers. 

Clorinde's first thought was to pull away.  She didn't want to give him the wrong idea, but she decided against it.  She had promised herself that if he ever needed her again, then she would help him if it was within her abilities.  

But it scared her how right it felt holding his hand like this. She didn't like how satisfying it felt to have his thumb brush against her knuckles. Or the fact that she liked just the weight of his hand in general. 

She squeezed his hand gently and he laughed wryly. He covered his face with his free arm and mumbled a curse under his breath paired with something else that sounded a lot like why?

She didn't dare to ask… 

"I'm sure it was very hard for you," she whispered softly.  

" I guess it was… back then it was every man for himself, I had to grow up quickly or I would have been a lot worse off…" he tightened his grip on her hand and let out a shaky breath.  "The first year was brutal… I never felt safe, anywhere, sometimes I'd go a week without eating,  but I was used to that… things didn't get better until I finally figured out that I needed to learn how to fight, but I also needed to learn how to talk, how to convince people to get behind me so to speak." 

He lifted their hands up and turned his arm so one of the large scars on his arm caught the light. 

"I almost died on multiple occasions…" 

Clorinde pulled his hand down and turned on her side so she could cradle his hand with her free one.  "I'm glad you didn't," she whispered. 

He turned his head to meet her eyes and smiled slightly.  "I guess I am too…"

He was silent for a few moments before continuing in a much softer voice.  

"I didn't contact you right away because of a combination of things… I took up the mantle for the new administrator on the last day of my sentence. I was swiftly buried in mountains of paperwork." He sighed and closed his eyes.  "When I was finally free to visit the city… I felt like I had been transported to another world.  So much changed in those ten years that I felt lost, I almost turned around,  but I wanted to see you.  I didn't expect you to remember me,  or want to talk to me,  or anything.  I just wanted to know if you were doing okay. I didn't have any other idea on where to look aside from one, so I visited your family home. You weren't there, as I figured, but  I learned that day that you were engaged to a noble man in the textile industry…"

Clorinde could only stare in shock.  This whole time he knew about her failed engagement? It only lasted a few months,  but that was such a stressful time in her life because she spent everyday trying to pretend like she wanted to go through with it. She tried so hard to be okay with marrying that man, for her parents sake if anything. But she couldn't do it… 

Why didn't he say anything before? Did it really not bother him? 

He let her hand go and sat up.

"I don't know if it even matters to you, but I wasn't angry or upset… if I had to put a name to the emotion I felt, perhaps it was resignation?

"My biggest concern was solved. Things were going well for you.  I could go about my life without worrying over you… 

 "I buried myself in work afterwards, and I didn't visit the surface again for almost three years," he sighed and pulled the pocket watch out of his vest and started to fuss with it. 

"I was in town for a meeting and heard some melusine's gossiping that you called off your engagement not too long after I had left…" he laughed, short and bitter. "Because of course that's how it worked out… I agonized over whether or not it would be too distasteful to show my face, it had been thirteen years at that point,  but I told myself that if I could think of one reason why you'd want to see me, that I would find you. But I could never think of one.  I spent the next two years after that trying to drown myself in easy women and work…"

Clorinde didn't know what to say.  Her failed engagement was arranged by her parents. She only went along with it because she wanted to make them happy. But it only lasted for less than a year. 

The timing of it all was too unfortunate.  

"What changed your mind?" She asked hesitantly. 

He traced his thumb over the engraving in the watch, and bit his lip.  "I was reading the newspaper, and there was an article written about you. It was a piece detailing your many achievements as a duelist. At the end was a grainy photo of you … it was the first time I'd seen your face in fifteen years," he laughed, but it was short and bitter, and his face fell back into a frown immediately.  "Can you believe I spent three hours staring at that photo?… 

 "Your face haunted me for weeks after that… After about a month I caved and sent that initial letter to your office…" he sighed  and ran his hand over his face. "And now we're here… guess we were both cheaters, huh? "

Clorinde felt the sting in his words hit her right in the chest.  The shame she felt back then when she initially made such accusations came back full force. She had already apologized over it,  but she let him have it again because she really was sorry for how things turned out. She should have listened to him… she should have let him talk… 

Gods she was horrible. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly.  "I never meant to hurt you, " I was drunk, stayed on her tongue as bitter as the drink itself.  Because even though she had been,  saying it now felt like an excuse. Besides, she said even worse things to him that morning… 

He stood up and offered her his hand. "I am too," he said once he helped her to her feet. "Come on, I'll walk you home," he said as he picked up his bag and turned back to the city. 

The walk back was deathly silent. Every time she looked at him,  he only looked more exhausted. He was frowning, and even when they were almost to her house, his expression remained the same. 

She wanted to ask him if there was something else on his mind, but she couldn't find the courage to pull him from his thoughts.  

When they got to her house. She stayed on the street with him.  

"It was arranged…" she whispered hesitantly as she turned to him.  "I had convinced myself that you were either dead or had left me behind… so I didn't really protest when my parents brought the arrangement up," she frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. "I remember my father saying I was hitting the ceiling… and if I didn't want to die alone, I should take what I could get."

Wriothesley kept his eyes on her house,  his frown still etched onto his face. 

"I ended the engagement for a few reasons… the first thing was we had an argument over my parents inheritance. I didn't want it,  and that made him very upset… the second thing was,  I didn't… I didn't love him,  and even though I tried, I couldn't imagine pretending to  for the rest of my life… so I ended it. He was furious,  but when I told him he could have my fortune if he beat me in a duel he cursed me out in front of the Palais Mermonia and stormed off…" 

He chuckled softly and finally turned to her, but she didn't like the smile that sat on his face. It wasn't real… 

"I do wonder what kind of Saint would be lucky enough to win that stone heart of yours…"

Clorinde frowned. "Is that another joke?"

His smile fell like a mask. "No."

"There's no need to say such things…" she mumbled. His words stung, but the longer they snuck into her bones,  the more she felt like she deserved it. She let him have that one too,  it wasn't worth starting an argument over. 

She stepped back towards her house and did her best to give him a smile, because she didn't want to leave him on a sour note, it was a special day after all… 

"Happy Birthday again, Your Grace,  until next time?"

"About that, " he mumbled and stepped towards her.  Much to her surprise he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Her heart instantly doubled in speed. She was not expecting the degree to which he enveloped her. She felt tiny all of a sudden,  and her face flushed with heat. He squeezed her tight, trapping her crossed arms against his chest. 

"Thank you for joining me tonight," he murmured into her hair. He sighed quietly and pressed a kiss on top of her head. "It really meant a lot, it probably made me happier than it should have…but it helped me realize something, and I'm afraid I won't be contacting you anymore…"

She frowned, but didn't pull away,  because even though she didn't want to admit it,  she liked how it felt being in his arms.  

"Why not?" She asked quietly. 

"Because," he let her go and cupped her cheek and gently tilted her face up to meet his eyes. "I can't imagine spending the rest of my life pretending like I don't love you…" 

!!!

Her heart was once again in her throat, what was she supposed to say to that?! The tenderness in the way he held her face too drove a stake in her heart. This wasn't supposed to happen! 

"S-Surely you value our friendship still…" she said hesitantly.  "After everything that we've been through, shouldn't we preserve that?"

"You're asking me for something that kills me to give," he whispered. 

"Maybe with more time, and um—"

"I tried, sweetheart …" he grimaced and let her go with a heavy sigh.  "I've tried."

Why did this hurt so much more than when she'd done this a few years ago?  She needed to say something to save this,  but she didn't know what. 

"So that's it then?  We go our separate ways like nothing happened?" 

"It's best for both of us," he said. "It's what you originally wanted anyway." 

"Wriothesley… "

"I know you're searching for something, but I don't know what it is. I wish I could help you find it, but I can't when you keep even yourself hidden," he let her hand go and started to back away down the street. 

"Maybe someday, in another life,  I'll get the chance to do things right,  you can start that garden you used to go on about for hours, and if you're willing to give me the chance,  I'll build you that cottage you always wanted…  Goodbye, Clorinde, maybe I'll see you around."

Goodbye?... 

Watching him leave reminded her far too much of the last two times he walked away. Both were her fault, and she couldn't endure it again. She probably wouldn't get another chance… 

Without thinking,  she ran after him. Her legs moved faster than her mind could keep up. 

"You're right,  Wriothesley,  you can't get rid of me that easily," she ran right in front of him and got in his face.  "I saw the blueprints in Jurieu's office… I personally suggested he bring the idea to Lady Furina, but he insisted that you want it to be kept a secret, why is that?"

The frown already on his face only deepened. "I… I don't know what you're talking about, " he muttered. 

She waited until he looked her in the eyes to speak. "Come on, Mon chéri, you and I both know that is the furthest thing from the truth," she whispered. "I could tell her tomorrow morning, or report you for illegal activities,  who's to say? You might want to keep an eye on me, hm?"

His eyes widened briefly before a smirk fell on his face.  "Are you extorting me, Clorinde?"

She could barely believe it either… "I could be."

"You truly are a woman after my own heart," he said ruefully. "Very well,"  he took a step back and pulled out a document from his pocket.  "The only thing I have left to offer you is more work."

She snatched the paper from his hand as fast as she could out of fear he was just teasing her with it. 

"I need that done within five days,  do you think you can handle that, Mademoiselle?"

"Bet I can do it in three," she said.  She didn't even know what it was about. But the moment she said it,  she was determined to do it, even if it meant no sleep. 

"Do that and I'll double your payment," he said.

"Triple," she blurted out.  

He laughed and ran his hands over his face before looking back at her with a crooked smile.  "As you wish."

"Consider it done… Your Grace," she backed up and gave him a formal bow before turning on her heel and returning to her house. 

It wasn't how she wanted things to be,  but it was better than nothing. Even if he ended up hating her,  she could find a way to live with that… she lost him twice,  she didn't think she could handle losing him again. 

Chapter Text

Wriothesley heard his office door open up without a knock preceding it, and he held his hand out without looking up from his paperwork. 

The sound of heels clicking against metal soon followed before a folder was shoved in his waiting hand.

"That's everything I could gather on the fatui kids and the outsiders," said his unannounced guest. 

"Hm, first you don't knock,  then you try to break my wrist," he said as he skimmed through the folder. "Not very polite, Miss Clorinde."

She snatched the folder from his hands and he quickly looked up, irritated, and locked eyes with bright ultraviolet. 

"My apologies, Your Grace,  I'll make sure to let your guards know next time I come to deliver you illegal paperwork," she snapped, annoyed.

He kept his hand out,  waiting. "Hm, admitting to breaking the law, ooo, imagine that. How the mighty have fallen."

She glared at him. "Watch it,  Your Grace,  I'm risking a lot getting you this information,  you should be grateful, I might refuse next time. "

He smirked and waved his waiting hand at her.  "You won't."

She held his gaze for a few beats, eyes narrowed before sighing and gently placing the folder in his hand.  "Here's the folder, Your Grace." 

"Much better," he hummed and opened the folder again to read through it. "Hm, there's  a lot of valuable information here, Clorinde… I'm impressed." 

"Did you expect anything less from me?" She asked with a huff. 

"Of course not, I wouldn't bother dealing with you if there was a risk of mediocre work."

Hm, according to these documents it looks like the fortress will be dealing with a lot of rats in the near future… 

Clorinde pushed her hand down on the folder, blocking the paragraph he was on, and slammed it against his desk. 

He sighed and looked up at her in annoyance. " What? "

She was frowning, but this frown was different from her usual one. She actually looked upset. 

He was a bit taken aback by the pain in her eyes… His first instinct was to ask her if she was okay, but he just pursed his lips and remained silent. 

An old habit that refused to die… and he tried harder than most might to kill it.  That initial urge to reach out to her,  to place his hand over hers… it made him feel sick,  how deep this woman still had her claws dug in him.  

And he swore she knew it too.  She probably found joy out of the fact that he was still tolerating her.  That he couldn't bring himself to tell her that enough was enough… 

She's valuable  is what he often used as an excuse whenever he thought about banning her from stepping foot in the fortress.  

She could ruin my plans, was the next excuse. It was the strongest reason that he kept her around. The strongest one he allowed himself to even think because the alternative made him lose his appetite. 

It kept him up at night… 

The alternative… 

"There's no need to be so rude, Your Grace…" she whispered.

He grimaced and snatched the folder out from under her hand. "The truth isn't always laced with sweets, Mademoiselle."

She kept her palm on his desk and leaned down closer to his face. "That may be so, but you lie. "

She had to know.  There was no way she didn't.

He was starting to feel sick again. He wanted to apologize… and he hated that. 

His frown deepened. "You're dismissed, Clorinde."

She stepped away and crossed her arms tight over her chest. "I don't know exactly what is going on,  but what I do know,  I don't like… be careful, Your Grace… anything involving the Fatui has always been dangerous, especially as of late." 

"I know what I'm doing," he snapped, annoyed. 

She bit her lip and sighed softly. Her posture sagged and she turned to leave, but she stopped at the top of the steps, her eyes once again finding his.

They looked glossy… 

He had to be imagining it… 

"Have a good night, Your Grace… I'm glad I could help you," she whispered before silently leaving his office.

As soon as the door clicked behind her he buried his face in his hands in frustration. 

She did that every time, speak so gently when she said farewell… even if they'd just finished arguing over something.  She would take a deep breath, and wish him well in the softest voice… 

Gods he hated it. It always made him feel sick because it always made him want to follow her. To apologize for whatever he did or said that brought that look to her face. 

She did it on purpose.  She had to be… 

He spent the rest of the night looking over the documents she got for him while the sad look in her eyes haunted his psyche. 

He was in the middle of a meeting with Jurieu and his assistant Lourvine when his door opened up without warning.  

A frown immediately took over his face and he scowled at the steps moments before the familiar sound of her heels echoed against the metal staircase. Slow and precise, like everything she did… 

Her hat showed first, followed by her stoney expression that was already set in a familiar frown.  She paused at the top of the stairs and held his gaze without speaking. 

From the corner of his eye he noticed Jurieu and Lourvine tense in their seats,  but he didn't take his eyes off his unwelcome guest. 

" Clearly you see I'm busy," he snapped once another beat of silence passed. 

She flinched,  it was slight, but it was enough for him to notice,  because of course he fucking noticed.  

"It's important, Your Grace," she said, voice soft. 

"It can wait, " he said,  not bothering to hide his irritation.

She pursed her lips but didn't protest like he expected her to.  She just nodded and turned to leave.  "I'll be outside."

He didn't relax until the door shut with her exit. 

"Is everything alright, Your Grace? " Lourvine asked warily. "I thought Miss Clorinde was cleared…" 

He unintentionally turned his glare on her. "Not for this meeting, else she'd be here for it, don't you think?" 

She bristled. "With all due respect,  Your Grace,  I didn't think it was necessary to talk to her like that,  Miss. Clorinde is a valuable asset to the team and—"

"Oh, would you look at that, you hit the nail on the head, she's an asset, so that means, if I need her, then I'll call her, otherwise she has no business in here." 

"I thought she was your friend," she said,  surprised.  "At least that's what she said when I asked her why she wanted to help us…"

Jurieu finally decided to speak up and grabbed her arm.  "L-Lourvine! Maybe you shouldn't be—"

She pulled her arm away.  "No,  Jurieu,  someone has to say something! You've been treating her poorly for months!  She's our best Champion Duelist,  she deserves more respect on that alone if anything."

Wriothesley laughed, surprised by her sudden boldness. "My dear, Lourvine, overworld titles mean nothing down here."

She stood up suddenly, scratching her chair across the floor,  and slammed her paperwork on his desk.  "Well then,  perhaps you should lead by example? Wasn't your title granted in the overworld?"

Jurieu's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "L-Lourvine!" He whispered harshly. 

Wriothesley narrowed his eyes and leaned forward in his chair and just glanced up at her to meet her gaze.  "That's a brilliant idea, Miss Lourvine,  we'll start with you, go on, lead by example ," he challenged quietly. 

He held her gaze for a long tense moment before her lip quivered and she sank back in her chair.

"I-I'm sorry,  Your Grace…" she whispered. "I was out of line…" 

"Glad you're at least self aware," he pinched the bridge of his nose and motioned to the door.  "I'm done, we'll talk later."

He was beyond irritated, and he knew he couldn't have a proper conversation at the moment. He was too annoyed.  He needed a breather. He felt like throwing everything on his desk to the floor. I'll probably feel better after some tea… 

Jurieu stood up,  visibly trembling.  "Uh, I'm really sorry, Your Grace,  Lourvine has just been overwhelmed lately. We've been trying our hardest to meet all of the deadlines… but we have hit a roadblock, uh,  which is why I needed your—"

"Get. Out ," he muttered.  

They both stood up and quickly shuffled down the steps before hurrying out of the room. 

Wriothesley sighed heavily and got up to brew some tea. What Lourvine said was unfortunately circling around in his head.

It was only making him more annoyed.  

He had enough shit to deal with on a daily basis with the Fortress on its own,  but now he had to deal with issues trickling down from the overworld and his own assistants nagging him over the thorn in his side? 

A small knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts, and he glared at the door.  He could probably use a nap too, he couldn't remember the last time he had a full night of rest, but that probably wasn't going to happen… 

He ignored the door and focused on preparing his tea. He'd only just managed to pour himself a cup when his office door opened.  He growled in annoyance and glared at the intruder. 

"Of course you're still here,  what do you want?"

Clorinde pursed her lips and silently made her way up the steps.  "I need to talk to you."

"Another time,  I'm not in the mood for chit chat."

She crossed her arms and sat in the chair across from his desk. "You'll have to throw me out if you want me to leave."

"Don't tempt me,  Mademoiselle, I actually can," he muttered. 

She huffed. "I won't make it easy for you."

"You don't make anything easy for me," he snapped. 

 She frowned and folded her hands in her lap. "Your Grace, I came here because I overheard some rumors… I believe there's a hit on you,  I—"

He barked out a laugh.  "What?  Really?  Ooh, I wish someone would try something."

"Your Grace!  This isn't a laughing matter, considering what's happening with the seawater… assassination attempts could be done in an instant…" her frown deepened.  "How do you know the tea you're drinking is safe? We've already had reports of someone spiking drinks… copy cat incidents are always a risk. " 

He glanced at his cup and shrugged. "I'm sure it must be painless if it happens so quickly."

He didn't really care all that much about his own safety. At this point in the development,  the Wingalet was nearly finished.  If he just disappeared one day,  he was sure that Jurieu could manage well enough on his own. And if the prophecy was real,  then he'd be ready. 

He wasn't really needed all that much anymore… was he? 

"Your Grace,  that isn't funny,  if something happened to you, the Fortress would surely fall apart."

He sipped his tea and tried his best to let it work its magic and calm him, but her presence was throwing off his concentration, agitating him.  She always seemed to agitate him lately… 

"Clorinde, don't threaten me with a good time, I'd love the opportunity to finally be able to rest…"

Fate has kept him from the jaws of death far too many times, and for what?

"You have no idea how tired I am of all of this," he said as he motioned around. He thought it was randomly,  he swore it was,  but it looked more like he just motioned to—

"Me?" She asked in a whisper. 

He laughed and set his cup down.  "Well,  you certainly don't help."

She looked down and bit her lip, and once again he had the urge to apologize. 

"I just wanted to make sure you were aware…" she said softly. 

His irritation spiked. "Why?" 

"I already told you,  if something happened to you, the Fortress would surely fall apart."

"Do you really think I care all that much about a bunch of criminals?" He scoffed and pushed his cup aside. "You don't really know me,  Clorinde."

She met his gaze for a long tense beat.  "Maybe I don't, but I know more than anyone else left in this world.  I know who you were , I know what you've done.  

"I know why you would rather go hungry than deny a cat or dog a meal. I know why you have a soft spot for children, anything innocent and fragile really, and why you force yourself to down Sigewinne's drinks, because you don't want her to worry," she gave a pointed nod to the empty drink on his desk that Sigewinne left for him earlier that day.

He could only scowl in response. 

"You have a strong sense of justice, and I know you care about helping others, that's why you work so hard. You care about giving people the opportunity for redemption. And you care about protecting the innocent from those that cannot be saved,  that's why you sacrifice yourself… that's why you bleed so others don't have to."

He scoffed in annoyance. "You paint me as some kind of Saint, yet you forget I'm really just a murderer at the end of the day."

She shook her head. "Vigilante maybe… but you're not too different from a Champion Duelist when you really break it down, killing in the name of justice…" 

"There was only vengeance in my heart that night," he snapped. 

"You can't fool me, Your Grace, and I know you're trying to. You have a big heart, and I know how soft it is…" she whispered.  

He just sat there staring at her, speechless. She read him like an open book. 

He hated that.

That's what he got for opening himself up to her too much… 

She knew nearly all of his secrets… She knew all of his hopes, his dreams, she knew how they went up in smoke,  she knew how he looked starved and bruised, she knew how he looked at his weakest. She's seen him in rags, in fine cotton, and she's seen him in nothing at all… She knew what his heart looked like…  

… and she knew how to break him. 

She was his Achilles heel. 

There really was only one thing she didn't know.

"Fine…I'll give that to you too," he mumbled to himself. 

"What do you mean?" She asked.

He barely heard her.

He stood and motioned for her to follow him and walked down the steps.

"Your Grace… is everything alright?"

He motioned again for her to follow.  "Come, come,  don't keep me waiting, I've got two things to show you, they are very important."

She frowned but silently followed after him like a gardemech with a human face.  Slow and calculating. 

He waited for her patiently in the center of the lift. He couldn't help but smirk at the way she looked at him.  He could see the gears in her head turning.  She was analyzing him with that cold gaze of hers. Suspicious, guarded. 

He couldn't help but laugh.  "There's no need to look so on edge, my dear.  If things go awry,  I'm still willing to protect you with my life."

Even as he said it, he surprised how sincere he was. He'd still protect this woman with his dying breath... it was kind of sad. He really didn't want to think about why,  but he knew the answer.

Killing those feelings was like slaying a hydra of old... but damn did he try.  

"What do you mean?  Is it that dangerous?" She asked warily.  

"It could be," he said. 

Once they were on the center platform he hit a switch and the lift began to lower. Her eyes widened in surprise and she reached out to him to steady herself. 

He tensed and instinctively brushed her hand off his arm, but it was too late. Her touch was already branded on his arm, along with the hurt that flashed in her eyes. 

He refused to look at her fully. 

Once the platform reached the bottom he moved over to open the three protective gates.

"This, Mademoiselle,  is the Forbidden zone, named such,  because I'm the only one allowed in here… Typically," he smiled wryly and motioned for her to follow. "Come on."

He saw the hesitancy in her eyes,  but she quickly steeled herself and followed after him. He knew she would.  

"This place has been here for ages, if it were up to me,  I wouldn't have given this place a name. It's incredibly hard to find something or someone that has no name after all…" he stopped in front of the small railing that bordered the seal and turned to face her. "You want to try to guess what this is? "

Her frown deepened as she glanced between his face and the sluice gate. "Well,  I can see that it is a seal with some kind of reader… but I don't understand what it means."

"Ever since I assumed leadership over the Fortress of Meropide, I've been researching this gate. It's actually another thing that has been taking up so much of my time," he sighed and turned around to face the gate.  "After many tests, I've deduced that the reader there tracks the concentration of Primordial Sea water in the surrounding water."

Her eyes widened and she took a small step back.  "What? How do you know?"

"Well,  to be honest,  it's only a hypothesis, but it's practically proven anyway. You see, the Fatui have been a pain in my ass for a while now. A few years ago, I had just finished a pest control sweep of the Fortress,  so to speak, and I took a bit of a swim around the fortress to inspect possible security breaches. 

"I remember feeling ill, and when I returned to my office I noticed my skin was red, like a burn or a rash of some kind. I also had trouble breathing."

She gasped. "What? You could have died!  Did you get help?"

He smirked.  "We'd both would have been better off for it, but no, I didn't."

"Your Grace!  Don't say something like that."

He waved her off.  "The symptoms didn't last long anyway, but it was enough for me to wonder… I sought the counsel of some researchers that had been imprisoned.  Though their mad tangents were hard to decipher, A thought came to me… Do you remember that book you used to read to me as kids? The one about Remuria?"

Clorinde nodded and stepped over to lean against the railing beside him. "It was your favorite…" she said, voice just above a soft whisper. 

.

It reminded him of the soft way she used to read to him in the middle of the night by candlelight so as not to wake her parents.

Most days she wouldn't bother with a candle, and would rely only on the moonlight that filled her window. 

He often fell asleep with his head in her lap and her gentle hands in his hair… 

.

He frowned and shoved the memory and the ache it brought to his heart as far away as he could.  

"Anyway, it reminded me of the prophecy, and about Remuria's fall, and I wondered, was that a sign of history repeating itself?

"On a whim, I decided to… prepare. Just in case. I had the resources available,  the mora, the reach needed to do it, so I figured, even if it came to nothing in the end.  I could probably sell off the design, or find some other use for it.  But I would rather be safe than sorry… I'd rather do something since I was able."

"How? What could you possibly do?" She asked, bewildered. 

He stepped away from the railing and ushered her away from the gate. "Come on,  there's one other thing I have left to show you."

Clorinde hurried away, seemingly eager to get away from the gate. He couldn't blame her though. Being so close to something that meant immediate death was daunting.

She waited for him in the center of the lift, and he hit the switch to send them back up. 

"What I'm about to show you, Is my most closely guarded secret. I know you must be dying to know, and very soon you'll be privy to all of my secrets.  I'll have nothing left to give you,  imagine that?" He sounded way too enthusiastic, but strangely he wasn't forcing it either. 

Clorinde's pretty little frown only deepened.  "What? Your Grace, my purpose here isn't to—"

"Oh come off it,  Clorinde, I know you're curious, you were always a bit nosey as a kid."

"You don't have to show me if you really don't want to… I didn't ask you to bring me here." 

"You didn't have to." He shrugged and hit another switch and the large door leading to the hidden workshop opened. 

A sickening mix of excitement,  bitterness and defeat curdled in the pit of his stomach, but he didn't care anymore.  

This was his biggest accomplishment in his life. He's spent weeks looking over the designs, gathering resources, and finding people to carry out his plans.  Though in the end,  he was only a tiny piece of this huge puzzle… Still,  he couldn't help but feel a little prideful of how far the project has come. 

What will she do,  I wonder…

Clorinde shook her head and took a step back. "No, I'm not going to go any further."

Wriothesley scoffed in annoyance.  "What now, woman?"

"I never asked for this, I'll leave now,  but I promise I won't speak of this," she said quietly. "I help you because I want to,  I don't expect anything in—"

"No, no, no,  my dear,  you help me because I pay you.  Don't forget how much mora I put into your pockets." 

She frowned and crossed her arms tight over her chest. "I only took the money because you insisted!  Don't paint me out to be some heartless—"

"Bitch?"

She fell silent and stared at him with that same damn look that haunted him at night… 

"There's no need to say such things, Your Grace…" 

The guilt that constantly hung over his head crushed him as soon as he heard the small waver in her voice. 

Ugh,  he was too tired for this.

"Clorinde,  you should be a little more excited, this is the grand finale, the magnum opus to our little game! "

"I'm not playing a game with you.  Why do you keep insisting so?"

He rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Why,  my dear champion, you've already answered that yourself,  you know who I am, but do you know anyone at all that could say the same for you? Because it's definitely not me."

Hurt and confusion plastered itself on her face.  He didn't give her a chance to respond and turned around to hit the last switch on the wall,  allowing the tinted glass to fade to reveal the hidden workshop. 

Her retort was quickly overshadowed by a gasp of awe as she slowly walked up to the glass. He had to admit, the amazement in her eyes was satisfying to see. 

"Like the Fortuna…" she whispered softly.  

"Exactly," he said just as quietly. 

"You're amazing…" she said in wonder.

Repressing his grin was impossible.  He still didn't think he deserved any praise for this project. He worked on designs, and may have helped build a few sections of the interior,  but in the end his input was nothing.  Still.  Seeing her face, and not needing to explain anything else filled him with a surge of pride that was difficult to push away. 

He decided to let her look at it for as long as she wanted if only so he could absorb the genuine amazement on her pretty face just a bit longer.

An expression that will probably join the rest of the images that haunt him at night… 

His mood plummeted and he hit the switch again to conceal the ship.

"Well… that's it," he mumbled. He expected the weight that was on his shoulders to lift,  but he only felt heavier.  He was already exhausted,  but now he just felt drained, like his body might just give out at any moment.  

She turned slowly to face him and her face quickly fell back into a frown. "Are you okay, Your Grace?"

"No, I haven't slept in four fucking days."

She sighed and grabbed his arm. "You need to get some rest.  Clearly you're exhausted, besides you're breaking your own rule."

He yanked his arm away from her. "Don't touch me, woman."

She flinched and took a step back.  "Your Grace… I'm only trying to help."

"You can help by keeping your dainty little hands to yourself," he grumbled and turned to leave. 

He heard her follow him,  and he made sure to seal the door before making his way back up the steps and sealing that too. 

He went straight to his desk and rifled through his paperwork to try and continue to where he left off before his latest impulsive disaster.

Clorinde returned as well, and stood across from his desk. "Your Grace,  you can't keep working.  You need to rest." 

He tossed his pen down on the desk. "I'm tired, Clorinde… the game is up,  I have nothing left to offer you…" he trailed off and smiled wryly. "Unless of course you want to fuck."

Her eyes widened and a lovely blush filled her cheeks. "Excuse me?"

Of course... 

He shrugged. "Well,  you've been screwing with me for years, the least you could do is put an end to this painfully one sided foreplay and let me have a little fun for once. I promise I won't disappoint," he scowled suddenly.  "Actually,  I might,  I haven't been feeling the best lately, nothing really gets me going anymore, unfortunately, so I guess we'll just have to see."

He really wasn't feeling the best at all the last few weeks. Just his luck too…

"Your Grace, go to sleep already…" 

"I can't,  I have a lot of work to do, and little time to do it, so unless you plan on helping me, just leave me alone already." 

"I can help, but you need to rest first," she insisted again. 

He glared at her and waved her away. "Good night,  Clorinde." 

"I'll tell Sigewinne," she threatened. 

"Go ahead."

She huffed and walked behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. 

His first instinct was to shove her away, but then  she carded her fingers through his hair and he froze. 

She rubbed his scalp gently and slowly slid her fingers down the sides of his neck. It sent a shiver down his spine and heat flooding into his cheeks. She wasn't wearing her gloves, and the patterns she was rubbing into his skin was frying his already scattered brain.

The pressure was just enough to make him feel light headed. 

She started to massage his shoulders though would occasionally slide her hands back up along his neck and through his hair before returning to his shoulders. 

His vision blurred… 

He wasn't sure why,  but the longer he sat there the worse it got. Even his throat started to burn… 

Fighting against it was brutal… 

He tried to tell her to leave him be,  but he couldn't find his voice.  He was actually afraid to speak. 

He didn't want her to stop…

The last time anyone touched him like this was years ago. Which just so happened to be her… almost two decades ago... 

She used to do this to him when they were teenagers, but it never made him feel like this before. Confused, and weak… 

He remembered being annoyed once, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Another time he didn't think much of it all… 

Now he couldn't even see his desk with how terribly his vision was blurred, and his chest absolutely  ached. 

She combed her fingers through his fringe and tried to tilt his head back but he instinctively shied away. He didn't want her to see his face… 

"Why don't you sit on the couch at least," she whispered.  

He didn't say a word as he stood from his desk. All he really cared about was avoiding looking at her, so he didn't notice that she followed him, and as soon as he sat down her fingers were in his hair again, and her chest was pressed against his back.

She squeezed his shoulders and slowly slid her hands down his arms and back up before wrapping her arms around his chest. She held him in a firm embrace that only managed to make the burn in his throat worse.  

She tucked her face in the hollow of his neck and tightened her hold and he nearly broke. 

She held him for a few moments before slowly sliding her hand down his chest. Every few moments she'd slide her hand lower, and his heart started to pound against his ribs.

He didn't think she'd actually do it, he figured she'd pull away. So when she actually slid her hand low enough to rub her hand against him he couldn't repress the weak groan she pulled out of him.  

She palmed him until he was straining in his pants and his heartbeat was screaming in his ears. 

He wanted her to stop teasing him already, to just get it over with,  but he had no idea what possessed her to do this in the first place, and he didn't want her to stop. 

So he resigned himself to dealing with the anticipation. Her breath tickled his neck,  it was warm, it sent shivers down his spine. She teased him until he accidentally let out a sound that he's never made before. It was weak and broken. He would have been embarrassed, but he didn't really have time for it to fester because she finally undid his pants and wrapped her hand around him. 

As soon as she squeezed him she also squeezed his hips with her thighs. He almost lost it right there. 

She twisted her leg around one of his and slowly stroked him from base to tip. Her grip gradually tightened until he was literally trembling like he was still a damn teenager.  

"Do you still like it like this?" She whispered in his ear as she slowly increased her pace.  

He couldn't remember the last time a simple hand job was enough to turn him into a trembling mess. Normally he needed a lot more, even if he was with someone he ended up needing to help himself on many occasions. Sometimes the whole ordeal felt like a chore. 

All he could really do to respond was nod because the pleasure was killing his brain cells. 

She pressed a warm, wet kiss on the side of his neck,  just above one of the bandages he wore to cover his scar.  His breath hitched and he shut his eyes tightly when she gently sucked on the skin. 

He moaned,  prompting her to do it again, and again.  His breath was coming in faster the closer she led him to the edge and he was straining to repress the sounds she kept pulling out of him.  

 "I-I'm close…" he mumbled and readied himself for her to pull away so he could take over,  but she just tightened her grip on him. 

"Go on," she whispered in his ear,  soft and breathy. She pressed another kiss at the back of his ear and gently sucked the lobe in her mouth.  

He shuddered in pleasure and arched into her hand as the heat finally pulled him under and an intense pleasure pulsed through him.  

She stroked him through it, caught the brunt of it in her palm,  but didn't stop once he began to settle. 

He groaned and his head fell back against her shoulder as an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure whirled through his veins. The oversensitivity was making his body twitch, and he dug his fingers into the couch to ground himself. 

She twisted her other leg around him, effectively keeping him pinned to the couch. If he really wanted to he could free himself,  but he was too busy drowning in the intense sensations coursing through his body.  

It didn't take long for the discomfort to completely fade away, allowing the pleasure crackling just beneath the surface to burst back to the forefront. 

Only now he didn't really have the mind to hold back his moans.  

She did everything much slower this time,  but he was also hyper sensitive to every little touch and caress. 

The way her nails gently scratched against his skin just enough, the tear inducing pressure she applied at the end of each stroke. The heat of her lips pressed against his pulse… 

Oh he was spirling fast, and not just physically…

Without interrupting her rhythm she slid her other hand down to cup him in her palm. She gave him a firm squeeze while turning her hand just so, and he was gone.  

He didn't even completely realize he was coming again. The only thing that he could focus on was the pleasure that was literally making him shake. It was as intense as it was blinding. She held him tight the entire time and only let go when he sighed in relief, trembling, panting and weak.

Clorinde pressed a soft kiss on top of his head and carefully pulled away from him. She didn't speak or look him in the eyes, but he could barely keep his eyes open anyway, let alone speak as the exhaustion was quick to consume him.  

He only half noticed her clean him up,  and cover him with something soft. 

It smelled like her. 

The pleasant smell of chai tea was the first sense that he could focus on when he woke. But for the first ten minutes, he couldn't really move. He just fell in and out of consciousness until the aroma lulled him back to sleep. 

The second time he noticed it had to be an oolong blend. In fact, it was the same one from his new Liyuian shipment… 

Which meant it was expensive… 

 … 

He sat up quickly but immediately fell back against the couch as everything spun. He groaned and dragged his hands over his face and sat up again, prepared to yell at whoever was going through his expensive tea but his voice died in his throat when he saw.  

Clorinde was sitting in the guest chair at his desk holding the teacup he favored letting her borrow with a stack of papers in her lap. She looked over to him and he instinctively glanced off to the side to avoid eye contact. 

Embarrassment was quickly eating him up as images from the night prior resurfaced… 

She's still here… why? 

"Good evening,  Your Grace, " she said cordially. 

He frowned in confusion.  "Evening?" He echoed. 

"Hm,  well I suppose it could also be considered very late in the afternoon, you've been asleep all day."

"Oh," he mumbled awkwardly.  He wanted to ask her why she didn't wake him up,  but he decided against it.  He was done arguing with her… it stressed him out,  tired him out. It always left him feeling bitter and depressed anyway… 

He sighed and slouched back against the couch. He finally noticed her cape was draped over him,  haphazardly at this point, but it still gave him a deep pang in his heart. 

Why? Was the biggest question circling around in his head,  but he was too afraid to ask.  He was tired of the heartache.  

"I organized all of your paperwork for you.  I hope you don't mind,  but I also completed much of it.  All you need to do is give it a quick review and add your seal of approval. It shouldn't take too long."

"Thank you," he said honestly. 

She stood up and walked over and offered him a cup of tea. "I also may have sampled your tea… I can pay you back if you wish." 

He accepted the cup and shook his head. "There's no need." 

"Your Grace,  I hate to bring this up so soon, but I've been thinking about it all day… I think we should talk about… um…what happened."

He knew she was going to say that. He knew it just based on her stiff posture. Even so, he immediately felt nauseous and he brought the tea up to his face to try and focus on that instead. 

"There's no need, nothing happened…" he said quickly. He really didn't want to have another painful conversation about how she made a mistake, or that she just took pity on him, and she didn't want him to get attached. 

He would surely die of heartache.  Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse too… the wounds were fresh again. He didn't want her to pour salt on them too. 

Pretending nothing happened would be the best course of action… 

"Oh…" she whispered quietly.  

He couldn't bring himself to look at her at all. "Actually, since you helped so much with the paperwork," he stood up and searched through his desk until he found extra mora to give her.  "Here, take this. There's no need to work without pay."

"You already paid me, Your Grace… I did this to help…"

"I insist."

"Your Grace, I must refuse… you can consider it volunteer work since it wasn't part of my original commission,  or service work for the tea I took…" her voice wavered just a bit. "I don't want it…please don't make me take it,  because then I'll throw it from the top of the Palais Mermonia." 

Hearing the pain in her voice was like a knife in his heart. Did he really just upset her again?

"Very well…" he dropped it on his desk.  "It will be there if you need it."

"I won't."

He risked a glance at her though quickly looked away.  She was frowning rather deeply… of course he upset her again… the guilt once again weighed heavily on his psyche. 

"Clorinde… I'm sorry,  I know I've treated you unfairly over the past few months… I've no excuse."

She put her hand gently over his. "It's okay, I never held anything against you… but please let me apologize for last—"

He pulled his hand away as if he'd been burned. " Nothing happened…" he said quickly. The nausea was back again, this time it was harder to fight back. "Nothing happened,  sweetheart…" he repeated in a whisper. 

From the corner of his eye he saw her nod quickly, much like a toy. "O-Okay… okay…" 

Chapter Text

Clorinde spent a whole week fretting over what she did,  what she dared to do the last time she was at the Fortress of Meropide.  She hadn't been thinking,  she just really wanted to ease the stress and exhaustion that she saw steadily building up in the Duke's eyes.  

He hadn't stopped her, but at the same time,  she began to wonder after the fact if he had been entirely of sound mind.  He'd said he hadn't slept in four days,  and she knew that hallucinations could set in at three… 

Then the way he insisted that nothing had happened…. 

She was going to apologize for ambushing him, so to speak, but he hadn't let her. She was worried that she may have humiliated him… 

Maybe I should just do what he asked for once and pretend like nothing happened… 

She had to see him again soon for her next mission, this one was important, more so than the rest. Pretending nothing happened would ensure that all focus was on the mission...

Right? 

"Clorinde? What ever could be the matter? You've sighed already thrice since I've served you some tea! If it's not to your liking go on and say it! As your Archon it's only fair that you tell me the truth!" 

Clorinde blinked and looked up to find Lady Furina sitting there with her arms crossed. "Oh,  forgive me, Lady Furina,  I'm distracted… the tea itself is lovely as always…" 

She huffed. "Are you sure?  This was a gift from the Duke of Meropide,  so if it's not up to par, then please tell me, I myself thought the quality superb, but you are a trusted ally!  I value your input."

She sighed again without realizing.  "Oh…" 

"So something is wrong with it? Or is it the sweets?" She asked quietly,  her voice soft and hesitant.

Clorinde shook her head.  "No, no,  I just didn't know it was from Wriothesley,  you don't have to share your gift with me,  Lady Furina." 

Lady Furina's eyes lit up like a child's watching cookies cool. "Clorinde! Since when were you on a first name basis with the Duke of Meropide?!" 

Oh dear… 

"Oh,  excuse me, I didn't realize I didn't mean to disrespect…"

Furina pointed at her.  "Now, now,  I've been around long enough to know drama when I see it, what's happened?"

Clorinde shook her head.  "Nothing, Lady Furina, I was just being careless…" she couldn't bother Lady Furina of all people with her predicament! Oh that would be quite the embarrassment… 

Lady Furina seemed to deflate and she clutched her hands together with a sigh. "Oh…" she cleared her throat suddenly and straightened up.  "Well! Don't worry, I shall not tell him of your transgression! But… if you decide you ever change your mind…" she lowered her voice and reached out to her.  "I wouldn't mind lending you my ear, you'll be surprised how well I can keep a secret." 

Clorinde smiled and gave her hand a gentle pat. She hadn't expected such a genuine smile from Lady Furina, and she was honestly touched by her concern.  At the same time,  she could never trouble her over her personal woes. She was her boss,  her Archon , it was simply out of the question. 

"I appreciate your generosity,  Lady Furina, but I could never trouble you over something so miniscule…" she said and stood up just as the clock struck the half hour. "On that note,  it's time for me to walk you home for the evening."

Lady Furina sighed and stood up.  "Ahem! That's right,  I should get to bed,  I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow…" 

Clorinde walked just behind her as was custom as they returned to the Palais Mermonia.  Lady Furina often enjoyed tea at the Opera Epiclese after a show,  and today she'd insisted she join her.  

She figured it must be because Monsieur Neuvillette was occupied with something, though at the same time, usually after the show Lady Furina had tea with the actors or the directors if it was a play she particularly liked,  maybe she didn't care for the play this time? 

She didn't dare bring it up. 

Once at Furina's chambers she turned around to bid Clorinde farewell in the classic dramatic fashion she always did,  but this time she didn't prance off into her room like she typically did. 

"Clorinde, if I may speak plainly for just a moment… Whatever plagues you,  I wish to remind you that not all of us are bestowed with divine grace—" She frowned and cleared her throat. "I mean to say,  time typically waits for no one, and at times even I—" her frown deepened and she turned away. "Good night!"

Clorinde stood there for a moment as the door shut behind her. The words Lady Furina offered her repeating in her head. 

She wasn't exactly sure what Lady Furina was trying to say, but she figured it had to do with the rain cloud she'd been figuratively fighting over the past week… 

Was she that obvious that even Lady Furina could tell something was wrong? Or was she more observant than she appeared? 

Clorinde hoped it was the latter, because that would at least mean no one else knew she was dealing with such turmoil… 

She  decided to head to the market to run a few errands. Her kitchen was in desperate need of supplies again, and it would be a nice distraction. 

She was in the middle of deciding which basket of apples to get when a whiny female voice caught her attention.  Why it did was unfortunately revealed just as quickly. 

"Why not?  It's been so long since I've seen you,  Your Grace~"

"Like I said,  I believe you're mistaken."

"Aw, stop teasing me! We used to have quite a lot of fun together~ What are you doing around here anyway? Miss me?"

"I've got no such memories, doll, leave me alone," he sighed.  The irritation in his voice was clear now.

Clorinde frowned and bit the inside of her cheek.  She didn't want to interfere,  but hearing how irritated he sounded was also making her irritated.  

"Well,  I don't mind reminding you,  Your Grace~"

"Don't touch me."

"Aw come on, don't be like that!"

"Don't.  Touch.  Me,  I won't say it again," he grumbled.  

Clorinde turned the corner so fast she had to adjust her hat. 

She found some random blonde with her hands on Wriothesley's chest, and sliding inappropriately low. He was holding a box, leaving his own hands occupied.  

"That's assault, woman," she growled, not bothering with pleasantries.  " And on an honored member of the high court?" 

The woman gasped and jumped away.  "Oh,  I'm saved!  Help! Help, he was trying to ra—"

Clorinde slapped her so hard she fell on the ground with a hollow thud, like a body dropping dead. Her hand stung. It felt like she'd just bruised it.  The woman didn't even scream, nor did she wake up. Thankfully,  her corset was tight enough that she could see her chest move with each breath... 

Clorinde sighed in relief.

The few onlookers nearby stopped to stare, their eyes wide. 

"And false accusations…" she muttered. Oh she was furious!

She picked up the woman and dragged her away from the scene. Some gardes ran over,  citing the woman's previous scream for help. The first garde member she laid eyes on she marched up to him and shoved the woman into his arms. 

"Take this woman to a station to be checked in for assault, and sexual harrasment. I'll stop by when I'm free to properly log everything, and make any needed adjustments"

"Yes ma'am!" 

As soon as they took the woman away she sighed in relief. She was still angry.  She wanted to punch her in the face. She reached up to adjust her hat only to realize it wasn't on her head.  

Sighing once again,  she turned around to retrace her steps to try and find it.  

She returned to the scene to find Wriothesley still there. The look of shock was still on his face, but he was also holding her hat…

As soon as she stopped in front of him he smiled sheepishly. "Haha… I uh—" He adjusted the box so he was awkwardly holding it with one arm, it looked heavy, and a few gears could be seen peeking out from the top.  "Aha, uh, my knight in shining armor has returned," he chuckled. 

Clorinde scoffed. Of course he'd make fun of her… in hindsight she knew he could have handled himself.  He was more than capable… Why did she do that? Why didn't she just walk away? 

She tried to take her hat back from him,  but he didn't let go. She glared at him and reached to tug it out of his hand but failed to do so. Her annoyance spiked. She had to get out of here so she could blow off some steam.

"Let go."

"No."

 "If you'd have kept as tight a hold on your bitch as you are my hat then this wouldn't have happened!" She hissed under her breath.  

Even as she said it, Clorinde couldn't believe that she did. She had no right to comment let alone object, but just imagining the possibility of him spending time with one of those delicate noble women again made her feel sick. Especially because they apparently had no respect for him! 

She was jealous, and pissed! The shame burnt her to a crisp, but she couldn't stop herself from making that snide comment. 

Surprisingly,  he didn't react to her comment,  and he also had a stupid look on his face that she couldn't quite decipher. The best she could come up with was, an awkward smile. It didn't make sense why he was looking at her like that though... 

"Fine. Keep it," she muttered and turned to leave.

He followed after her.  "Clorinde, wait…"

She kept walking.  She didn't want to accidentally say something she didn't mean.  She was still so angry.  She was angry with herself,  on how she handled the situation,  and she was angry at him. 

And she knew she shouldn't be.  

She shouldn't be mad at him but she was! 

Just how often did he used to see that woman? She knew it wasn't due to her atrocious attitude. 

Probably just for the lay…  

That only made her more upset. 

Her eyes started to burn and she walked faster. 

The fact that she was still upset over it made her more angry, that the thought still hurt. The pain dug deep in her heart, and she hated it because she knew she shouldn't be feeling this way.  She was nothing to him... not anymore.  She ended that her damn self... 

"Clorinde, wait!" He said again and grabbed her wrist and forced her to turn around. 

"Let go, Your Grace, go find another floozy to fuck, your current toy will be in local containment for at least a month,  hopefully more. Unfortunately for you she won't be sent to the Fortress," she spat out and ripped her hand out of his grip.

Gods why was she so upset??

He laughed, he didn't seem phased, and that only pissed her off more. 

"Uh, so, I've got a room in the city for the night… I was in town picking up some important parts for Jurieu," he explained quickly. "Wanna stop by for tea?" For some reason he sounded breathless.  

She snatched her hat out of his hand. "No."

"Please?" 

"..."

The room he rented was much simpler than she anticipated it to be, but she was also still so upset that she couldn't really remember how she even got here, or how it looked on the outside.

She felt like she needed to go for a run.  

She didn't even realize he pushed a tea cup in her hands until the heat from the porcelain started to seep through her gloves and sting. 

She blinked and looked down to inspect the lightly colored liquid. 

She sighed and brought it up to her face and tried to focus on the scent alone, but his presence was throwing her off. 

"This is camomile?" She asked after a beat. 

"Mhm, it's good for calming nerves."

She glared at him. "I don't need to calm down, Your Grace," she did. It was embarrassingly obvious, but he didn't need to point it out! Let alone serve her tea for it!

He leaned down closer to her face. "Thank you for helping me today, Clorinde," he said quietly.

She was surprised by the sincerity in not only his eyes,  but his tone as well.

He smiled, genuinely,  and heat immediately filled her cheeks. When was the last time he looked at her like that? She tore her eyes away from his and downed the tea. It burned, especially on the way down,  but it was too late to do anything about it… 

"Good night, Your Grace," she said and set the cup down and turned to leave. 

He grabbed her wrist again, except this time, much gentler. She risked a glance over her shoulder and found herself frozen in place. Her chest ached, but she blamed it on the tea. 

The look on his face matched the turmoil within her.  She didn't really have a name for it, but she resonated so deeply with it. With him…  

He tugged her towards him ever so slightly and the next thing she knew her hands were clinging to his vest. She traced her hands slowly down his chest,  following the path that woman burned into him.  

Clorinde stopped herself.  She wanted to erase any remnant that woman left on him, but at the same time, she couldn't just touch him. Not again. Not like that woman did…

Her legs felt weak.

She blinked, and she was looking at the intricate details of his belt. "C-Can I?" She murmured as she hesitantly looked up at him from her place on the cold hardwood floor.

Oh she was so ashamed of herself.  How could she ask for such a thing so quickly after what happened? She had no idea if he was disturbed by what happened, or mad at her for interrupting. Yes, he thanked her for supposedly helping,  but she was doubtful still...

"Please?..." She whispered, hesitant, shameless. 

Apparently the jealousy burned brighter than her shame… 

"Okay…" 

Her hands were trembling, but she still managed to undo his belt faster than she thought she would. She tossed her gloves aside and gently palmed him over his trousers before moving to rub her hands against his hips. She was stuck between wanting to engrave every little thing in her memory and just rushing to the finish line. But even as a teen he never rushed her, so she settled with what her heart wanted to do… 

Slowly, she untucked his shirt just enough to expose his stomach, and she pressed her palm flat against his lower abs. She closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against his hip as she slowly traced each defined muscle. 

She remembered how thin he used to be, how ghostly his skin looked clinging to the edge of his hips. She did her best to help him, but at the time she could only do so much… 

Even so,  she thought he was beautiful then, and she thought he was beautiful now. 

Clorinde pulled his pants down just enough to expose his hips, and wasted no time in pressing her face against him. She dared herself to place a kiss there,  just like she once did, because he once admitted that the moments leading up to the act sometimes felt best… because often he just didn't feel well enough for more.  

She figured that must no longer be the case,  as he was healthy and vibrant now.  But this was how she loved him,  and she never experienced a different way, could never bring herself to try for anyone else… 

She placed more kisses along his hip and even more along the edge of his stomach.  Occasionally she sucked gently, but didn't dare to leave a bruise. She never could. 

Not when he used to bruise so easily. 

By the time she had her hand wrapped around him,  she'd nudged him back to sit on the edge of the bed, and his hands were tangled in her hair. 

She liked it.  It was new.  Briefly she wondered when he started doing that, and her stomach once again dropped. Was he asked to do it by someone?  She knew from whispers amongst the other gardes that many were into being handled a certain way.  Could one of them have asked him?

The bite of jealousy once again burned at her chest, and she pressed her lips against the base of him and finally left her first mark.  

She liked how his gasp melted into a moan,  a delicious one that sent heat straight between her legs. So she did it again, eager to elicit more of those sounds out of him. She pressed kisses slowly up the length of him,  purposely following a vein that was beginning to strain. Once she neared the tip of him she let him rub against her lips, let him coat her like balm.

"F-Fuck…" 

Hearing him swear pulled her mind out of the haze of desire that had taken over her.  She finally glanced up to meet his heated gaze, and gave him a gentle kiss right over his leaking slit.

He cursed again, lower, and under his breath. His eyes were so bright, but the desire that darkened them made her tremble. The pink in his cheeks was lovely, she loved that the most. 

She kept her eyes locked with his as she carefully allowed him in her mouth. She sucked on him gently,  pressed her tongue firmly against him.  His breathy moan went straight to her core, made her insides clench with want.  

He cursed yet again, asked the celestial bodies for strength that she knew he already had. 

Clorinde pulled off him, but purposely made sure to increase the pressure of her lips around him so the wet pop cut through the silence.  

"Language, Your Grace," she whispered,  allowing her breath to brush against him. 

His face was redder than before.  "Mh, you burned your mouth pretty bad,  didn't you?" He murmured and gently grabbed her face. 

Clorinde was taken aback by his comment,  but now that she actually focused on it,  her mouth did feel hot.  It did hurt just a bit, but it wasn't something she couldn't ignore. 

"It's fine, I'm fine," she said, worried he'd want her to stop.

He glanced down at her hand and grabbed it.  There was a bruise on it. 

"What happened?"

Clorinde grimaced as that woman's face popped up in her head.  "Justice," was all she could think to say. 

His eyes widened and he huffed out a small laugh,  though didn't respond.

He pressed his palm over her bruised hand. With his other hand, he gently slid his thumb over her lips. He pushed with just enough pressure to part her lips, and she instinctively opened up and he slid his thumb in her mouth.  He pressed down against her tongue with just enough pressure to make her heart race. He rubbed her gently,  and she felt a thin layer of frost coat her tongue and her palm.  

It was surprisingly soothing, but it also felt good. It made her shiver. He was also looking into her eyes the whole time. It felt nearly as intimate as what she'd been doing just a few moments prior. She also really liked the idea of him using his magic on her... so gently too... 

She sucked on his finger until he pulled his hand away. The temperature change made her mouth water so she decided to take advantage of it. 

She let him in her mouth again,  except this time,  she gradually let more of him in with each beat that echoed in her ears.  

He shivered himself, and moaned her name, and his hand once again tangled into her hair. She couldn't take all of him in her mouth, not like she used to,  but he didn't seem to mind, and she made up for what she couldn't fit with her hand. 

But he trembled the same,  sighed her name with similar reverence, and oh did it feed her greedy heart.  

This time when he tapped her shoulder she dug her fingers into his thigh, and didn't let go.  She figured it wouldn't be a first for him, but it would be for her, and she wanted this.  She wanted him to watch her do it, because she figured this probably wouldn't happen again… 

The heat was what she noticed first, followed by the pressure at her scalp as his grip on her hair tightened. He pulled her down,  whether on purpose or not,  it didn't matter to her because she let him.  She let her body go pliant as the rush of his release made him shake, as the heat of it sped down her throat. She got a bit light headed,  from lack of air or the pressure on her scalp, she wasn't sure, but spots began to dot her vision. But she didn't fight it,  she let him rock into her until the last of it and he pulled her off suddenly.  

She coughed and gasped for breath, the ringing in her ears doubled in volume. She still felt woozy even after wiping her face and a few deep, clear breaths,  so she leaned her head on his thigh while everything slowly stopped spinning. 

She realized after a moment that he'd been apologizing to her… 

"It's fine,  I-I'm fine," she repeated,  bleary.  She also could barely sit still. The ache between her legs was strong enough to make her thighs tremble,  but she ignored it, even as she stood.  

She wiped her eyes clear and dug her pocket mirror out of her skirt to look herself over.  She didn't look as bad as she thought.

"C-Clorinde… wait,  are you—" 

"Don't worry, Your Grace," Clorinde murmured as she glared at her reflection. "I remember," she said even as that sick feeling returned, the same one from the first night.

She had wanted so much to ask him for another chance,  but it was clear that wouldn't happen… she'd ruined all possible roads to redemption. 

She closed the mirror and forced a smile as she turned to him. 

His face was still that lovely pink, but he was frowning. She didn't want him to worry. She didn't want him to think he owed her anything. He didn't. He never did… she was the selfish one. The shameless one…

"Nothing happened." 

Chapter Text

Originally,  Wriothesley thought a bit of evening exercise was a good idea.  It'd been quite a while since he used his free time for something positive,  especially considering how busy he's been. The fatui kids were already in the Fortress,  and it was only a matter of time before everything came to a tipping point. 

Not to mention he needed to get himself to refocus. Clorinde was supposed to be here today to go over last minute adjustments to the mission… 

But it was extremely difficult not to keep his mind from wandering… 

He sighed and hit the punching bag in front of him even harder.  

That was so unlike her… I never would have expected her to interfere like that… he thought for probably the fifteenth time today alone. 

He's never had anyone step in to defend him, especially so brazenly. When he needed it, no one was there, so he learned how to take care of himself, had to. He never thought it would feel so nice having someone look out for him unprompted. To have someone protect him… 

Shs literally flustered him! 

 Just thinking about the incident made his face feel hot.  The way she swept around the corner, seemingly out of nowhere.  The anger on her pretty face… 

He didn't get it.  Clorinde was typically very calm and collected, but the satisfyingly loud slap that sounded through the air when her palm connected with Emma's face suggested otherwise.  

Ugh… 

That shouldn't have turned him on the way it did, but damn… he was actually a bit embarrassed over it. 

He couldn't even remember what she said when she yelled at him because he was too busy trying not to ask her to carry him off into the sunset… figuratively…

He had been gaping at her like an idiot.

Was she jealous?  There's no way… 

Then there was what happened afterwards…

The image of Clorinde on her knees literally begging to please him was unfortunately seared into his brain. 

 He's only ever let two other women attempt that aside from her. Both times he hated it, and he stopped it in the middle or before.  He hated looking at their faces, and he could never get into the feeling itself.  But even as a teen he couldn't remember hating it… 

But then Clorinde made him come so hard she left him stupid… then she actually left. 

He tried not to think about that part too much,  but it was practically impossible because he still had love bites on his damn dick of all places. 

Nothing happened. 

Once again, Why? Was what he kept going back to. At first he wondered if it was just another way to mess with him, but she never asked for anything back. Not even for him to return the favor. She just… left. 

Nothing happened, nothing happened.

He didn't know what she wanted anymore.  Did she only say that because he said it before? Was he imagining how troubled she looked? Did she like the fact that she literally had him by the balls?

Because she did. 

Oh,  she had him so good that if she asked him to get her off out of the blue he couldn't see himself declining.

Because he wanted to… 

He's been longing to at least hold her in his arms again for ages now. He thought he'd locked away such wants but their last two encounters put him in complete shambles.  

Ugh. He missed her. He didn't want to admit it,  but it happened.  

He missed that woman so much. He didn't know what to do with himself. 

He tried so hard to push her away, to keep her at arm's length. No matter how hard he tried to see her as heartless and cold,  that image of her crumbled easier than a decrepit tower as soon as he gave up trying to maintain it.

Was she actually telling the truth when she said she missed him?

He didn't want to believe it, but he hoped for it anyway… He was ruined.

He didn't just want to hold her, it was damn near a need. 

His dreams went from being depressing and painful to shameless and a different kind of pain so fast he felt like he had whiplash… 

The whole situation was making him feel both confused and frustrated on a daily basis. 

They didn't just used to be friends,  she used to be his best friend,  his sweetheart. He loved her so much back then… He thought he was going to marry her, and there was a time in his life where he didn't even consider an alternative.

I still love her… 

No! 

Does she still want me?... 

Nothing happened, nothing happened, nothing happened… 

He hit the punching bag a bit too hard without realizing and it swung back and hit him in the face, making him stumble back. 

"Oof—" he stepped aside and sighed heavily.

"Oho, getting sloppy, Your Grace?  Too much time at your desk, huh?"

Wriothesley pursed his lips and turned to find Roussimoff standing there with a grin. "I've been busy," he said as an explanation. 

"Well,  since you're here, why don't we spar?" 

This wasn't the first time he asked him.  Each time,  he declined because he was preoccupied with something,  though mostly it was because—

"Or you could invite Miss Double D's," he grinned.  

—Ooh because he wanted to punch him in the face!

He hated how Roussimoff had his hands all over Clorinde when she'd visited the pankration ring. The fact that she let him probably irritated him more.

He still remembered the pleased look on her face when he rubbed his grubby mits down her arms… why? 

Ooh, he hated how smug that made Roussimoff, he'd been insufferable ever since. 

The part that he hated the most was that he couldn't say anything about it because Clorinde wasn't anything to him anymore! She'd made that clear herself a few years ago… 

But thinking about it still made him jealous… 

He hated how he'd barely been able to touch her himself and she just let some guy she didn't know touch her.  Oh,  but wait, it was a massage.

As if he didn't know what every guy in the damn Fortress would be thinking in that same moment. 

Wriothesley scowled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah you do! That sexy babe that was tailing you a while ago! You know, tall, long hair, longer legs. C'mon, don't tell me you didn't even notice the rack on that woman,  I'm telling you, crafted by the gods she is. I don't think I've seen such amazing hips before, I didn't think the guys were right, but I guess she really isn't your type, looks like I've lost some credits… At least do me a solid and send her my way next time you see her, she's going to filled up with my c—"

He punched him. Hard. 

The crunch of his nose against his knuckles was far more satisfying than he thought it'd be and he smirked. He was lucky he wasn't wearing his gauntlet… 

Unfortunately he didn't fall down,  but he also wasn't trying to kill the guy.  Though he nearly did fall, and watching him stumble back trying to regain his balance like he was on ice was just as satisfying. 

"Oops, would you look at that?  I missed the bag," Wriothesley mumbled,  not really caring if he believed him or not.

Roussimoff scoffed. "Ow! Oi, you got an actual problem?!" He marched up to him and got in his face.  "What's the big idea, punk?  You want to settle this like real men?"

Wriothesley scowled and turned his face away,  not bothering to play into his staredown. "Ugh, I hate the smell of beer breath, maybe I should revoke alcohol privileges from employees…" 

Roussimoff sputtered incoherently. "You— you—"

"Hm. If that happens I'll be sure to cite you as a reason so everyone knows… anyway, you should get that checked out," he purposely glanced at his bloodied nose. "Be nice to Miss Sigewinne, or we will have an actual problem," Wriothesley said. "And don't get blood on my floors, or I'll make you clean it up yourself... and the whole Fortress while you're at it."

Roussimoff scowled though quickly ran off towards the infirmary holding his nose. 

 Wriothesley watched him go and let out a huge sigh once he was alone. As good as it felt punching him,  it didn't feel as good as telling him to keep his hands off Clorinde would have felt… but that wasn't his call. As much as he hated it. 

He grimaced and put the equipment away before jumping in the shower to cool off. 

Unfortunately all he had to do was look down and he was reminded of her,  of the way her heavy violet eyes looked up at him when she gripped him… then the small whines she made as she slid him in and out of her mouth.  As if pleasing him pleased her… 

Not for the first time since he's last seen her,  his hand wandered down to ease the ache. 

His fantasies as of late consisted of things they did as teenagers except with the twist of her current gorgeous self being the star, and if they'd gone just a bit further… 

They never went all the way though, she wanted to wait, and he only really cared about spending time with her anyway. Anything more was a bonus he never turned down. 

But she did like to ride him. She'd get herself off by rubbing herself against him,  and if she wanted him to crumble fast, she'd lift her skirt so he could watch… 

Now he couldn't stop thinking about what it'd be like for her to truly ride him… 

She'd probably still keep things slow,  she liked to savor it as she said once,  but he liked the idea of her losing control and using those strong legs of hers to fuck herself on him. 

She was extremely athletic, and he's heard the rumors regarding the difference between those that were not.  He'd want her to come with him inside her still. He could literally only imagine what it'd feel like to feel her strong muscles squeeze him while she moaned his name. 

He bit his lip to stifle his groan as he tightened his grip on himself, wondering. 

He imagined taking over and continuing to fuck her through it. Continuing even once her eyes filled with tears from sensitivity, exactly as she'd done to him when she got him off on his couch. But he'd be gentler, like she was, because the main goal was always to please.

She'd let him like he let her,  because that's just how things always were between them. He trusted that woman with his life. He was starting to think that she still trusted him with hers… 

At the end he'd kiss her. Like she did him,  except he'd make sure to taste her lips. Did she want that too?  Had she wanted to give him a proper kiss afterwards? 

He'd wanted her to. He wished she had. He wanted to taste the desire on her lips. He knew it was there.  He didn't miss how she grinded herself against him with each stroke. The way she squeezed him with her thighs when he came…

Hell, he would have pulled her off her knees the second time to kiss her if she hadn't gotten up so quickly... 

"Oh, Clo…" he mumbled as he reached the tipping point. He bit his hand to stop the moan he couldn't really hold back as he fucked into his fist, coming in bursts into the drain… 

As soon as sensible thought returned he scowled and turned the hot water completely off. 

 .

.

Clorinde was standing outside of his office when he returned from the pankration ring. 

He swore she wasn't supposed to show for another hour,  but there she was,  standing there with her arms crossed and a small bag in one of her hands.  

"Miss Clorinde, you're early," he said as he opened up his office door for her. He offered her a friendly smile as if she hadn't swallowed his dick last time he saw her. As if he hadn't just jacked off thinking of her… 

She walked in with a quiet thank you.  "Early is on time, Your Grace," she said once the door closed behind him. 

He chuckled and shook his head. "Of course, I should have known, well forgive me for being late," he said as he followed her up to his main office.  "I hope you didn't wait long…" he didn't even have time to shave his face because he'd been too occupied… 

A woman once told him he looked like a pirate after he'd missed a day or two, and he made sure not to miss a day since, well tried his best not to. 

She shook her head. "No, Sir."

He sighed and took out a map from his desk while he absently tied his tie. It was a detailed look of all the pipes that ran through the fortress. He wanted to point out some important areas to her once more.  The risks were much higher now than they used to be,  and he really didn't want to send her to her potential demise, but… his options were limited. 

"Here, Your Grace,  I brought you some tea from Liyue. There was a traveling merchant in town today,  so I grabbed some for you on the way," she set the bag on his desk. 

He glanced between her face and the bag. He couldn't read too much from her expression, but he could tell she wasn't looking at him directly. Her eyes were focused higher up closer to his eyebrows… 

"Thank you," he said and took the bag to inspect which tea it was. It turned out to be the same kind that she'd used when he slept in all day the last time she was here… after she'd—

No!

Ugh his face felt hot. 

He distinctly remembered telling her not to worry about it. He sighed and took it out of the bag.  He wasn't going to argue about it though.  It wasn't worth it. 

"Perfect! I'll make us some now," he said and set the map down to heat some water. 

"Your Grace,  it's meant to—"

"I know, thank you."

She bit her lip and didn't say anything more. 

Wriothesley was stuck between asking her what was wrong and leaving her be.  

He didn't really want to accidentally start a fire, but he was also tired of trying so hard to fight his instincts… 

He swore he was hard wired to care about her.

"Are you alright, Clorinde?" He asked, his voice much softer than he thought it'd be. 

She finally looked him in the eyes and nodded. "Yes, I just couldn't help but notice your hair is wet," she frowned.  "You didn't go into the sea again, did you?"

On mention of his hair he absently raked his hand through it,  brushing it out of his face. Since his hair was still damp, the majority of it stayed brushed back.  

"Oh,  sorry, no,  I didn't, I just uh– took a shower, I'm not as presentable as I wanted to be," he said with a slight smile. 

Her cheeks flushed to the color of a rainbow rose. "Oh, uh… forgive me, I hope I didn't offend you."

He frowned. "No, no, it's quite alright," he sighed and turned to grab the tea. "Speaking of the surrounding seawater… the readings have only gotten worse,  and the reader looks like it might burst," he bit the inside of his cheek and set her teacup in front of her. 

She picked up the cup and let the stream warm her face.  Despite the conversation, she smiled, only briefly, but he rather liked the idea that a simple cup of tea could bring a smile to her face. 

"Do you have a plan?" She asked quietly. 

He nodded.  "Thankfully, the gods blessed me with the power of cryo, funny enough I got my vision as soon as I checked in at the Fortress, maybe this is why they've kept me alive all this time, " he smiled wryly. "To be the last gate…maybe I'll drop dead the moment I fulfill my purpose." 

She frowned deeply.  "Your Grace,  please don't say such things…" 

"Ah, there's no other way to look at it… Anyway, the plan is for me to freeze the gates shut, meanwhile I need a messenger to go get Neuvillette, if worse comes to worse, I believe he can stop it. If not…" he sighed. "Well,  all of Fontaine will be doomed."

Even as he said it,  it still sounded so unreal. Yet he saw the reader freaking out, there was no other explanation. 

"Clorinde,  you're one of the fastest people I know,  I need you to be the messenger.  Once you get to the Palais Mermonia,  I need you to climb to the highest place that building offers you…"

Her brows furrowed.  "And then what?"

He sighed and grabbed his own tea and sank in his chair.  "And then… wait,  if I can… I'll come get you,  but you'll know one way or another…" 

He felt like he was saying goodbye to her. But that wasn't the worst part,  the worst part was coming up much sooner… 

"On that note,  unfortunately I'm going to have to ask you to risk your life,  you may need to swim in the sea during the upcoming mission.  I've gone over every possibility a hundred times over… there's potential you might get sick or… worse," he bit her inside of his cheek.

A world without Clorinde… 

At one point he thought it would be a good thing,  but just in the context that she wasn't in his world.  He never once wanted her gone,  dead… 

If something happened to her, on his watch… he'd never forgive himself.  He felt sick thinking about it. He was only ever okay with losing her knowing that she existed happily in some context. Even if it meant away from him. 

He wanted to tell her he hired someone else,  but he had no one else he could trust with such an assignment,  especially not at the last minute. 

He tightened his grip on the cup and swallowed around the lump in his throat.  "It will be very dangerous,  sweetheart…" he whispered.  

She finally looked him in the eyes.  "I'm still on board, you don't have to worry,  Wriothesley…" she said just as quietly. "I'll get it done."

Heat crept up the back of his neck. He didn't think hearing her say his name again would literally make his heart race,  but it did.

He wanted to ask her so much,  but finding the appropriate time to do so was challenging.  The main thing he needed to know was, why. Why did she do the things she did?  And what did she really want from him? 

But all that had to wait. 

"I knew I could count on you," he said. 

Seeing her burst into his office after hours of not knowing if she was safe,  of worrying over her while having to deal with the annoying kids running around the Fortress made him forget his train of thought. The stress had been getting to him… 

"Ah, Clorinde—"

You're safe!

Are you okay? 

Do you feel well? 

Welcome back! 

"—my door."

She only spared him a glance,  but she was frowning.

Did she get hurt?

She was safe,  that's all that mattered. Oh he was so relieved. He wanted to throw everyone out of the office just so he could talk to her and make sure she was alright. And maybe pull her into a proper hug because he was starving for it at this point. Literally deprived. 

Luckily Sigewinne stepped in when she did because he almost punched a kid in the face… 

The whole situation was a headache, he was just glad when everyone finally left, and it was just him and Clorinde. 

"Want some tea?" He asked once the peace returned to the room. 

 "Not particularly, we had some earlier."

He scoffed. He didn't expect her to decline. There wasn't anything wrong with multiple cups a day. Besides, he needed something to calm his nerves.

"That was hours ago!"

She regarded him for a bit and sighed.  "If you want to drink some that badly, just say so." 

Why does she look so upset?... 

"Fine, I'd like to get some tea. Want me to get you a cup too, since I've already made it?" He asked as he gestured to the kettle. 

 She shrugged. "Eh, might as well then, I suppose…" 

Wriothesley pursed his lips and set her cup in front of her. "Thank you for your help today,  Miss Clorinde."

She nodded and adjusted her hat.  It was the only thing on her that was dry. He figured she'd set it aside before diving into the ocean to rescue the fatui boy. 

"There's no need for thanks,  Your Grace," she said. 

Wriothesley chuckled to himself and leaned against his desk.  "No thanks?  Just pay? Well alright," he sighed and took a pouch of mora from his drawers. "Here you are, thank you for your services M'lady."

Clorinde frowned and glanced at the pouch in his hand. "I don't want that," she said and turned her head away. 

He frowned as well.  They'd agreed on a payment,  and she seemed fine enough before the mission.  Did she feel unwell? She said that she was fine, but now he wasn't sure. 

"Well… what do you want,  Clorinde?" He dropped the bag of mora besides the other one that was meant for her on his desk. "I can't figure it out, tell me so I can stop wondering all the damn time." 

She frowned and crossed her arms.  "I've been back for at least thirty minutes by now and you have yet to ask me if I'm okay…"

That's not quite what I meant… 

"You said you were fine before," he said, confused.  

"Well yes, but, you didn't even question it… I could have died today, and you'd be none the wiser," her frown deepened. "And, I'm still waiting on that towel…"

Wriothesley could only stare at her in surprise. Did she really think he wouldn't care if she got hurt, let alone died?

She really thinks I wouldn't care?... Is that why she agreed so quickly despite my warning? Why did she think I was warning her in the first place?

"Ah, you are right, where are my manners?" He turned and pushed the hidden switch on his wall that led to his room. One of his bookshelves slowly swung out of the way, revealing the entrance. He disappeared inside the inky space and returned a short time later with a neatly folded white towel.

He held it out to her. "Here you are," he purposely held the towel close to his chest so she would have to walk right up to him in order to grab it.

As soon as she reached for the towel he snatched her wrist in his hand and yanked her closer. 

Even if she didn't know, he knew what he wanted. He's always known what he wanted. 

And he was tired of being passive.

Chapter Text

"Well… what do you want,  Clorinde?" He dropped the bag of mora besides the other one that was meant for her on his desk. "I can't figure it out, tell me so I can stop wondering all the damn time." 

She frowned and crossed her arms.  "I've been back for at least thirty minutes by now and you have yet to ask me if I'm okay…"

"You said you were fine before."

"Well yes, but, you didn't even question it… I could have died today,  and you'd be none the wiser," her frown deepened.  "And, I'm still waiting on that towel…"

She sounded like an immature child,  but the words came out before she could really think about them.  And she was getting tired of not properly expressing herself in front of him in the name of professionalism. She knew things about him that many others didn't,  she's called him friend once, she was more to him once, but did that give her any leverage above others?

Even if it didn't sound right,  even though it seemed entitled,  she really wanted it to mean something…  

Besides, she was actually shivering, but she was doing her best to hide it. 

"Ah, you are right, where are my manners?" He turned and pushed a hidden switch on his wall and one of his bookshelves slowly swung out of the way, revealing a large space within.

He disappeared inside the dark room and returned a short time later with a neatly folded white towel.

He held it out to her. "Here you are."

Clorinde was still taken aback over the fact that he opened up a room that was meant to be secret in front of her so casually that she didn't realize how close he held the towel to his body.

She had to walk right up to him to even be able to reach it, and right as she grabbed it he swiftly grabbed her wrist. All she had time to do was  gasp in surprise before he pulled her off balance and she stumbled right into his chest. 

She tried to pull away but his grip on her wrist tightened and she realized that she couldn't free herself with her strength alone.

"What are you doing?" She hissed between her teeth. 

"I would have noticed, " he whispered and tightened his grip on her.  "I hated sending you in there."

There was a deadly seriousness in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. Though it could very well be the fact that she was still soaked to the bone. But his proximity was giving her goosebumps.  She could feel heat radiating off of him.  

"I insisted," she whispered back. She had . Duty called, and she knew she could do it, so why was she only now complaining about it? She knew the risk. 

"You did."

Clorinde made the mistake of looking him in the eyes, and at this proximity she was able to see the alluring ring of gold that hugged his pupils. Like the last rays of sun along the horizon. Or better yet, the ring around the moon during a solar eclipse.

She was starting to feel light headed. 

 "Release me," she whispered, still unable to tear her eyes away from him.

His grip only tightened. The pressure from his hold was starting to be uncomfortable.  It didn't exactly hurt, but it did feel like, if he twisted his hand just so, he could shatter her bones. 

"Careful, Your Grace, I could shock you right now and I'll make sure it's very painful," she threatened.  

He had the audacity to smirk. "You could ." 

Clorinde narrowed her eyes. Was he goading her? Or did he know she didn't actually want to hurt him? A dangerous wager indeed, but she didn't like to lose…

She let another beat of silence drag by before she gave him a shock just hard enough to sting. 

His eyes widened, and he grit hit teeth, but otherwise didn't react. She increased the voltage just a bit more to where most would jump away in pain.

"Ugh… that hurts, ya know," he grunted, but made no move to make her stop.  

"Then let me go."

"Not a chance, Clorinde" he whispered. "I let you go three times already. Three. Times, I'm not doing it again."

"What are you talking about?" She snapped,  annoyed.  

 "You've backed me into a corner, sweetheart, and I'm going to take back the ground that's mine." 

"I'm not your sweetheart," she shot back quickly. She wanted to sound annoyed,  but she just somehow sounded breathless. The implications of what he said only set in after the fact. Did he mean… 

He held her gaze for a few beats and slowly leaned down closer to her until he was right in her face. 

"You were once…" he said softly, sending goosebumps down her spine.

She stopped. 

As soon as she did he released her wrist, and  reached over to press his palm against his desk. She heard a loud shock from the electricity she shot through him transferring. 

He didn't even wince. 

The next moment he was gently cupping her cheek in what felt like a vastly stronger hold. Another shiver shook through her as the heat from his palm scorched her face. He was right, and that he said it out loud only solidified it as fact.

She was his once.  It was a lifetime ago.  They were both young and full of hope, of dreams. But things didn't end how she wished it did. And there was a time where she blamed herself every day for what happened. 

Maybe it's not too late ,  she often found herself thinking,  but it was.  She made sure to bury the hatchet a few years prior. 

Didn't she?

Clorinde found herself completely lost in his eyes. They were just as she remembered,  perhaps even prettier if anything, framed gently by long dark lashes that curled up just so at the ends.

He looked so tired.  She could see the dark shadows under his eyes, the faint wrinkles that sat at the corners.  

She was also drawn to the dark hair that framed his face. How full it was. She couldn't remember him having so much of it before. She wanted to know if it was as soft as it looked. Or was it coarser than it seemed? The gray streaks also caught her attention, and the sections that shined at the root.

There was more than she remembered seeing on him a few years ago,  but it didn't detract from his appearance. It was like silver trim embellishing fine metalwork. Subtle, soft, and painfully beautiful.  

It all reminded her of the time she'd lost, and the time she foolishly forfeited, and she couldn't help but wonder,  what did he see when he looked at her? 

Did he see the dent between her brows from frowning too much? Or the scar near her jaw from a close call? Did he notice the streak of silver in her own hair? The one she used to pluck out of shame when she first noticed it a year ago until it grew much too big to do so… But now she wondered,  could she wear it as well as him?

Just thinking about how long it's been brought pain to her chest, and her eyes stung until his handsome visage blurred. What she wouldn't give to have that time back, to fix her mistakes, to start over…

Would they be in Mondstadt together like they had dreamed about? Maybe she'd even have little ones to take care of... 

Oh she'd have wanted them to take after him, and his heart… 

But they were as good as strangers,  at least she tried to convince herself of that,  but something he said a few years prior jumped to the forefront of her mind. 

We don't have to be, darling… 

Not for the first time, she wondered if she had been too hasty in pushing him away.  She regretted saying those things to him.  She wanted another chance so much. She wanted a chance to get to know him again. Did he still like tomato soup when it rained? Did he finally decide if he liked cats or dogs better? Did he remember the waltz she taught him?... 

But she didn't trust herself not to ruin it.  She was too selfish.  She longed for him in ways that brought her shame… 

He pulled her closer and Clorinde found that she could only follow his lead. She felt his nose gently brush against hers, and then his lips were pressed against hers, soft and warm. Surprisingly so. 

Her eyes fluttered closed and she dug her fingers into the fine fabric of his suit to keep him close as she instinctively kissed him back, full, firm, and achingly slow. 

She couldn't remember ever melting so fast before. She sighed, allowing his tongue to slip in her mouth, leaving dizzying sparks with every push and caress against her own. She tasted the sweetness from the sugar he always liked to add to his tea. 

 Warmth blossomed in her chest, and the heat trickled down and settled pleasantly in her belly. Unintentionally, she pushed her body closer to his. 

He groaned softly, it was a low and deep sound that coaxed a whine from her. 

She was so, so eager to breathe him in, to let him pull her closer.  A unique mix of leather, copper and some kind of subtle spice filled her lungs. She liked it. It had to be from the tea that ran through his veins.

She hummed in approval when he slipped a strong arm around her waist, and her knees almost buckled when he crushed her against his solid frame. His hand wandered down to her rear and he rubbed her softly before gripping her tight and pressing her hips hard against his. She shamelessly moaned in his mouth and grinded herself against him.

The last time she kissed him it was nowhere near as intense as this. In fact, she's never kissed anyone this way. Like she was trying to merge with him. She didn't even know kissing could actually feel like this. It was a sensual dance that made her burn from the inside out.

It felt far too intimate,  but she just had to pull him in closer. It felt like there was too much space between them still. She reached her arm around his neck and twisted her fingers into his hair with the other and pulled him in further,  hoping to close that gap. 

One of his hands slid up to cup the back of her neck and she swooned from the slight pressure. She was getting light headed fast. She didn't want to pull away, but she had to. She was starting to see stars, her need for a proper breath of air could no longer be ignored.

When she found the strength to pull away it was slow, and a long thread of saliva stretched between them before snapping like silk.

Before she could do or say something else, he tilted her face and started pressing kisses along her jawline. His fingers had snuck into her own hair, and he was gripping her tight at the nape. She felt like a cat,  immobilized and defenseless by the pressure. 

"Stay," he murmured against her skin between kisses.

She shouldn't.  

But she was spellbound, "okay…" 

There wasn't much time. He still had business to attend to. They both did, but damn did she want this. She didn't want to have to step away, or break the spell that had fallen over her.  

 He lifted her up suddenly, easily , as if she weighed nothing, and that alone made her nerves buzz like the hum of electro crystals. From her peripherals the shadows of the dark room enveloped them. The door shut, and her back was pressed against it so hard the air in her lungs rushed out.  

She gasped and then she was breathing him in again. Except this kiss was nothing like the first. 

It was messy. 

She threw her gloves into the inky darkness and tangled her fingers deep in the thick locks of his hair. It was soft, impossibly soft. 

Desperate.  

His breathing was heavy, it matched hers perfectly. The only thing filling her mind was the satisfying burn that made her muscles ache where his grip on her thighs tightened. Instinct guided her legs around his hips and begged her to squeeze. 

He shuddered, and the moan that she swallowed sent heat down her spine, fast like a beam of light cutting through the fog. She grinded herself against him without thinking, just chasing that heat. He pushed her harder against the door, slowly, he returned each of her desperate movements with hard precise ones of his own. Sparks went off behind her eyes as a rush of pleasure swept through her. She could feel him,  strong and hard against her throbbing center. 

Gods if he fucked her against the door right now she wouldn't care… 

Oh she wanted him to… 

He pulled her away from the door and dropped her on his bed, and the sudden change violently snapped her back to reality.

"W-Wait," she gasped and blindly pushed him back. We can't; got caught in her throat,  because the part of her that very much wanted to continue was screaming in protest.  "Give me a moment…" she said instead and hastily moved off the bed to put some space between them.

She heard him huff but she didn't dare to look. 

What am I doing?!

 She didn't really think through much of this, and needed to give her mind time to catch up to her body.  She definitely didn't intend to end up in this situation, and needed to find something to do to give herself time to think. 

"Why?"

"My uh…clothes. I don't want to ruin your bed…" 

"It'll be a lot worse off when I'm done with you, darling," he whispered between heavy breaths. 

Heat filled her cheeks and she quickly looked away to avoid the intensity in his eyes. "Give me a moment…" she repeated as she glanced around the room. 

She was just supposed to dry off.  She wasn't supposed to do this… 

Maybe if she dragged it out long enough he'd lose interest. She caught sight of a radiator. She could use it to dry her clothes, but that would mean taking them off if she wanted them to dry quickly … but as long as she kept on her underclothes, it should be alright… 

She moved over to stand beside it and unhooked her cape and carefully laid it on the heated metal. Her shoes went next, and her corset shortly followed. When she started on her shirt she paused and glanced over her shoulder to where he was at the end of his bed, watching her with an intensity that she wasn't used to receiving.

She held his gaze for a few beats before glancing around the room again.  His bed was perfectly made, and it looked like it hadn't been used in a long time. At the same time, she wondered how many women he's brought in here. By her own account, she knew it had to be at least two. Surely he fell into bed with many more on the surface… 

What number would she be?

An old wound opened up in her heart and she closed her eyes and sighed.  She didn't want to just be another number… 

I can't keep doing this to us… Her heart was pounding. She'd intended to apologize to him for her previous inappropriate behavior. She needed to redraw the line in the sand. It was smeared, but she could still redraw it.  She could reinforce it even.  Tell him that she wasn't thinking before,  that she made a mistake. Regaining his friendship was a feat on its own.  She didn't even know if he actually considered her his friend anymore in the first place! 

But he let me do it… 

That didn't mean anything… he's probably let many do similar…

Just thinking about that spread jealousy in her heart. She had no right to feel jealous, but even though she's told herself that on multiple occasions,  the feeling still burned. Why couldn't she just let him go?  Why was she clinging to him so desperately?

Thinking about why made her want to cry, so she once again pushed those thoughts away. 

She glanced back at him once more and opened a button on her blouse. His eyes immediately glanced at it before moving back to her face. 

It was just a quick glance,  but it sent a rush of heat into her cheeks. She couldn't remember feeling like this before. It wasn't just nervousness though, there was something else there, but she was having trouble deciding what it was.

She always figured she'd die a spinster due to her line of work.  In fact,  most women who chose the life of the garde or a duelist did. After all, who wanted to wed a woman that needed a maid to care for the children?  Might as well marry the maid, and some actually did. 

She thought she was fine with that, but sometimes she longed for the warmth a normal life could give. Even for a night. But trust was important to her, and letting people into her inner circle was nigh impossible. The few she's tried to date in the past have openly bragged about getting to court her, the best Champion Duelist of Fontaine, so she stopped entertaining the idea all together.

She wasn't a prize to be won, nor a beast to conquer.

"Aren't you going to assist me?" She called out into the darkness.

He chuckled softly and moved back into her line of sight. "Are the buttons too tight?"

Clorinde narrowed her eyes and easily popped another one open. "Don't be an oaf," she shot back.  

His smirk fell away and he slowly moved to stand in front of her. "My apologies," he murmured and slid his hands over hers. 

They were warm, and the heat that he transferred into her freezing skin gave her a chill. His breathing was steady again, but she couldn't help but wonder if his heart still beat as rapidly as hers did.  

He squeezed her hands and held them until they warmed before moving to finish unbuttoning her shirt.

Standing this close to him like this once again made her realize just how tall he was. She wasn't used to being towered over so completely.  She couldn't really remember the last time she had to actually tilt her head up to look a man in the eyes. 

Wriothesley not only made her look up, he made her look dainty…

Oh she could still remember when she stood taller than him.

She kept expecting him to crack a joke, or taunt her in some way, but he didn't. Once her shirt was opened his hands fell away, but he made no move to pull it off or touch her. Though he didn't take his eyes off her.

His hands drifted to her brassiere next, and she couldn't help but feel self-conscious with how plain it was. Just simple white cotton with delicate lace to give it some appeal. 

He unhooked the garment but still made no move to pull it off. The zipper for her skirt was next, but that too stayed draped around her hips. 

She glanced up at his face to find his icy blue eyes still on hers. She was going to ask him what he was waiting for, he wasn't behaving even close to how those other women described. Did he also realize the mistake they were making?  She assumed he did. Why else was he just… standing there?

Receiving pleasure from someone was one thing,  but giving it? That was a heavier commitment… 

  She wasn't sure if she should be disappointed or not, but even so, the way her heart pounded in her chest did not settle. 

Maybe he realized he couldn't even pretend to like what he saw?

But then she realized what he was doing. He was giving her a minute , a choice. This was also her last opportunity to put things back where they should be.

Professional… 

"Please, please take them off, " she whispered hesitantly. 

She couldn't help but remember the very first time she stood bare before him.

.

They were young, teenagers, and so very curious. Nothing really happened, she had suggested it after stumbling across a book she probably shouldn't have. He'd let her see him, and in return she let him see her

She'd shown him how to properly unlace a corset, and she learned in turn how simple a man's clothing was in comparison. She remembered there was no shame in her heart, only curiosity and trust. A feeling she knew he felt as well,  because she knew he was ashamed of how sickly he looked,  but when she asked,  he let her see. And what she saw was the other half of her heart.

When her curiosity got the best of her,  he also let her touch him. And once she got too nervous to continue, he let her watch him finish by his own hand.

.

"Can I touch you this time?" He asked softly.

Clorinde thought she was going to combust. "Yes…" 

His smile reminded her of their youth. A boyish, crooked grin that always gave her butterflies. He tried to hide it by looking down,  but she still saw it. It was a simple thing,  but the idea that he actually wanted this too made her blush. 

Her shirt was the first to go, and he hung it up behind her. He turned his attention back to her and slid his hands down her arms and slowly back up,  rubbing away the goosebumps that had formed.

She couldn't figure out how he was so warm, at first she figured it was her being overly chilled, but she was starting to doubt that. He slipped his finger under the strap of her brasserie next,  and pulled it down, exposing her breasts to the open air. 

When they fooled around as teenagers they always kept most of their clothes on, just in case she had to run off. A benefit of long skirts that she took full advantage of at the time. So she could count on one hand the amount of times he's seen her chest,  and that was less than five. She'd been a rather late bloomer, or as her peers at the time would whisper, an over bloomer… and sometimes she still felt the ghost of shame that those words brought her. Especially when she had to put in specialized custom orders for clothing…

Would the faint stretch marks on her chest turn him away?... 

Wriothesley laid her brasserie out besides her other clothes and boldly cupped her breasts in his large hands.

A deeper blush instantly rushed into her cheeks, and it only grew warmer when she realized just how much she actually liked watching him touch her breasts.  She wanted to say something clever to distract herself from that fact, but nothing came to her.

He rubbed his thumbs gently over her hardened nipples, pulling a shaky sigh from her lungs. 

Was that supposed to feel that good? She couldn't remember liquid heat flooding into her loins the way it did just now the last time she allowed a man to handle her chest.

She was memorized by the feeling, the prickling heat that seeped into her core every time his calloused thumbs brushed over her sensitive skin. 

"What are you thinking?" She dared herself to ask.

His eyes moved back to hers and a sheepish smile spread on his face.  "To be honest, I can't really focus enough to think much."

She huffed and blew some hair out of her face. "There must be something in that big head of yours…"

"Ah, well… I've really missed this," he murmured after a moment.  

Her face got hotter. "Grabbing boobs?" She said without thinking. 

He smirked. "Hm, I actually meant, you, your warmth,  being close to you, but, yes, I do miss your boobs as well." He squeezed her breasts suddenly before releasing her and leaning his head down closer to her chest. 

"I meant in general,  n-not just mine…" she mumbled. 

His brow rose, "you're the only one I've ever touched like this," he whispered.

Clorinde laughed dryly. "Don't lie to my face, Wriothesley," it hurts too much… 

He frowned.  "I'm not."

She sighed and turned her head away from him. "I'll pretend I believe you," she said and cleared her throat.  "Just tell me what else you're thinking."

He huffed, and the warmth of his breath gave her goosebumps. "I've actually been thinking about stealing another kiss…" he murmured and leaned down closer to her. 

"Well you're wasting time."

"Hm, I suppose you're right," he whispered and pressed a soft kiss right on the swell of her breast.  

He sucked softly on the skin before closing his mouth around her nipple. She couldn't help the way that she gasped. 

Her hands jumped into his hair and she tangled her fingers in the thick messy locks.  Damn, why did she like this so much?  Why were her legs trembling when he hadn't even touched her yet? She wanted more… unsolicited images of him pinning her to the bed in a similar fashion to how he'd pinned her to the wall started clouding her thoughts, and she unintentionally started to fantasize over how it would feel… 

Maybe she shouldn't have stopped him… 

She's never allowed anyone to go all the way before. Noble ideas of celibacy and propriety steered her away from such things.  And anything she's ever done with him never crossed that final threshold… But now? Gods she wondered…

It had to be him . If she was going to give herself up to anyone it needed to be him… She's always wanted it to be him anyway… 

Would it be wrong to allow him to have her… just for the night so she could imagine what her life could have been like?... 

Was that sinful? 

It would be just for pleasure, surely he'd understand… 

He pulled away from her suddenly,  leaving her disoriented. He pressed his hands into her toned stomach before swiftly pulling her skirt down.  Her tights and underwear went next, taking away the rest of her decency.

And then she was bare, like the day she was born,  like that day at the beach at twilight, when she willingly bared herself to a fragile boy that held her heart in his hands, all in the name of curiosity. 

Her excuse back then when he'd asked 'why' once again wormed its way to the forefront of her mind.  

Well, my Mother says I am to be a bride one day, and that I should know how to please. So I think I should know what to expect. It hardly seems fair to walk into something so important blind. I shall not ask anyone else, and I dare not tell a soul if you won't. 

Sometimes she couldn't help but feel like she was braver as a teenager, because now she was so nervous.

What did he think? Did he find her at least a little appealing to the eye still? 

"Don't just gawk at me," she said. "You'd waste what little time we have staring like a school boy?"

He huffed out a soft laugh and pulled off his gloves and hand wraps. "Perhaps I am at heart, I'm just admiring the view," he said in that soft voice that spread tingles through her. 

She wanted to ask him if that meant he thought she was decent,  but she held her tongue.  That wasn't important… right?   "Don't just sit there,  do something," she huffed.  

 "What would you have me do?" 

"Well, what do you typically do in here?" She said, nervous,  but she tried to hide it behind annoyance. 

"Hm, just sleep actually, though I don't think that's what you have in mind."

"I'll pretend I believe you, " she said again. 

It wasn't really her business in the first place, but she would have told him the truth if he was in her place… she knew what he's done. Why lie about it? 

He frowned and grabbed her by the hips and turned her away from the radiator. He gave her a little nudge so that she'd sit on the edge of his bed. She held her breath so her gasp of surprise would remain in her chest.

He pressed his palms on either side of her and leaned up into her face.  "I've no reason to lie to you," he whispered. 

She turned her face away. "Yet you do." 

He grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. 

Her heart jumped into her throat. If it had been anyone else, she may have been afraid of the anger that she saw in his icy eyes while she was in such a vulnerable state.  Though she was intimidated, it wasn't fear of him or what he might do to her that made her heart race.

It was worry over the fact that she upset him again. It was worry that he'd change his mind and leave.  It was worry that he'd realize she wasn't worth the trouble when he could have anyone he wanted…

"I've never lied to you, Clorinde, if you really want to know,  I'll tell you, though I prefer not to get into all that. But if that's what you want,  I'll tell you, just ask."

She had an idea of what he was getting at, but she didn't want to talk about that now. Especially now.  

"Not now…" she whispered. 

"Why not? You might as well, who knows when you'll get the chance again, and I know you'll be thinking about it on your way home.  Ask me, Clorinde, just get it out of the way, ask," he demanded.

Her nerves sky rocketed. She couldn't look away, and he didn't let her go. She tried to tell him to release her, but she couldn't find her voice. Did her comment really upset him that much? 

"How many women have I slept with? That's what you're thinking,  I know it is," he whispered.  

Her face got even warmer except this time with shame.

" Ask me, Clo." 

Her voice sounded far away. "H-How many…" was all she could manage to say.

"None," he said and tightened his grip on her face.

She frowned. She knew that wasn't true, why was he lying to her agai—

"There's that pretty frown," he slowly rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, reminding her of the last time his hand was close to her mouth. "You must know how low the standards are of some women, they dress as if they actually care about chastity, but depending on who you are they'll be happy with a quick fuck, and then be on their way. Hell, many will even proposition me themselves.

"They may complain when I set my boundaries, but at the end of the day, I only ever needed to ask once. I've never spent the night with any of them. As for the number, I'll leave it at more than five, and yes, there is a difference, at least for me," he let her chin go and gently cupped her cheek instead. 

"Hardly…" She said, frowning. She didn't think there was a difference.  Intimacy was intimacy was it not? 

"Oh, but there is, darling. Clothes always stayed on," he said and pressed a soft kiss on her other cheek before moving to kiss down her neck.  "No kissing, anywhere , or I'd end it," he mumbled before sucking a dark bruise just under her collarbone. "And absolutely no marks," he said and pulled away to look at her. "Of any kind."

She wanted to argue with him that it didn't matter how the deed was done, but couldn't deny that it comforted her that he kept things so… cold with those other women. 

Did that mean she was still special to him?...

 "What else do you want to know?"

But at the same time she was mortified.  She wasn't sure if asking anything else was a good idea, but he was right. She has wondered, and she often found herself brooding over such questions. It was like forbidden knowledge. She both did and didn't want to know.

"When… when was the last?" She mumbled. 

"It's been at least three years…"

"W-Why blondes?" She found herself asking.

"Because the only way I could bear it was if they didn't even remotely resemble you ," he grimaced.  "Call it pathetic if you'd like, but that's the truth."

She looked away again. She didn't know what to do with that information.  "Why?" She whispered, hesitant, and embarrassed. She didn't think she was very desirable… 

He smirked.  " That, I'll let you stew over, sweetheart."

She frowned. That's what she wanted to know the most!  

He leaned his head against her thigh and slowly slid his hand up her leg. "My turn, darling, tell me, have you fantasized about my touch?" 

I have…  

"I'm much too busy to be wasting my time on daydreams…"

He hummed to himself and continued feeling up her leg. She winced internally when she realized that she hadn't done any proper maintenance on herself in a long time. She kept herself clean and neat of course, but her legs have been sadly neglected,  and her skin was in desperate need of moisturizer.

He didn't seem fazed by it.

"Hurry up, already, we haven't the time," she whispered harshly, but he didn't acknowledge her demand. He just kept feeling up her legs as if she hadn't said anything.  

Watching his hands roam over her skin in itself was an exhilarating experience. It was as if he'd be satisfied with just feeling her skin.  She wanted to pretend that he actually would be. 

She kept expecting him to pull away,  disgusted by a scar or the dry feel of her legs, but he didn't. When he finally passed her knees he pushed her thighs apart just a bit more, and she felt her insides clench from the anticipation alone. 

He pressed his fingers against her center, and the simple contact made her body jerk.

 He swiped a finger across her leaking slit and slowly drew a circle against her half swollen clit. Clorinde held her breath again to hold in a gasp,  but her hips betrayed just how sensitive she already was and jerked into his touch. 

Every single touch affected her so much deeper than anyone's ever has,  not even her own.  She didn't know why everything he did felt so good,  but damn did she want more of it. 

"You're a liar, Clorinde," he murmured as he slowly slipped a finger inside her.  "I know you touched yourself after you sucked my soul out, wondering how I'd feel elsewhere … you probably even whispered my name when you came, then sighed in frustration because of how deep the ache still was, but that's okay, I'm not afraid to admit that I still dream of you."

I did… 

Why did he have to say it like that!?

Oh she was burning in shame, she had no idea how to respond to him!  She felt so exposed, and not because she was naked on his bed. 

Oh,  how does he know? … 

"Because I do, love, I've been dreaming about you for weeks… you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this…" he murmured.

She couldn't think. She was overloaded with both information and pleasurable sensations because the entire time he kept slowly pumping his finger into her. Her toes were curling… 

Before she could warn him to be gentle he pushed a second finger into her. 

She had prepared herself for discomfort, and pain, but felt none at all. He not only slipped it into her,  he pushed both all the way up to the knuckle. Though,  push wasn't even the right word,  it was more of a smooth slide. And when he slowly slid them out of her,  it felt like she sucked him back in. 

It felt good, too good for what it was. She was shocked how easily he was able to do it. The last time a man tried to touch her in such a fashion it had been very uncomfortable, yet she tried to endure it because it was the man her parents set her up to marry.  But when he tried that, it hurt. There was a lot of actual shoving… She ended up kicking him out of the room.

"Wow look at that, you're so wet…" he murmured as he spread his fingers inside her.  "You must be eager."

Clorinde wasn't sure if he was making fun of her or not, because he sounded more like he was talking to himself. Even she was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with her,  because she's never felt so much fluid seep out of her like this… she was just short of mortified, and his words made her flush even more with embarrassment. Once again, she tried to hide behind indifference. 

"Y-You're talking too much," she said while she tried to distract herself from the delicious pleasure that was rapidly building up in her belly as he pumped his fingers into her at a firm, leisurely pace. 

Her body naturally squeezed around his fingers as the pleasure increased and she bit her lip and squeezed him harder.  It felt good.  The tension. 

She had told him to hurry, but now she was glad he was taking his time.  It felt so good, like a pleasurable massage that touched all of her nerves… she wanted to tell him,  but at the same time, she'd die of embarrassment if he mocked her over it… 

"I don't know,  it feels like you really like my voice," he said with a smirk right as he curled his fingers inside her, he pressed against a spot that made her muscles jerk and she had to dig her nails into her palms to suppress her moan.  

Mhn I do… 

Unfortunately she couldn't hold it back the second time he did it.

"Mhn…" 

"What was that? Does that feel good, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice low and soft. 

Gods it does…

"Answer me."

"Y-Yes… mnh, it does…" she whined. She couldn't believe she was making such weak sounds.  She was embarrassed,  but she couldn't stop focusing on just how good it all felt.  It was getting harder and harder not to completely zone out. 

"You know I'll give you as much as you want,  Clo, you just have to ask,  because I want it too… I'm just waiting for you to say it."

She flushed with embarrassment and turned her head away from his piercing stare. She didn't know what to say!   "Hush already, I could always find someone else less talkative, maybe Roussimoff would be more willing."

There was absolutely no way she'd ask that man for anything. But Wriothesley didn't need to know that.

The laugh that he let out almost sounded like a bark, and ended in a growl. "You'd rather get boiled alive." .

"You don't know that," she argued back. He glared up at her and pulled his hand away from her before yanking her closer to the edge of the bed, making her gasp. 

"You have a tell when you lie, love," he said as he hooked her legs over his broad shoulders. "And you keep on lying to me…" 

She blushed and bit her lip. She did?? For how long has he known? "What? What is it? Tell me," she demanded.

He leaned up to press his lips right by her ear, forcing her knees by her chest. " No ."

"F-Fine, be like that, but there's no way for you to really know if I haven't asked him for assistance already." 

As terrible as it was, she wanted to know if he'd feel the bite of jealousy too… 

The way he glared at her made her heart jump. 

"Be very careful, Clo, he's already buried beneath the sea, no one will notice if he suddenly goes missing," he growled before sinking back to the floor and pulling her just a bit closer. 

Clorinde couldn't help herself and a whine slipped past her lips. She knew what he was going to do, and her heart was screaming in anticipation. She'd never done something like that before, the thought of letting just anyone do that to her made her recoil. But Wriothesley?  Oh, she was just short of squirming with want. 

"You… you wouldn't harm him over that," she said in an attempt to distract herself.

He sucked a dark mark on her thigh before biting into the reddened skin. She yelped in both surprise and pain and yanked his head up by the hair so she could look at him. His teeth were much sharper than she thought they'd be… 

She couldn't believe he just bit her! 

She was going to yell at him for doing that, but the second their eyes locked she lost her voice. He had the fiercest look in his eyes,  and it made her absolutely tremble. 

"I would," he whispered and leaned down to press a kiss over the bright blooming bruise on her skin. "I can ," he added much lower. "You're not going to let him touch you again, Clorinde, got it?" 

Another rush of warmth seeped out of her…the steel in his eyes was making her tremble. She didn't know how to describe the feeling growing in her gut, but it definitely added to the ache…

"G-Got it…" she whispered. 

He grinned,  wild and wolfish. "Good girl…"

!!!

Oh… 

Heat rushed through her body like a shiver,  giving her goosebumps from head to toe. 

She probably would have argued more, maybe to question the audacity of his possessiveness, and the boldness of his words, but he buried his face between her legs and she let out the most girlish sound in years.  She'd be embarrassed if her mind hadn't short circuited.

Clorinde shut her eyes tight and unintentionally let a moan out. Her thighs closed around his head, and she grinded her hips against his face.  

He licked and sucked at her skin in indulgent long strokes, making the pleasure spike to dangerous levels. She was falling apart fast, much faster than she ever has. 

He hooked an arm around her thigh and forced her legs open, and slowly slipped his fingers into her leaking core.

The pleasure tripled. She moaned again and fell back against the bed while he pumped his fingers into her. He settled on a deep,  slow rhythm that had her seeing stars. It was so good that she couldn't stop the moans this time. She didn't even recognize her own voice…

She was so delirious she was shaking. Her hands found their way into his hair again, and she twisted his thick locks tight in her grasp. 

"Mhn… Wriothesley…Ah~"

He moaned into her skin and that was her undoing. 

She gasped as she tumbled off the edge. Her muscles spasmed and her back arched as heat rushed through her body.  

He pulled his mouth off her, but kept his fingers inside her and fucked her through it, with the pace gradually increasing.  She moaned again, weak and strangled before her voice was stolen again when he closed his lips over her again.

She's never been so overwhelmed, so breathless, so mindless. She was just a puddle of intense feelings. Her hips were fighting to arch off the bed, but he kept her firmly pinned to the mattress.  

She was quick to hit the peak again, without warning, a pleasurable sensation much stronger than she could remember feeling rushed through her. It was like she was actually overloaded. Her thighs shook uncontrollably, and her core felt like it was fluttering. Heat rushed through her body like lightning striking the water's surface. branching out through all of her nerves, and leaving her limbs tingling with aftershocks of pleasure.

She always thought those stories about world tipping pleasure were exaggerations…

She nearly screamed… 

She collapsed on the bed, gasping for breath, mind empty, body shaking. 

She felt him sigh, his breath was cool against her heated skin, and he gently pulled his hand away from her,  leaving behind a different kind of ache, an awareness of how empty she felt. A desire to be filled… 

Once her mind finally resurfaced, she let out a long shaky sigh herself. She propped herself up to look at him, and prepared herself for some kind of smug comment, but when she looked at him, she only saw the top of his head.

She ran her hands through his hair, and when he looked up at her,  she felt a pang of affection in her heart. 

She should have just finished her tea… 

"I can warm up the tea," he mumbled as he licked his lips. 

Clorinde watched him curiously for a few beats while she played with his hair, enjoying the way he used her thigh as a pillow. His hair was so soft, she really liked how it felt running through her fingers. 

"It's almost like you could read my mind," she said after a bit. And she realized after the fact that it was in more ways than one… 

He smirked. "Oh? I knew you were a secret enthusiast," he spoke softly,  as if he knew anything more would disrupt the pleasant and warm atmosphere.

It was her turn to smirk. "In your dreams," she teased him lightly.  

He sat up slowly and stretched out his shoulders. "Indeed." 

Clorinde sat up as well,  now extra aware of her nakedness. It put her off a little, but strangely, she wasn't exactly uncomfortable.  

How odd…   

"Um… thank you," she mumbled awkwardly. What do you even say after that?  Her whole body felt weak, and she wanted to just lay back down… 

"Mhm, you're welcome to stay, if you want to, take a nap if you wish,  I know you're tired," he murmured, genuine and kind. 

She blushed and gently nudged his head off her leg.  As much as she wanted to, she wasn't sure if that was a good idea. 

"I think I should go…" she mumbled. 

He sighed but let her go. She stood on shaky legs and she turned her back to him so she could get dressed. Thankfully everything was nice and dry, aside from small parts of her cape,  but even then it was minimal. She dressed swiftly and made her way to his door. 

As soon as she turned the knob he pushed his hands against the door to keep it shut, caging her in his arms. Her heart leapt to her throat. She hadn't heard him move… 

"Not until you give me a goodbye kiss," he said in her ear. 

She blushed and slowly turned to face him.  She was speechless, she wasn't used to him being so demanding… his whole demeanor today was different than what she was used to,  she didn't know how to react to it. 

He pressed his forehead against hers, and just stared into her eyes. 

 She thought about denying him to see what he'd do,  but she couldn't think of an excuse. 

The problem was that she really wanted another excuse to kiss him anyway…  

Clorinde pressed her palms against his chest and tilted her head up just enough to give him a light kiss right on his lips. He kissed her back gently and slowly deepened it. She softly nipped at his bottom lip and slipped her tongue in his mouth, demanding control of the kiss, which he easily gave in to, much to her surprise. She took advantage of it,  because she wanted to leave him as breathless as he left her,  but she also wanted to give him something in return. They really didn't have time for much else, even though she couldn't stop thinking about how much more he'd want to give her…

He said all I had to do was ask… 

Tasting herself on him was also something she didn't consider she'd be into, but only paired with the thought that she'd be the only one to indulge him from now on. 

She had no idea what she was doing anymore…

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He squeezed her even tighter, once again making her swoon, and oh she melted fast. 

She liked being held so tightly. Oh this was bad… 

His hands slid down her sides and he gripped her hips in his hands and rubbed her gently before sliding them up to cradle her face. 

He pulled her face away from him, breaking the kiss sudden and loud.  He smirked and gave her another quick kiss before letting her go, leaving her completely stunned and feeling robbed.

He reached over her and opened up his door. He grabbed her by the shoulders and gently nudged her out of the room. By the time she had completely regained her bearings he was setting another cup of tea in front of her. 

Clorinde grabbed it automatically and even took a sip from the pleasant drink before she finally snapped out of her daze. Blushing, she took her pocket mirror from her skirt and checked on the state of her makeup. It was a disaster. 

"You're beautiful, Clorinde, but here—"

She looked up just in time to catch the object Wriothesley tossed at her; a red handkerchief.  

Clorinde quickly went about wiping away the smudges from her face. She examined her face closely, and carefully retouched her makeup as swiftly and neatly as possible. 

As soon as she finished his office door swung open, making her jump. 

Quick pittering of little footsteps flew up the stairs. "Your Grace? Miss Clorinde? Oh there you are! What happened, Miss Clorinde? I thought your clothes were wet."

She froze. What was she supposed to say?

"Nothing really," Wriothesley cut in smoothly,  "Miss Clorinde just sat by the radiator for a bit."

Sigewinne nodded.  "Ooh, okay,  well, Miss Clorinde,  could you please come with me? I'd like to make sure all of your vitals are good." 

Clorinde sighed in relief. Why didn't she think to say something so simple? "Of course, Sigewinne," she said and set her teacup down. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Clorinde," Wriothesley said as she turned to follow Sigewinne down the steps.

Wait what?

"Right…" she said as if she knew what he was talking about. 

Tomorrow? 

As they left his office Sigewinne looked up at her, "Miss Clorinde, what's going on tomorrow?"

Clorinde bit the inside of her cheek. She had no idea! Did she miss some important information? 

"Just work," Clorinde said.

What is tomorrow?!

Chapter Text

In truth,  Wriothesley didn't have anything planned specifically for Clorinde to do. In fact,  he didn't expect her to actually stay or return,  or show up at all the next day. Her job was done.

So when the sensor in his room alerted him of a presence outside his office at the crack of dawn, his first thought was that it was an emergency. The guards knew not to bother him before noon unless the Fortress was flooding, both literally and figuratively. 

He jumped out of bed,  having already been begrudgingly awake thanks to a restless sleep, and threw his coat over his pajamas, an old t-shirt and sweatpants.

He rushed out of his room and swung open his office door,  ready to fight if need be,  but froze as soon as he saw who was standing there. 

Clorinde.

In all of her neat and stone faced glory. Except,  she didn't look particularly neat, and her face was set in a familiar frown. 

As soon as he swung the door open she gasped and took a step back.

"O-Oh… I'm so sorry, Your Grace,  were you asleep?" She asked as she looked him over. Her clothes were wrinkled and her posture was haggard. She looked uncomfortable, exhausted. 

He laughed softly.  He didn't have to be above ground to know the sun wasn't even out yet. Still,  he took her question as seriously as she asked it. 

"I was trying to sleep,  but admittedly I've been unsuccessful," he glanced over her shoulder briefly to make sure everything was alright before motioning for her to come in.  

She didn't budge. "I-I apologize then for disturbing you, I'll come back in a few hours."

He grabbed her wrist to keep her from leaving. "What do you need, sweetheart?" He asked softly. 

He saw her cheeks flush and she bit her lip. "The dormitories are surprisingly cold at night…" she whispered. "I've been… also having trouble."

He immediately felt like slapping himself. The dormitories?! That's what the guards called the cells. The rooms and tunnels the prisoners slept in!  What in the seven hells was she doing sleeping in a cell?! 

He tightened his grip on her wrist and tugged her into his office.  

He should have followed his instinct and checked up on her once everything in the Fortress settled down.  Of course she'd sleep in an empty cell.  The Fortress wasn't made for entertaining guests, and he knew she was too prideful to complain about her accommodations. But at the same time,  she'd just given him a bit of insight to what she truly felt. 

"I don't mean to trouble you, I actually get up at this time for work typically anyway… you mentioned you needed me today, I assume you have a new assignment for me? I can just get started on it now."

Ah, she's doing it again… hiding. He was going to push her. Just a bit. 

"Just tell me the truth,  Clorinde, you want something from me,  I know you do, even though I probably could, I'm not guessing.  You have to say it this time."

She frowned and crossed her arms.  He could just see how her mind was whirling. Irritation,  frustration, and something small and soft hidden beneath all of her layers of armor asking to be seen.  

He didn't know how to tell her that he did see it.  That he knew what she truly wanted from him. He saw it multiple times the night prior. When he held her in his arms,  tasted her breath and skin, felt her unravel before him, he saw it in her eyes,  the same ache and longing that he's held for her all this time, for all of these years . 

The same longing that kept him alive for ten years,  the one that made him want to die for five more when he thought he lost her, and the one that nearly drove him crazy for three after that.

She needed him. The same way he needed her. He knew she did.  He felt it.  

But he needed her to not only realize the same, but say it.  

Without a word he carefully reached for her face, instead of recoiling or stepping away like one typically might she closed her eyes and leaned ever so slightly closer, expecting. He gave it to her.

He cupped her cheek in his hand and gently brushed his thumb over the swell of it. She leaned into his hand like a cat,  and nearly nuzzled her face into his palm. A vulnerability he couldn't imagine her showing anyone else. 

She still loves me… I know she does . 

What else could it possibly be? 

"What are you so afraid of?" He asked quietly. 

She frowned and turned away. It seemed he'd stepped on the wrong path… 

"I'm not afraid of anything, Your Grace… I'm just waiting for my assignment."

One more attempt. "Do you want me to warm you up, sweetheart?" He asked,  voice soft. He gently brushed his hand against hers.  She was cold, and he would do just that if that's what she wanted. Nothing more or less.  

Her cheeks brightened and she bit her lip.  "If you…um, if you've got the time…" she whispered.

"I'll always make time for you," he said and hooked his arm under her knees and lifted her up.  She gasped and clung to his shirt and quickly hid her face in his chest. 

He took her straight to his room and set her on his bed.  Before she could question his intentions he pulled his blankets over her and tucked her in tight. Even though he couldn't see her face in the darkness,  he still smirked just imagining the adorable look on her face. 

He left to make some tea and quickly returned to hand it to her.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Just the tea would have been enough…"

He sat on the edge of the bed and observed her dark silhouette for a moment. At face value, it sounded like a complaint but he decided to dig just a bit. 

"Is that a complaint, darling?" He asked curious, patient. 

"No!" She said quickly. "I-I just… wanted to let you know that you didn't need to go through so much effort for me." 

"I'll keep that in mind," he said and sat on top of the covers beside her.

A comfortable silence fell over them while she sipped her tea. He finished his first, but he didn't typically wait as long for it to cool as most did. 

"Your room is very dark," she mumbled after a bit. 

His first thought was to say something smart, but he held his tongue because he didn't want to upset her and risk her wanting to leave.  

"Is it too dark for you?" He asked instead. 

"No, but there's a street light that shines through my window that's on all night… I'm simply not used to such darkness…" 

The lights of the city, he always did have an issue getting to sleep when he had to stay on the surface for extended periods of time.  

"You do have curtains, right?"

"Of course, but my room is still pretty bright at night."

"Stars, Clorinde,  that means you need better curtains!" He said, but he still sat up and reached over to push the button on his wall.  The window tint on the far side of his room slowly faded away to reveal the landscape of the open sea. The room was quickly filled with dark blueish light that gave everything a soft glow. 

Clorinde gasped softly and sat up to stare in awe. "It's just like the window on the way down from the surface."

"Similarly,  mine is a one way window though,  so you can look out, but not in," he explained. He laid back down to watch her face. The smile that sat on her pretty lips reminded him of the look on her face when he showed her his ship… 

It was genuine and full of wonder. He decided he wanted to do whatever he could to get her to smile like that more often. 

She used to smile like that when he brought her strange trinkets he found on the floor or washed up on the beach.  She always appreciated anything he gifted her,  even if it was essentially junk.  But he always did his best to craft said material into something.  A makeshift bracelet, or figurine being a few examples. 

Her smile was also present when he showed her whatever weird bug he got his hands on,  both habits that he held into his teens, simply because of her reactions. 

"Is that better, love?" He asked quietly. 

She nodded and turned to look at him,  the smile still on her face. 

Oh how his heart swelled with affection.  With just that look he was bombarded with the urge to hold her again. 

"Yes… because now I can see you…" she bit her lip and quickly looked away. "Uh,  I'm sorry I didn't mean—"

"And I can see you," he interrupted quickly. 

She smiled again and started to fuss with the blanket. "Do you remember the times we fell asleep stargazing?" She whispered softly. 

"I do, you used to teach me the constellations," he said just as softly.  

She nodded.  "For some reason… I feel nostalgic…You liked to make up constellations too," she whispered. 

"It was fun,  especially because you made up stories to go with them," he said fondly. 

She nodded slowly and laid her head on his chest. He could tell she was hesitant at first,  but after a moment she relaxed with a sigh. 

"Do you know what that fish is called?" She whispered.  "The one with the silver stripe."

"I actually do, those are pretty common in this part of the sea…they are actually named blue fin after their fins rather than the silver marking…" he continued to tell her about the names of each fish she pointed out, and even gave her a little factoid about each one. 

He was proud of himself,  that he actually had information to share with her about something other than tea. Somewhere in the middle of it she'd set her cup aside and wrapped her arm around him, and was clinging to his side quite tightly. 

He understood now why she felt so nostalgic… 

They used to hold each other like this when they stargazed as teens. A surge of emotion hit him hard in the chest and he tightened his hold on her, and leaned his head against the top of hers. 

He drifted back to sleep listening to the calming pattern of her breaths and the comforting feeling of her warmth pressed against his side. 

.

.

He woke up very similarly to how he'd been waking up the last few weeks, from a dream that left his blood hot. 

He sighed and buried his face further into his pillow,  except it felt much softer than he remembered it being, and there was also the heartbeat that didn't quite match his own… 

  Wait… 

He lifted his head to find a pair of bright violet eyes staring at him.  He blinked and refocused enough to see the rest of the face in front of him. 

Full lips set into a pout, long lashes and cheeks dusted a light pink. 

He was stunned at first, having momentarily forgotten where he was or how she got there. 

"Mornin', Clo…" he murmured once he finally recovered. 

"It's well in the afternoon by now."

"Hmm…" he shifted slightly but immediately froze when he felt pressure in his lower region.

"It's normal…" she said quickly, but her face still reddened further. 

It was,  but… "Uh,  how long have you been awake?"

"A while…" 

Ah, that's unfortunate… He grimaced and let her go. No wonder she was still here,  he had his arms pretty tight around her… though he swore he had laid down on top of the blankets…. 

"In my defense, I laid on top of the blankets for a few reasons, uh, that being one of them…"

Her cheeks brightened. "Well… I don't like seeing people sleep uncovered… it just isn't right." 

"Ah… I apologize, I never intended to make you uncomfortable…" he sighed and sat up, but as he was moving to stand she grabbed his hand to stop him.  

"Don't apologize, It's normal, " she said again,this time much quieter. She bit her lip and lowered her eyes.  "Though… I must admit it felt like you were teasing me for quite a while…" 

That made him blush. "Should I apologize for that?" He asked as he searched her face. 

She bit her lip and brushed her thumb over his knuckles. "Of course not… but can I ask you something a bit personal?" 

"Sure."

"When that happens… uh,  does it always come with… uh… want?"

He had to bite his tongue so as not to say something stupid.  It wasn't on purpose, it was just his first thought, to make a joke at his own expense. But he didn't want to embarrass her on purpose. And she sounded sincere in her questioning.  

"Honestly it depends… erm… sometimes it's just a nuisance, a bit of ice is often the quickest solution," he chuckled. "Though lately it is quite… frustrating, taking care of it myself often feels like a chore."

Clorinde nodded and started to trace random patterns on his hand and over his fingers. Wriothesley wasn't sure if it was because of the topic or if he was really that pathetic, but her little touches were making him hot. 

He had to hold his breath for a few beats to keep from asking her to stroke him elsewhere… 

But at the same time she was also stirring his longing for her,  and he was growing restless. 

Ugh,  but he didn't want to stop her!

"One more question…" she whispered. 

"Ask away," he said as plainly as possible. 

"May I take care of it?" 

He had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing in disbelief.  "Clorinde, darling… you don't have to ask," he said behind a veil of masked confidence. 

He felt her press her hands against his back and she slowly rubbed across his shoulders and down his spine. It was nothing inappropriate, but boy did it make his heart race. 

"I think I should,  it's only appropriate," she mumbled and nuzzled her face between his shoulder blades. She kissed him there,  soft and light,  but it felt like a brand. She placed additional kisses up along his neck, all the while she slid her hands down his chest and stomach.

"Then ask me more often," he demanded.  She squeezed him over his pants and he groaned and leaned his head back against her shoulder.  "Clo…kiss me," he begged, breathless.  

Her cheeks brightened and she leaned down to kiss him,  but the angle prevented him from kissing her as fully as he wanted to.  He pulled away and turned to face her but before he could pull her close, she stopped him with her hand on his chest. 

"Wait… I don't want you to touch me this time," she whispered.

He frowned and leaned back to see her completely.  "Why?" 

Her face reddened further. "I want to see and feel you properly…" she whispered and averted her eyes. "If that's okay…" she added quietly. 

He held his breath to try and hide his disappointment and nodded. "So…" 

"Could you lay down?" She whispered.  

He only hesitated for a beat before complying and reclining back against his pillows. 

"Don't worry, Your Grace… I'll make it worth the trouble," she said with a wry smile and moved closer to his side. 

"Call me Wriothesley, especially when we're alone, Clorinde," he murmured.

Her eyes widened and she nodded with a shy smile.  "Wriothesley… you were right… I have been thinking about you…" she whispered and slowly slid her hand over him again. She rubbed him in slow consistent circles until he was clearly straining.

He smirked. "I know…" he would have said more, but it was getting harder for him to focus.

She tugged at his shirt.  "Can I take these off?" She asked as she moved to dip her fingers under his waistband. 

"Mnh, yes…" 

She rolled his shirt up and leaned forward to pull it over his head. As soon as it was off he leaned up to steal a kiss from her lips.  He didn't expect her to return the kiss as fully as she did, and it took his breath away. She pressed him back against the pillows as she deepened the kiss, and her hands slowly slid down his sides, tracing over every dip and scar.

He didn't think feeling her bare hands on him like this would affect him the way it was,  but damn did it make him ache for more. 

He felt her weight on him suddenly and he bit back a moan as her hips pressed down against his. Without thinking he wrapped his arms around her,  but she abruptly broke the kiss to stop him.  

"Wriothesley…"

He frowned and looked up at her face. "Nothing at all?" He asked, a bit confused.

She shook her head. "At least not until I say so… is that still okay?"

He searched her face for a moment before obediently returning his hands to his sides. This was definitely a new concept to him, but he agreed anyway because  he was a bit starved for her attention… 

"Just don't leave me hanging," he joked, though she didn't crack a smile like he expected. 

"I won't," she whispered and gently brushed his hair out of his face. "I promise."

The sincerity in her voice made him feel warm for an entirely different reason.  This heat settled in his face and chest,  it made him feel a bit defenseless. 

Clorinde offered him another shy smile and leaned down to kiss him again, she pressed her chest completely against his, and tangled her fingers in his hair. 

Resisting the urge not to touch her was harder than he thought it was going to be.  It was as if every nerve in his body was begging to grab a hold of her.  He actually had to reach up to grab the bed frame to squeeze to distract himself. Thankfully it was metal, which meant he wouldn't snap it too quickly… 

She broke the kiss to press firm, wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck, and as soon as her lips brushed over one of his scars his heart doubled in speed.  

He instinctively tensed, but he didn't stop her,  even as his heart rate continued to increase.  Her grip in his hair softened significantly and she pressed a soft kiss over each deep gash that scarred his neck. 

Each kiss both made him shudder and melt.  He wanted to both stop her and ask her for more.  He had no idea this would be such a sensitive area for him,  but it made sense. If he didn't get warm so easily he'd probably wear a scarf or turtle neck all the time because of how exposed he sometimes felt… 

"Is this from back then?" She whispered against his skin.

He knew what she was referring to, and at first he wasn't quite sure.  Had he gotten those scars when he raised his hand against them? Thinking about it literally gave him a chill.  A dark memory resurfaced suddenly that he nearly forgot about, perhaps even blocked out. 

All he could see in that instant was dirty floorboards as he hid under his bed.

We can't let him survive the night! 

He knows!

A pair of eyes that gleamed in the darkness appeared, he'd been discovered! A claw-like hand that grabbed his ankle from the other side and dragged him out… 

Pity… I liked this one. 

The glimmer from the knife in the candle light… 

You missed! 

Again! 

Don't struggle!

Idiot, again! 

His lip trembled against his will.  "Y-Yes…" 

Clorinde must have heard the way his voice wavered because she leaned away and grabbed his face.  "Wriothesley,  I'm sorry… Did I overstep?"

He blinked and the images faded, replaced by her lovely face.  He'd only ever told her that he ran away… 

Ah that's right… I used to cover them up completely back then. 

"No," he mumbled and forced a laugh.  "Sorry… I uh… I don't know what that was about…" 

She kissed his cheek.  "Don't apologize, mon chéri," she whispered and gave him another kiss on his other cheek.  

He already felt vulnerable, then for her to hit him with that…  

She kissed him again, full and warm, while she cradled his face in her hands, and he melted fast. 

He wanted to pretend that she didn't notice the tear that rolled down his cheek when he closed his eyes, that the gentle circle that she rubbed into his cheek just happened to wipe it away. 

Above all else though,  he hoped her affections weren't born from pity. 

She continued to gently caress him even as she slowly deepened the kiss. She further distracted him by grinding her hips against his until she was the only thing he could focus on. 

"Clo… you're going to make me ruin my pants if you keep that up," he breathed against her lips. 

"Then I'll take them off," she whispered and nipped at his lip. 

It was like she just hit him with pneuma energy… 

She tugged his pants and undergarments down and leaned down to kiss him again right as she wrapped her hand around him.  

He groaned into her mouth, and the way she squeezed and stroked him only further pushed his mind into the fog. His hands twitched and he tightened his grip on the metal frame, straining. He needed to touch her.

"C-Clo… I need to touch you,  you're going to have to bind me if you don't want me to," he warned, breathless. 

Clorinde glanced over him and smirked.  "Should I cuff you then?" 

He was only half serious when he said it,  but the fact that she suggested that threw him off kilter.  "You'll have to use mine if you really want to… the others won't work," he admitted. 

Her eyes widened and she blushed deeply. " I was trying to make a bad joke like you do! You weren't supposed to agree!" 

He laughed.  He didn't expect to either,  but… "Oh?"

She huffed and raised to her knees and pulled her skirt and undergarments down in one go,  completely destroying any train of thought he might have had… 

Her shirt went next,  but she kept her brasserie on. 

"I'm not doing that," she mumbled and straddled him.  "That's something that… you don't play around with your work equipment," she grumbled.

He was too caught up in the feeling of her literally pinning his hard on against his stomach to think of a response. He could feel the subtle throb from her core, the warmth, how wet she was… 

"I-I hope just this isn't too juvenile for you…" she mumbled,  apparently missing how he almost busted just a second ago…

"C-Course not…" he mumbled while he tried to regain some of his sense.

It was extremely difficult. 

He could feel the subtle throb of her core against him, the way each shift made her twitch and her breath hitch.  And damn she was wet and warm… 

He might not have been stupid before but he was starting to catch it. 

"B-Besides… you're free now, so there's no need…" she whispered. 

"Mnh,  I'd let you do it…" he said as he bit back a moan. He shut his eyes tightly and ghosted his hands over her hips.  "Mh-maybe we can talk about that later… I have to touch you… Clo, babes… please."

She blushed and nodded. "Of course you can—"

The satisfaction he got from simply  grabbing her hips was enough to pull a groan out of him. He had to rub his hands up and down her thighs a few times, just admiring the curve of her.  When he returned to her hips he tightened his grip and arched against her to drag himself through her center. 

She gasped and moaned and reached down to grip the tip of him as she grinded her hips against his, simulating the act he would rather be doing right now.  But he still wasn't picky, and even as an adult he would never refuse anything she offered him.  

His imagination was enough to fill in the gaps. 

Because he could feel her pulse against him,  could feel her wetness leaking on him,  her heat and smoothness.  She moaned like she did in his dreams, when he'd imagine her clenching around him while he was buried inside her.  She squeezed him with her thighs the same way when she was getting close, and sighed his name in a similar desperate fashion.  

She tightened her grip on him as her movements quickened, and it threw him deeper into an ecstasy he's never felt to such a degree before. 

"Clorinde…" he moaned, mindless,  "Clo…" he's so close he's trembling from the restraint, and leaking into her fist, soaking her fingers further.  He resisted as much as he could if only to extend the pleasure of it all. But it's difficult. Because with each stroke she squeezed him tighter,  grinded her hips against him harder,  and his body felt hotter. 

" Ooh… Wrio… please, please come for me," she moaned as she gave him another firm stroke. 

He did.  

He came so hard that he barely noticed that she clumsily got off him because she kept her hand around him.  Her other hand she buried between her legs and he just barely noticed she shoved three fingers inside herself before crying out and falling forward so her face was buried in his neck. She moaned loud in his ear,  matching the shameless wanton moans that he had no control over as he soaked her palm with more heat than he remembered releasing at once.  

She was still at his side breathing heavily when he found the strength to move again. Still in a daze, he threw his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side. 

He held her close, his face buried in her hair while everything around him stopped spinning. He could have fallen back asleep holding her but she tenses suddenly and he let her go.

"Oh… I'm sorry," he murmured, but she quickly grabbed his wrist, only to tense even more.

"No it's okay— oh I'm sorry… my hand…" she sat up,  looking embarrassed and held her hand away from the bed awkwardly.

Wriothesley couldn't help but laugh. "Pretty sure that's my fault, darling," he sat up and dug into his end table to hand her a small towel. "Luckily I do have a bathroom here too… stay?" He asked hopefully. 

Clorinde silently took the towel from him and averted her eyes while she wiped her hand before wiping him off too. "I would appreciate cleaning up… but I don't know how much longer I should stay, don't you have work for me?" 

He didn't miss how she did that for him,  and he felt a pang of affection dig deeper into his heart. She didn't need to do that, but she insisted. She used to always treat him with so much care and respect, even when he was just a street rat. 

It was one of the reasons he fell so deeply for her.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead when she finished.  

She blushed and tossed the rag away.  "Wriothesley,  my assignment?" She mumbled.

He leaned back and scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly.  "Uh,  yes, I was actually going to just ask you to help me with paperwork." 

She looked up at him quickly with narrowed eyes. "Really?"

"Mhm, you could of course also join me for some tea after you freshen up… I don't know about you,  but I'm actually really hungry." 

"More tea?"

"Ah, don't dismiss it like that!"

She huffed and stood, dragging one of his sheets with her to cover her body. "Fine, herbal, no sugar, I'd like to keep my teeth, thank you very much. Where's the bathroom?" She said while avoiding eye contact.  

He grinned. "The door in the back beside the closet." 

She gathered her clothes and even snatched her gloves off the floor from the previous night. "At least have the tea ready when I get back so I can drink that while you clean up."

He was going to suggest going with her instead, but he decided against it. He didn't want to push her too far out of her comfort zone. 

"Yes, ma'am," he teased instead and as soon as she looked at him he gave her a formal salute.

Her blush and eye roll as she retreated to his bathroom was definitely worth it. 

Chapter Text

Clorinde spent longer than she usually did cleaning up just staring at her reflection in the misty mirror of Wriothesley's bathroom. 

"What are you doing,  Clorinde?" She whispered, frowning. She wiped the mirror so only her eyes were visible.  "How are you not ashamed of yourself?" She bit her lip and looked down. 

She was though. 

If I keep this up, he's going to think I'm playing games again… 

She should just make her intentions known, but the problem was, her intentions didn't match her actions, her impulsive actions that shoved her deeper into this situation than she ever meant to go.

But what were her intentions?

I just miss him… 

"What do you want, Clorinde?" She whispered as she glared at herself. 

I don't know…

She scowled and tightened her hand into a fist. 

A sudden knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts. 

"Clo, as much as I don't mind you using up all of the hot water the fortress has to offer, I've reheated your tea twice already, darling. Are you almost done in there?"

Clorinde blushed and turned away from the mirror. "I'm sorry, I'm just getting dressed," she said and hurriedly pulled her tights back on. 

Darling… 

Every time he addressed her so sweetly it gave her butterflies.  

She tried telling him once to stop,  then she fought so hard to break that line of formality, but all she expected was a dropping of formal titles… but when did he start doing that again?

It felt so normal that she didn't even notice when he did it most of the time, and that was dangerous because she couldn't say for certain if he did it in front of people or not.  She didn't think he did, but the fact that she wasn't sure made her nervous.

That's why she still used his formal title, to try and keep that distance.

But why? 

She bit her lip and glanced at her reflection again. "What are you so afraid of?" She whispered, frustrated, annoyed.  

I don't want to lose him again… relationships never last long… it'll be safer to just… stay away.

She scowled at herself and buttoned up the last button on her blouse and quickly left the bathroom. 

His room was illuminated by a soft lamp light this time,  and the window shade was back in place,  giving the room a cozy atmosphere. 

He was sitting on the edge of the bed and as soon as he saw her a charming smile took over his face. 

"There she is," he said with a small laugh.

Clorinde rolled her eyes to try and mask the way that she blushed. She even shook her head before accepting the tea he held out to her.  "I can't believe you have one product in the shower," she complained to distract herself. 

His brows rose.  "Hm? It's all in one, simple and effective I would think."

Clorinde frowned.  "No,  those products are the worst!  I can't understand why your hair is so freaking soft when you use that terrible product." 

Wriothesley chuckled and stood up.  "Well,  it's cheap and versatile, so why wouldn't it work?"

She scoffed in disbelief. "Would you mix all of your teas together in one jar?"

He gasped. "Gods no,  why in the world would I do that?"

Clorinde just held his shocked gaze for a few beats of silence. 

"That's hardly the same," he protested. 

"You're right, it's not as egregious." 

"Clorinde!"

The mock offense of his tone made her smirk. "It's alright, I'll get you some proper shampoos, once you realize what you're missing out on you'll never go back," 

He chuckled and moved over to the bathroom.  "There's no need, if it isn't broken,  why fix it?" 

She scoffed. "Then I'll just mix all the tea together."

He facepalmed,  "Clo, please tell me you're joking."

Clorinde purposely held his gaze for a few tense beats before nodding. "Of course I am, Your Grace,  I wouldn't do something so ridiculous."

He laughed in relief and gave her the,  I'm watching you,  gesture before disappearing in the bathroom. 

Clorinde repressed her laugh and focused instead on her teacup. She really liked this blend.  It was nice and refreshing and naturally just sweet enough to not really need anything added to it.  

Clorinde clutched the cup close to her chest and sat on the edge of his bed. She wasn't entirely sure why she didn't just go sit in his office, but she told herself it was because of how warm his room was.

She caught her reflection in the teacup, she was smiling , it was faint, but still… as soon as she realized it she frowned and guilt once again clawed at her nerves. 

You're taking advantage of his kindness! If you plan on keeping him in your life this needs to stop.  You're not a teenager anymore. You have no excuse for this kind of behavior! You're behaving like a harlot! 

Clorinde hung her head and sighed heavily.  She needed to have a proper conversation with him about whatever the hell they were doing,  but she was terrified of things going awry again. 

The devastated look on his face when she gave him back the pearl was still engraved in her memory.  Then when he left into the pouring rain, she'd fallen to her knees and sobbed. 

She cried so hard that she made herself hoarse. She couldn't remember crying so hard before.  At the time she thought it was the reality of what happened with Callas and Navia finally getting to her, and maybe that had been a factor in it,  but at that moment all she could think of was running after Wriothesley to apologize. 

But she hadn't. 

She'd convinced herself that the feeling of intense regret would fade by morning,  but it didn't.

Waking up in his arms the night before was one of the worst things that could have happened to her because it felt so right.  

She still remembered how warm she felt that morning, her headache somehow wasn't strong enough to truly bother her.  All she felt in those first few moments of waking was peace. 

But she didn't think she deserved to be so happy, and had effectively ruined that for herself.  

Then this morning, when she woke up once again in his arms.  That warmth and strength was just as she remembered,  perhaps even stronger. Though,  Clorinde couldn't help but wonder,  did he cling to her because he was just one of those people that tended to cling to something while they slept? Or was it because it was her.  Did he hug her so tightly because he still—

No! 

She shook her head and set her teacup down. That was a dangerous train of thought.

"Oh, good, you're still here."

Clorinde looked up to find Wriothesley standing in front of her with a fresh suit on, and his wild hair brushed out of his face. She quickly looked away to avoid looking him in the eyes,  because she felt entirely too vulnerable right now.  As impossible as it was, she didn't want him to know what she was thinking.

"Where else would I go?" She muttered in deflection. 

He chuckled softly and walked over to his door.  "You could've gone anywhere, my dear," he gestured with his head to the door.  "I suppose we should start that paperwork, hm?"

Clorinde huffed to further mask her blush and followed him out to his office.  She thought the spell would break as soon as she walked over the threshold, but not even a moment passed and she heard him put on some music on the gramophone.

It really was such an ingenious device, able to play back music over and over again to be heard at one's pleasure.

The tune he picked this time reminded her of songs played at closing time at a bar, the high-end kind.  

It was a slow and sultry tune that made her want to just lounge on the couch.  To her surprise, that's exactly what he did!

Wriothesley sat on his couch with a few papers in hand and looked up at her over the edge. 

It gave her a strong feeling of deja vu…

He held her gaze for just a beat before he broke it,  with a wink.

All the tension in her chest rushed out in a woosh of air as she groaned in faux annoyance and covered her face with her hand to shield her blushing face. 

He laughed, and patted the space beside him.  "Come on,  have a seat,  you still intend to help me, yes?"

Clorinde huffed and sat beside him,  though left a proper large gap between them.  

Wriothesley handed her some documents and patiently explained what needed to be done. Clorinde listened intently and from there it was all business.

At least that's what she thought. 

She'd just finished reviewing her third packet when she looked up to ask a question about some of the contents, only to nearly bump her nose into his jaw. 

She tensed as the realization of her position dawned on her.  She had her head on his shoulder, and he had his arm around her,  keeping her snug and warm at his side. 

When did that happen? She had no idea! 

Embarrassed, she pulled away, and retreated back to the other end of the couch. The distance seemed dramatically far for some reason, even though she knew that was where she'd started off… 

He frowned at her as soon as she moved. " okay, sweetheart?" He asked gently. 

Clorinde repressed her sigh, she noticed it again, and even though she tried to ignore it, her face still warmed. 

"I'm fine, Your Grace… I just… I think—" we need to talk; sounded too uncomfortable.  It reminded her too much of that terrible morning in her kitchen three years ago when she foolishly pushed him away when all he wanted to do was help.  

I'm sorry,  sounded worse somehow,  and this needs to stop ,  was far harsher than she wanted. 

Maybe we really can't be friends… she thought with a frown, and she subconsciously hugged herself. She hated that thought. 

But he did say he'd be happy with just friendship back then, but on the same coin, more recently he told her he couldn't actually do it… he tried to push her away, and she selfishly ignored his wishes.

"I just wanted to stretch my legs," she lied instead, and forced a smile. 

I'll try again tomorrow maybe, or next time I meet him when I have more time to think everything over. She had plenty of time to figure things out, there was no reason for her to rush anything. If she did that, then she'd only end up making another foolish mistake that she might not be able to come back from. 

His eyes searched her face for a beat, "Are you sure?" He asked quietly. 

She nodded, and rolled her eyes for theatrics. "Why else would I stand up, Your Grace?"

He smiled himself, but it didn't look true either. "Right, I suppose I could use some stretching myself,  did you want to—"

An extremely loud alarm started blaring suddenly and his eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. 

"Y-Your Grace, what's—"

He turned to her quickly, any semblance of the gentleness she'd just seen in his eyes was gone,  replaced by a fear that she only remembered seeing once in her life… on the night she lost him.

"The gate," he whispered and practically flew down the stairs. 

Clorinde's stomach dropped and she hurried after him as he burst out of his office. He was already in mid command.

"—evacuate the Fortress,  now, everyone to the surface," he ordered the guards near his door,  who looked both confused and panicked.  "I want everything fast, and orderly, understand? And one of you alert Monsieur Neuvillette, tell him code TRI, he will know," He said and spun on his heel back into the office. 

Clorinde had to jump out of the way as he rushed past her and hit the switch on the wall,  revealing the hidden steps to the Forbidden Zone.

She hurried after him, and fell into step right behind him as he opened the gates to where the sluice gate was. 

The reader was going haywire. Her heart almost stopped. 

"Stay up here," Wriothesley ordered and moved closer to the seal.

Clorinde wanted to protest, but there was no logical reason to. 

"We don't have any time, get back to the entrance. I'll do what I can to stop it, but if I fail, hit the lever to close the gates."

Clorinde's eyes widened and she stopped her retreat to look at him. "Are you crazy?" Her voice came out just a bit above a whisper,  because anything louder would reveal how terrified she was.

He looked her in the eyes and smiled softly, "Only for you, love," he murmured and had the audacity to smirk. 

He was making a fucking joke! Now of all times?!

Clorinde scowled. "You'll die!"

Something he said to her the last time she was down here hit her so hard that she felt nauseous. 

If things go awry,  I'm still willing to protect you with my life.

"Get back to the entrance," he said again. "And be ready to run."

No!  No, no, no!  There's so much I still haven't said!

She hated every second of it,  but she rushed to the entrance just as he said.  As soon as she turned around she heard the metal explode, and she gasped in horror as an iridescent spout of water burst from the seal. 

~~~

"Hey,  Clo, what do you want to be when you're grown up?"

"Don't be dumb, I'm already old enough to marry! My aunt married much younger than I, I've been a proper lady for awhile now."

"Ha, it's not a crime to ask a young lady such things."

Clorinde huffed and grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart. "It is unwise to daydream of the unknown,  it only sets you up for disappointment, but I do know where I'll be when I'm 'grown up', you foolish boy."

He laughed, "Oh? And where exactly do you 'know' you'll be?"

"I'll be with you,  mon chéri,  wherever life takes me,  I know I'll be with you, at your side, until the end."

~~~

Watching Wriothesley freeze the spout of water made her realize how hard she was biting the inside of her cheek,  because she finally noticed she was tasting blood.

She only had time to relax her jaw before the wall of ice cracked and an even larger spout of water burst up into the air. 

He stood there,  frozen,  staring at it for what felt like forever. Clorinde wanted to scream at him. 

He spun around and ran.  

She panicked.  Her legs were frozen in place. She could barely breathe,  but she knew she couldn't fail him.  She couldn't.  She'd promised… 

And she never got the chance to change his mind…

Clorinde drew her gun and aimed it at the lever to shut the gates.  Her hand at her side shook, but her aim was steady. It had to be,  because her legs could no longer move. 

"Three…" she counted out loud, to keep away the panic. 

~~

"Hm, and what if fate separates us? What then?"

Clorinde scoffed, "Well, you better do everything you can to find your way back to me, mon chéri, what a ridiculous question."

"Ha, I will, I promise…"

~~

 "One," Clorinde pulled the trigger,  but it didn't feel like she did, even though she felt the recoil,  heard the bullet hit the lever, but the only thing she could see were the giant gates rapidly closing, closing with Wriothesley sprinting towards the entrance… towards her…  

All she could do was stand there and stare in horror as the final gate closed low enough to block him from view. Her ears were ringing, she felt faint, and the nausea only worsened.

A second later a blur of black slid under the last gate just as it sealed shut. Wriothesley jumped to his feet and hurled blasts of cryo at the gate until the whole thing was covered in ice and the room felt like an ice box. 

"This won't hold for long," he said as he rubbed his gloved wrist. "Go, Clorinde."

She felt like screaming again, there was so much tension in her chest.  "No," was the only thing she could say.

He glared at her, "what?"

"I'm not going anywhere, I can help," she insisted. 

"That isn't the plan, Clorinde,  get back to the surface, make sure that Neuvillette is on his way, and I need you to find a—"

"No," she insisted again, stubborn.  "I can help, if I imbed your strikes with electro, the spread of ice should thicken due to the superconduct reaction," she explained quickly.  

He scoffed. "What little improvement that will do is absolutely not worth the risk it brings you," he muttered. 

Clorinde didn't care, and she made sure to tell him as such. She got right in his face, and held his fierce expression. "You cannot get rid of me that easily, mon chéri," she whispered. 

He scowled, but the ice groaned in protest and he quickly turned his attention back to it.  He shot it with another burst of cryo that Clorinde made sure to infuse with just enough electro to spread the resulting ice further. 

"You reckon, Neuvillette will come alone?" He asked suddenly. 

Clorinde didn't question it, she was relieved he didn't fight her decision, granted she didn't give him the choice.  "Of course not," she said with a huff. "He'll bring a few attendees for back up, I'm sure." 

Wriothesley laughed out loud. "Ha! Are you serious, Clo? Don't be ridiculous,  I'm sure you have heard the rumors, what with working so close to him everyday, surely you've noticed something about that man isn't quite normal. He doesn't need anyone else,  much less an entourage."

Clorinde scoffed. "Rumors are still rumors,  Wriothesley, besides, even if they are true,  he would still need to keep up appearances!"

Wriothesley smirked.  "No, I bet he'll come alone,  Neuvillette is a proper gentleman, there's no reason to risk the lives of others,  especially when one is confident in their own abilities," he shot her a glare.

Clorinde didn't miss how he was also digging at her choice to stay and help him. 

"Why would he need to worry about appearances? He's the Iudex, I remember the first time I saw him when I was a teen,  perched up on that grand seat during my trial, I knew he wasn't just normal."

Clorinde shook her head.  "It doesn't matter how he arrives, so long as he does."

"Mhm, you wanna bet?" He asked with a grin. 

She glanced at his face,  he was smirking,  but she could still see the nervousness in his posture, subtle as it was. How his eyes kept jumping between her face and the gate. He was trying to distract himself from the gravity of their hopeless situation.  

The ice creaked again and he sent another blast of cryo at it that she made sure to enhance with another charge. 

"Fine," She said, her nerves hitting a peak. "Let's bet,  but when I win, you owe me a gift," she said without thinking.

"Sure! Same to you then."

Clorinde couldn't believe they were making a bet over something so serious, but until Monsieur Neuvillette got here,  it was all she could do to distract herself and him from their fate. 

One that she was willing to face at his side… 

...With you, at your side, until the end.

Clorinde lost count of how many times Wriothesley threw another layer of ice over the gate, but each time she made sure to do what she could to assist. 

When she heard footsteps behind her she wanted to sigh in relief without even looking first to see who it was. But she didn't need to. Their guest spoke soon after. 

"My thanks to you both," Monsieur Neuvillette said. "I will take it from here."

Wriothesley looked over at her and immediately grinned like a child, as if their lives weren't still in danger. 

He was alone. 

Chloride could barely believe it. "Sure you don't need a hand?" Though she wasn't sure what else she could possibly do. It felt appropriate to ask.

He didn't even glance her way. "Quite sure." 

Wriothesley's grin turned into a smirk. "Wow… So what's your secret? Hmm, let me guess…"

Monsieur Neuvillette merely sighed.

"Ahh, who knows, maybe it's just your sense of responsibility," he glanced over at Clorinde and turned to leave. 

Clorinde sighed and followed after him.  I can't believe he was right! "Sounds about right…" 

She only made it three steps away when she heard the ice crack, and Wriothesley grabbed her arm and yanked her behind him. Clorinde wasted no time in retreating back up the stairs, but she only got up half way when she noticed she didn't hear Wriothesley follow her.  Heart in her throat, she turned back around to see him still on the steps, watching Monsieur Neuvillette face the Primordial Sea with a look of amazement on his face, like a child watching the dancing mecha twirl around for the first time... 

Clorinde risked a glance to see the bright water slowly bending to his will. As much as it amazed her as well, she was far too worried about their own safety, and she grabbed Wriothesley's arm.  

"Come on! This isn't an opera!" She hissed angrily. 

Thankfully, he quickly relented and ushered her out of the office as if she'd been the one gawking like an idiot watching a horse race or something else ridiculous. 

As soon the office door shut behind them,  Clorinde allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. 

Wriothesley was still on edge. 

He ushered her further away from the door and insisted on standing between her and the door, just in case.  

Clorinde didn't have the voice to argue. She counted two minutes in her head before she no longer felt the intense elemental energies rushing just beneath their feet.

Her legs were shaking. "Alright… it seems like the problem inside has been suppressed," she said with a deep sigh. 

Wriothesley nodded and ran his hands over his face.  "Yeah, I believe we're safe for now…" 

Clorinde was so focused on his face, on making sure he was okay, that she didn't even hear Monsieur Neuvillette approach.

"Indeed, but only for now," he said grimly.

Wriothesley had the nerve to grin again, like he hadn't nearly died just now. Twice.  "I win, Clorinde, you owe me a present~"

She sighed and shook her head in disbelief. The images of everything that transpired were still swirling through her mind. "Very well… it was as you said, 

"You made a bet?" Monsieur Neuvillette asked,  unamused. 

Clorinde crossed her arms and glanced to the side while Wriothesley explained their silly bet for some reason. He spoke a bit faster than usual, and seemed far too interested in small talk considering what happened. She could tell by his body language that he hadn't relaxed yet.

Her own responses felt mechanical. She just kept seeing those large gates crushing Wriothesley… 

As soon as they bid farewell to Monsieur Neuvillette, Wriothesley opened up his office and Clorinde automatically retreated inside. Much to her chagrin he went down the steps leading to the Forbidden Zone. She figured he was going to just close the gates again but he didn't.  Some of them were damaged, so he walked down the terribly long hall that almost took his life to inspect the aftermath. 

Clorinde dared herself to follow him, but she still kept a distance, she couldn't get herself to go too close, but she was able to glance at the magical seal Monsieur Neuvillette placed on the sluice gate. 

She breathed out a sigh of relief at the same time that Wriothesley did. 

It felt like a bad dream… 

Wriothesley glanced at her and silently grabbed her hand and tugged her along as he turned his back on the ancient gate.

Clorinde let him drag her because it felt like her legs were turning to jelly.

The walk back to his office was silent, but her heart was still pounding in her ears.  Images of the large gates coming down on top of Wriothesley kept flashing behind her eyes. 

He almost didn't make it… 

I could have killed him!  

Even the drops of water that splashed on the floor beside her made her flinch, and his grip on her hand tightened. 

Wriothesley immediately began to brew some tea once they returned to his main office. Clorinde stood across from his desk,  unable to get herself to sit down anywhere. There was too much pressure in her chest.  She just kept seeing the door closing on top of him,  crushing him… 

I almost killed him… 

He gently nudged her teacup in her hand and she automatically brought it up to her lips, but paused when she saw her reflection in the dark liquid. 

He could have died… 

"That was stupid," she whispered around the lump in her throat. 

"What?  That you didn't listen to me?" He practically growled.

Clorinde looked up quickly to meet his steely gaze. He looked just like how she has been feeling for the last half hour.  Tense, angry,  and frustrated. All semblance of nonchalance was gone. 

"Excuse me?" She whispered harshly.

"You should have left when I told you to!" He yelled and slammed his cup down.  "You could have died!"

"Me? You're the one that could have died!  The water was right behind you!  Why did you wait so long to run?!" 

"I was trying to keep the water contained,  woman,  in case you weren't aware!"

"You stood there for three seconds too long staring at the water spout like a complete idiot!" She yelled back and all but threw her cup on his desk.  She heard the porcelain clash, but she forgot about it as soon as it happened.

"Why does it matter when I made it out in the first place?"

"Because I almost killed you!  The gate nearly crushed you!"

"It was part of the plan, we all would have died if you didn't hit the switch," he growled as he got in her face. "The problem here is why didn't you leave as soon as I sealed that last gate?  You didn't have to be so stubborn, your help didn't really change much,  if that gate failed,  you would not have been able to get yourself out of there in time.  That was stupid, Clorinde, I thought you were smarter than that."

Offended,  she turned to leave.  She wasn't going to stand here and argue with him.  She was truthfully so happy he was alive,  but her emotions were currently a tumultuous storm. She didn't want to accidentally say something she didn't mean in her frustration.

"Goodnight,  Your Grace," she said stiffly. 

He grabbed her wrist and turned her quickly to face him.  "Did you really think I wanted to watch you die? " he whispered and tightened his grip on her.  "I wanted to protect you,  Clorinde, I would have been happy with dying knowing you were safe, " he growled.  

There was a deadly seriousness in his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. His proximity was giving her goosebumps, even though he was gripping her wrist tightly, she could still feel him shake every so slightly. Was it from fear? Or anger, she wasn't sure. 

She kept her eyes locked with his. "Did you really think I would even consider letting you die alone?" She whispered. 

There was no way in the seven hells that she would leave him behind.  She swore to herself that she'd never leave his side again. She promised him that she'd be with him until the very end… 

"You're a fool," she whispered, voice shaking.

He glared at her, his eyes were cold and sharp,  but she held his gaze without flinching.  

There was absolutely no way she'd have left him. Even if the barrier did fail and the primordial seawater burst out to sweep them away… she would have stood by his side as they met their end. In those last moments, she would have dared herself to reach out to him,  to touch him one last time, feel the weight of his hand in hers in their final moments.  

She would have prayed for a second chance to do things right if she was lucky enough to be granted a new life at his side…

"You're such a foolish boy," she whispered as tears of both anger and frustration welled up in her eyes.  Her heart hurt, her soul ached, she would have died at his side before even thinking about leaving him… 

He grabbed her face in both of his hands at the same time she threw her arms around his neck. Their lips met in a desperate class, a mess of teeth and lips that would surely bruise, but it was only a second of chaos before they melted perfectly together. 

 Clorinde dug her fingers tight in his hair as if she were holding on for dear life. He lifted her up and she immediately wrapped her legs tight around his waist. 

From her peripherals her world blurred and then she heard a door slam and he dropped her on something soft. She only had enough time to notice his bed before he was on her again, hungrily biting and sucking at her lips and tongue while shaky hands stripped her clothes away. 

" You're the fool, " he breathed into her mouth. "Gods, archons,  Clo… I was so fucking scared," he said between desperate kisses.  "I can't stand the thought of losing you."

Clorinde nearly ripped his button down in her desperation to remove it. " I was the one terrified!" She snapped as she impatiently tugged down his pants. "I hated feeling so helpless!" 

"Then you should have left!" 

"You would have had to drag me out of there," she whispered. 

His grip on her thighs tightened and he hiked her legs up around his waist. She felt him pressed against her and she moaned and shamelessly grinded her hips,  allowing him to slide through her center. 

Her moan was cut short by another kiss that made her tremble just as much as the last. She was quickly growing delirious from his kisses, and the pleasure from the smooth slide of him against her throbbing core was making her toes curl. 

She wanted him.  She was tired of waiting. Her whole life flashed before her eyes just a few moments ago, and all she saw was a plethora of regrets… 

The next time she looked death in the eye, she didn't want to have any regrets.

"W-Wriothesley," she whispered between messy kisses.  "I want you… please…" she begged,  desperate. 

She didn't have the mind to tell him that she's never crossed this threshold before… 

She felt him push at her entrance and she bit her lip as her nerves spiked.

"S-Slowly…" was all she could get herself to whisper. 

He pulled back to look her in the eyes as he sank deeper into her. Just the eye contact alone was sending heat to her cheeks, and the intense pressure from being filled so deeply made her see stars.

She wouldn't say it hurt like most women claimed. But it was a bit uncomfortable.  She wasn't used to this kind of pressure, it took her breath away.

"F-Fuck, Clo… You're so tight…" he moaned and buried his face in her neck.  "Do you think you can take a bit more?"

Did he know? She wasn't really sure what he meant,  but she nodded anyway because she didn't want him to stop now.   "Yeah…"

His grip on her tightened more and she felt him push into her a bit more.  She gasped as he bottomed out inside her, and a whine involuntarily left her lips.

He muffled a string of expletives against her pulse, followed by a low moan that sent heat straight into her core.  

She instinctively clenched around him and she held back another whine. He moaned again and peppered her with kisses as he slowly started to grind his hips against hers. 

It was mesmerizing. Having him so deep inside her, rubbing against her walls in a slow and soothing rhythm. 

She didn't even realize the discomfort faded until she unintentionally let out a sound that was a mix between a moan and a whine. It felt so much better than she imagined it would have, and she let herself bask in it. 

Pleasure gradually took over all of her nerve endings and she slowly matched each of his movements. 

Without thinking she twisted her fingers in his hair and pulled him up to give him a kiss.  Right before their lips touched he hesitated. She saw the unease in his eyes, but before she could ask if he was okay,  he kissed her full and hard on the lips. 

It only heightened the pleasure she felt. 

Clorinde moaned in his mouth and squeezed him harder as the pleasure grew to such hights that she could barely maintain a proper kiss anymore. She was clinging to him as tightly as she could, her one hand twisted in his hair, and the other clung tight to his back.

He sucked a mark onto her neck and all she could do was let out a whimper as the coil of pleasure finally snapped. Her muscles spasmed and squeezed him tight as waves of heat rushed through her.

He pulled out of her suddenly in the middle of it and thrust back into her hard and she let out another moan that sounded terribly lewd. 

He fucked her through it, slow and precise, leaving her a gasping mess.

"Clo…" he mumbled softly. 

She looked up at him only to find her vision was incredibly blurry. She felt him cup her face in his hands and he gently wiped the tears from her eyes until she could see him in full clarity. 

He was beautiful. She loved the pink that filled his cheeks, and how messy his hair was.  Him… Oh, she wanted him in her life so much… 

"Yes?" She whispered. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," he murmured. 

"Mh-me too, I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for…I'm sorry for everything,  I really am," she said and pulled him back into another kiss.  

The rhythm they fell into was slow, much slower than before but it was extremely addicting.

She kept stealing his breath with kisses. Every time he pulled away she'd give chase. He would smile into it before returning it, even if he was already breathless.  

Each thrust was deep and slow, and she could tell he was quickly unraveling. That only excited her further.

He tried to pull away from her, but she tightened her hold on him, and crossed her legs tight around him, simultaneously pushing him deeper into her.  It really was such an addicting feeling... 

He muffled his moan into her neck and tapped her thigh.  "I-I need you to let me go, love, " he mumbled softly.  

"Mnh, I'm never letting you go again,  Wriothesley, " she said as she pulled him back up to steal another kiss. "Please don't make me…" she begged softly. 

"Ah… no it's okay, love, I'm not going anywhere, but, I can't—"

"Come inside me," she breathed into his mouth. 

"...You sure?"

"Yes, please, Wrio… I want you to."

He kissed her again, long and passionately as he gradually increased the pace of each thrust. He didn't last much longer,  and was quick to bury his face in her neck again.

Clorinde held him tight as his movements reduced to a stuttering grind, as he trembled and squeezed her impossibly tight. He moaned her name,  breathless and soft as he filled her with heat, and she crossed her ankles behind him just as tight to keep him close.  

She rubbed his scalp gently and peppered kisses into his hair until he looked up and pulled her into another pleasantly slow kiss. Her fingers massaged into his scalp, in soothing patterns, all while her heart soared with affection. 

"I-I still love you, Clorinde," he murmured between kisses.  "I love you so much…"

Her eyes flooded with tears.  She couldn't believe it. She had to be dreaming. What was there to love? Especially after everything she put him through, she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve him. He deserved so much more, someone who wasn't terrible and selfish like she was… 

"I'm sorry…" she whispered through the pain in her throat. She sighed and nudged him back enough to look him in the eyes.  " I'm sorry, I keep—"

He looked so devastated that she lost her voice… 

He bit his lip and gently wiped her tears away. "Don't worry, I don't expect anything from you, sweetheart… it's okay," he assured her gently. "If you want to pretend this didn't happen… I… I think I can make it work…" 

He pulled away from her and she shuddered as they separated, but she didn't let him get very far and pulled him back down on her chest. 

"Wait!"

He pulled her fingers out of his hair and kissed her hands. "I'll need a few days apart, love… just to… to adjust," he mumbled against her skin. 

"Wait! No,  I didn't mean that, gods, Wriothesley, oh, I didn't mean to make you upset again," She started pressing kisses anywhere she could on his face. "Please don't do that, I'm not going to ask you to do that," she said as tears filled her eyes again. "I-I don't want that…"

He smiled wryly and pressed his forehead against hers. "It's okay, love you don't have to force yourself…"

"N-No…you were right!  I-I'm just scared…" she whispered. "I'm scared of messing up. Of saying the wrong thing… you mean the world to me…" she bit her lip and ran her fingers through his hair again to try and sooth him, but it comforted her own frantic heart as well. "I'm scared of losing you…"

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured again. 

"If you still want to– um, give me a chance… " she whispered softly. "Maybe we could have dinner tomorrow… granted everything is safe enough for it, it'll be on me of course,  we can go wherever you'd like."

His eyes widened and he just stared at her in silence. The shock on his face made her blush, but she endured it because it was better than the sorrow she saw earlier. 

His face grew warm in her hands… he looked bewildered. 

"Did… did you just ask me out to dinner?" He asked.

She frowned and a new wave of heat rushed into her own cheeks.  "You don't have to agree," she said meekly. "I just thought… maybe we should do this properly…I owe you that at the very least."

He grinned suddenly,  beautifully. "Mhm, and what's this,  sweetheart?"

Her blush warmed. "Us…"

That playful smirk that she loved so much crept onto his face. "Miss Clorinde,  are you trying to court me?" He asked as if scandalized. 

She shut her eyes tightly and nodded quickly before she denied it out of habit. "Yes, I would very much like to… if that's okay…"

He laughed and pressed a kiss on her nose. "The courting is supposed to come before the deflowering you know." 

She flushed in embarrassment and bit her lip. So he really could tell how inexperienced she was? She must not have done very well… just the thought that she hadn't satisfied him embarrassed her. 

 "I… I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to change your mind," she admitted quietly. 

His eyes widened and he leaned back more to look at her fully.  "What do you mean?"

She frowned and bit her lip.  "Well… That… I've never um… I haven't actually…"

"Wait, C-Clorinde… you're a vir— you. uh— why didn't you tell me?"

Oh…  

She covered her face with her hands. So apparently he couldn't tell? "I just told you why… I-I didn't want you to change your mind… I-I wanted it to be you, Wriothesley… I was too afraid to ask…"

"Ah, you'd have to be a special kind of Saint to deny a woman for that…" he huffed and pulled her hands away from her face. "Clorinde… I didn't hurt you did I? I think I got carried away…" 

She shook her head quickly. "No… it felt really good…" she admitted shyly. 

He gave her a lopsided grin and kissed her palms. "Ha… I was worried I'd disappoint you… I didn't last as long as I usually do… I've never uh, kissed anyone during sex either… let alone face them… so I could barely keep myself in check,  it was very distracting, things were very close to ending a lot sooner."

She giggled and grabbed his face and held him gently. "A first for both of us then…" she couldn't help but feel a bit prideful by his admission. "So you felt good too?" She asked, timid.

"Ugh, of course , ah, I'm so glad you're okay," he said and leaned down to steal another kiss. "Wait until I get my hands on you tomorrow," he mumbled against her lips. He paused suddenly and laughed softly, awkward. "Uh… that is of course if you want me to uh…"

"I'm not opposed to it," she admitted. "Though, you should at least give a lady a proper answer one way or another…"

"Oh,  ah, sorry, love, what did you ask me?"

She huffed, amused and gently scratched at his scalp. "Dinner, mon chéri, will you join me?"

"Yes, of course I'll go," he said while he stole kiss after kiss from her. "Wherever you'd like, it doesn't matter."

She smiled, she couldn't remember the last time she felt this happy. "Hm, then I think I'll prepare the food, maybe we can meet on our beach," she asked hopefully. 

He sighed heavily and pulled her in close to his side. "Sure, sure," he mumbled and buried his face in her hair.  He held her so close and so tight that she could hear his comforting heartbeat. She decided she really loved the sound,  she loved the warmth of his embrace, she loved—

Oh… 

She still loved him too… 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

"Wrio—"

"Wriothesley?"

Instinct kicked in and Wriothesley sat up so fast that he made himself dizzy. He heard a thump and someone lost their breath with a grunt before he realized he had that someone in a choke hold. 

Dainty hands quickly tapped his arm.  "It's me,  it's Clorinde!" She said, strained. 

He immediately let her go and she started to cough. "Shit— I'm sorry, I didn't realize– are you okay?" He said quickly.

Clorinde nodded and much to his relief, she didn't shy away when he reached out to her.  She let him place his hand on her thigh, and it took him a few beats to realize it was bare.

He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and looked her over quickly to make sure she was okay.  Her long hair was loose and fell around her shoulders in beautiful streams of violet. It looked a bit damp, making it look almost black in some sections.  She was also wearing one of his black button downs, and that seemed to be it…

"I'm sorry, I'm just now realizing that I probably should have let you sleep,  especially after everything," Clorinde said.  "I didn't mean to startle you."

Was he dreaming?  Why else was Clorinde of all people in his bed, wearing nothing but his shirt,  and smelling of his shampoo? 

He couldn't really do much but stare in shock while he admired the sight before him.  

"Uh… you're in my room?" He mumbled,  bewildered. 

She frowned. "I am… did you want me to leave?" She bit her lip. "I guess I… I figured since we— I know what we did was very impulsive, but since you agreed to dinner,  I guess I thought this was okay too…" 

It all resurfaced so quickly he felt like he gave himself whiplash. Especially with how quickly he grabbed her. The blankets flew in random directions, he heard her yelp– adorable – but the one thing on Wriothesley's mind was making sure she did not go anywhere.  He pulled her down into a tight hug and laid back down on the bed with a deep,  satisfied sigh. 

"M'sorry, of course it's okay," he mumbled into her hair.  He almost didn't believe what had happened just a day ago. His bout with the gates, the danger from the primordial sea, the frustration that had built up when she refused to seek shelter, the intensely emotional fallout right after… 

"It's okay,  now that I think about it,  people don't typically wake you up, do they?" She asked. 

"No," he said and muffled his yawn into her shoulder.  "Mh, what time is it anyway? " He asked through another yawn.

"Uh, I believe it's seven o'clock."

That was way too damn early! It hasn't even been a whole day yet…  He groaned and pulled her closer as he snuggled back into the blankets. 

"Wait, Wriothesley,  I need to go."

"No you don't," he mumbled. 

She huffed and tapped his arm.  "Wriothesley, I'm hungry,  I'd like to find something to eat, so…"

Hearing that she was hungry gave him the energy to sit up. "Okay, okay, I'll get you something," he said as he let her go.  

"You don't have to,  I know my way around already, and I'm sure you want to rest,  I just wanted to let you know I was going to leave," Clorinde said. 

Wriothesley frowned and shook his head. "No,  no, you don't have to do that, besides, the cafeteria doesn't open until noon anyway," he yawned and rubbed his hands over his face. 

His back hurt like hell.  He must have scraped it really badly yesterday when he slid under the gate. But he would take shattered bones over not making it. 

"Wriothesley?" Clorinde whispered gently. 

As soon as he looked at her he couldn't help but smile.  She looked so sweet sitting beside him,  he still felt like he was dreaming.  Granted he was extremely tired, but he had nearly lost all hope to be able to sit here like this with her.  It was a peaceful sort of silence that made him feel happier than he felt like he deserved to be. 

"Hm?" He hummed in response. 

Clorinde bit her lip and gently ghosted her fingers up his arm. "How are you feeling?" She asked quietly.

"To be honest, I'm very exhausted," he leaned down and pressed a kiss on the side of her head.  "But I can't complain, I'll get you something to eat once I clean up."

"You don't have—"

"Sweetheart, please,  I want to," he said and went to his bathroom to wash up before she could protest again.

His back was in worse shape than he thought.  As soon as he cleaned up the large scrape on his back it started to bleed again. He accidently scratched  himself attempting to apply bandages when he heard a soft knock on the door. 

He must have cursed a bit too loud… 

"Wriothesley? Are you okay?" Clorinde asked. 

He sighed and glanced at himself in the mirror.  Even freshly washed, he looked terrible. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and his complexion looked a bit paler than normal. Despite his sad appearance, he couldn't remember the last time he felt this great. 

He opened up the door and Clorinde stepped back with a gasp. 

"Oh…" she blushed and looked away as if she wasn't just looking at him without a shirt not too long ago. "Are you okay?" She glanced at the bandages on the sink counter and frowned. 

She let herself in the bathroom and moved behind him to inspect his back.  She gently grabbed the wet cloth from his hand and carefully patted at his wound. She then went into his cabinets and took out some ointment. She was so gentle that he almost forgot what she was doing.

But she didn't step away once she finished securing his bandages. She grabbed his shirt off the hook and gently nudged his arm into the sleeve. 

It was a simple gesture that also felt extremely intimate. It took him back to when she used to smile at him so brightly and tell him that she loved him… 

It made him emotional, and he did his best to hide how deeply it affected him. 

Clorinde carefully buttoned up his shirt and gently smoothed her hands out against his shoulders  when she finished. "I'm sorry you got hurt," she said. 

"Why?"

"Because…" she bit her lip and looked up at him. 

There were tears in her eyes, and it was enough to reignite the pain in his heart that he tried to ignore. 

"Because I hate when you get hurt," she whispered.  

"I would have endured a lot worse to keep you safe," he said just as softly.

She shook her head slowly.  "Why?" 

He smiled and grabbed her hands and squeezed them gently.  "You know why," he held her gaze for just a beat longer before letting her go and stepping away.  

It's because I love you… 

He did. He loved her more than anything. It was an oddly freeing feeling, finally accepting it, but at the same time, he didn't want to overwhelm her, so he decided he should make an effort not to be overly affectionate, even though he really wanted to.  

"I'll be back," he said as he left the bathroom. 

Clorinde followed him up to his bedroom door. She was frowning, and as soon as he saw that adorable pout on her lips he paused with one hand on the door. 

"I'll just be a few minutes," he said. "Did you want anything specific to eat?"

She shook her head.  "No… anything will be fine."

He nodded and reached out and grabbed her hand.  "Everything okay?"

She blushed and pulled the front of his shirt that she was wearing down in an attempt to extend the coverage at her hips.  "Yes, I just uh…do you have any—" she bit her lip and sighed.  "Nevermind… uh,  don't forget the tea," she mumbled. 

He chuckled softly and squeezed her hand.  "Gotcha," he left his room and went directly to a closet in his office.  He knew what she needed, at least right now.  

Growing up,  he learned how to read Clorinde like an open book.  He used to think she changed drastically from the girl he used to know, but the more time he spent with her the more he realized how wrong he was, and how much of a fool he'd been.

She wasn't very hard to read when he actually paid attention like he used to. 

The Fortress took on new employees on occasion, and ever since he took over he made sure to supply the required uniforms himself. It didn't make sense to expect employees to purchase new outfits for work if it required a specific uniform. However, if they damaged the free ones they had to pay for the replacements unless the damage was work related. 

Most of the employees were men, but there were women that worked for the Fortress too, and he supplied uniforms for everyone equally. 

Wriothesley dug out the box of women's uniforms and sifted through them until he found the size that would best fit Clorinde. It would be a generic fit, but it would suffice until she got home. 

He gave a quick knock on his bedroom door just to alert her before he walked back in. 

Clorinde was sitting on the edge of his bed fussing with her hair when he walked in. She looked up at him in surprise.

"Back already? Did you forget something?"

He shook his head and handed her the folded uniform. "Here, these are clean,  I figured you'd appreciate wearing something clean."

She took it and inspected the bundle. "Oh! Thank you so much," she laughed and sighed heavily.  "You have no idea how much I was fretting over putting on my clothes again… I mean,  not that I couldn't do it, but I was worried they reeked…"

"You don't need to explain yourself, Clo, I got you," he said honestly. "Just don't be afraid to tell me if you need something, even if you think it's silly."

She blushed and clutched the clothes to her chest. "You're too nice," she mumbled.

"I just care about you," he said and left to go get some food and of course prepare the tea. 

When he returned to his room Clorinde was in the bathroom putting liner on her eyes. The door was open, so he could see that she elected to wear the tights and skirt that were part of the uniform though she kept his shirt on. It provided her a much more comfortable look while also retaining that business professionalism that looked so good on her. The purple cape and hat also seemed to pop more thanks to being the only color she wore.

Sexy… 

He tried his best to repress his grin as he walked in to peer at her through the mirror. He hugged her from behind and rested his cheek against her head, and the way she relaxed back against him felt like she melted.  It made him squeeze her just a bit tighter, and he fell for her just a bit deeper.

She held his gaze through the mirror in silence for a few minutes until she looked down and sighed.

"What are you thinking?" She asked quietly.

"Right now? Not much actually," he said honestly. 

She frowned. "Nothing at all? My mind has been racing all morning…" 

Wriothesley smiled wryly and squeezed her.  "Of course you'd be."

Her frown turned into a pout. "What does that mean?"

"It means I got you breakfast, come on, " he squeezed her once more and walked away. 

She followed him to his office and he sat down at his couch where he put the food and tea.

Clorinde grabbed the tea first but frowned when she saw the cup. "This isn't my cup…" she mumbled to herself.  

Hearing that put a grin on his face.  The fact that she noticed he'd designated a cup to her thrilled him, add in the fact that she considered it hers made it even better. 

He feigned ignorance. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked. 

Clorinde shook her head and sipped the tea.  "Nothing…" 

"Clo."

She looked up at him with a pout. "What happened to the other cup? I rather liked that one…"

"Unfortunately it got cracked yesterday," he didn't have to explain further because realization flitted across her face and her posture sagged. 

"Oh, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to break it,  how much was it? I can pay you back," she offered.

Wriothesley shook his head. Her reaction was enough motivation for him to decide to get it fixed.  It was her cup after all… 

"No need, love, I've got plenty to spare," just then he decided to not only fix the cup, but get it specially done. Maybe I'll commission someone from Liyue or Inazuma to fix it… 

There was an intriguing practice of fixing porcelain with melted down gold in Liyue, while in Inazuma, amethyst was used.  Either color would complement the cup nicely, but he only had to think about it once to decide what would look best in Clorinde's graceful hands. 

Imaging the look on her pretty face when he surprised her with the fixed cup made him grin like an idiot so he hid it as best he could by taking a sip from his own teacup. 

"I'm really sorry, " Clorinde whispered. Her voice shook at the end and she clutched the plain white cup closer to her chest.

"It's really not a problem, Clo, think nothing of it," he insisted, but that didn't seem to appease her. The frown on her face only deepened. 

"I don't get it," she mumbled. "Are you really not bothered by anything that happened yesterday?"

Yesterday… 

Wriothesley knew this was coming. He figured she'd been fretting ever since she woke up, but he didn't share the feeling.  They survived, what else was there?

Add in the fact that they slept together and she asked him out… well he was still practically on cloud nine… 

Maintaining a level head was taking more effort than he wanted it to, he was thrilled to say the least, but he didn't want her to think he wasn't taking her seriously. He understood why she would be so shaken still.

"Clorinde, I'm honestly not bothered because you made it out unscathed, also, I guess I'm still in disbelief that everything turned out so well," he never liked to brag about anything he did, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't proud of his efforts. 

"You got to admit, Clo, I looked pretty badass didn't I?" He asked.

Her violet eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

He was really only joking,  partly. "Kind of…" he grinned sheepishly.  "C'mon, Clo, you don't think that'd be a cool story to tell your kids? How you were heroically saved by the first Duke of Meropide?" He gave her arm a playful jab, but he really wanted to grab her and kiss her breathless. He'd been wanting to all morning, anytime he looked at her too long the feeling grew. 

Clorinde laughed lightly.  "Ha, I'm sure you'd love to become a local legend."

He could only grin in response, and she shook her head and sipped her tea. 

"You're such a boy," she murmured over the cup before sighing softly.  "Besides, I'm over the hill, and I would be a terrible mother anyway…"

Wriothesley wasn't sure if he was meant to hear that last part, but he did, and he couldn't disagree more. 

Sure she was older than most in Fontaine that started families, but he didn't think she was over the hill, and he didn't agree with her second comment either. 

However, now didn't seem like an appropriate time to ask her if she remembered their conversation about what their kids would be like… 

Now he was thinking about it again…

Oh,  he'd haved wanted them to take after her immense loyalty and strength.

The urge to kiss her was back again, but this time it was so strong that it made his heart race. 

He snapped out of it when he noticed her dab at the corner of her eye with a napkin. 

He leaned forward and grabbed her free hand. "Hey,  are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I-I just can't…you almost died yesterday, how can you act as if nothing happened?"

Wriothesley looked down and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. She had a few calluses on her hand,  but it still felt dainty and smooth to him.

He sighed heavily and finally allowed himself to fully go over what happened yesterday. His bout with the primordial sea. The fact that he looked death in the eye twice in just a few moments. The desperation to make sure he didn't mess up, that he was able to accomplish such a feat. 

The fact that the love of his life seemed determined to die at his side… 

"To be honest, I haven't really had the opportunity to really think about it all…" he sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  "I've actually been closer to death before, so I guess I didn't really feel threatened. I was also more focused on your safety rather than my own."

A tear fell on her hand and he quickly looked up to catch her pulling her hand away from him and hiding her face.  

"I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I-I don't mean to look so weak… I know it's over, and I'm really sorry for not listening to you… I'm sorry for stressing you out…a-and I'm sorry for throwing myself at you like that afterwards…"

That was the last thing he wanted to hear.  

One,  because he loved this woman more than he knew how to explain, and two, well, he loved her damnit. That on top of the fact that he was pretty sure she was the one that lost something yesterday. 

"Clo, why are you apologizing for that?" He asked. He was pretty sure they already established yesterday that she wanted something more with him. He needed clarification, and he wanted to give her the chance to speak before he let himself think too much.

She took a deep breath and looked back at him. "I just don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you."

Of course she'd worry about that… 

He sighed and squeezed her hand. "I appreciate how much you care about me, Clo, but please understand that I did not feel taken advantage of,  in fact I would have gladly slept with you ages ago if only you asked me to."

Her eyes grew even wider and her face flushed a bright red.  "Wriothesley! I'm being serious."

"Oh me too, sweetheart, you have no idea how serious I am," he smirked.  "In fact,  I do believe I attempted to offer just that some time ago, though I recall you thinking I wasn't serious. Though I can't say I was completely disappointed with how things turned out that day," he said and gave her a wink.

Her blush deepened and she snatched her hand away. "You're impossible," she grumbled. "You were sleep deprived! I'm a horrible—"

Wriothesley held his hand up to stop her. "We can put that behind us, Clorinde,  all of the stress and anxiety that we caused each other is in the past. I may have resented you at one point, but I never hated you, you were always special to me, and like I said yesterday, I really am sorry for how I treated you," he cupped her cheek in his hand and gently tilted her face up so he could look her in the eyes. "You can forgive me, right?" He asked. 

"Yes,  of course!" She said immediately. 

He smiled and gently rubbed his thumb over her cheek.  "Then give yourself that same grace."

Clorinde blushed and lowered her eyes.  "I'll try," she whispered. 

"Good, now,  why don't you tell me what has been on your mind all morning?"

She sighed heavily and turned to face him better. "There are a lot of things, and I don't know where to start."

He smiled wryly and squeezed her hand. "Just start with what comes to mind first, I can help you sort through it if you need it."

 Clorinde squeezed his hand back and smiled slightly. "I  guess I… I guess I just want to start with… thank you."

"Hm? For what?"

"One, for saving my life," she turned his hand over and gently traced over the lines of his palm. "And not just for yesterday, you know you actually saved my life twice…" she took a deep breath. "I'm sure you remember the embarrassing wreck I was in when I accepted your commission after those two years of silence.  I had actually been very depressed during that period… I wasn't eating right, hardly sleeping, and started drinking more than I should of… 

"I know it was very selfish of me to put that on you, but I'm so grateful that you decided to give me a chance, even though I know I hurt you,  I don't know if I'd still be here if you didn't decide to tolerate me… looking forward to getting your commissions gave my life new meaning," she laughed softly. "I promise I'm not the clingy type…"

Wriothesley didn't realize his throat was burning until she looked up at him with that sad smile of hers. He didn't know what to say to that. Just thinking about Clorinde giving up hurt. He would have never forgiven himself if something happened to her,  whether by her own hand or not… 

"I'll be here as long as you want me to be," he said around the lump in his throat.  He said it to her before, and he meant it then just as much as he did now.  If she'd had asked him to stay back then,  he would have.  

"I do want you,  Wriothesley… I'm so glad to have you, in fact,  don't believe me if I ever tell you to leave again, unless I put it in some kind of official document." 

He laughed dryly. "Oh? Like a restraining order?"

Clorinde nodded, her expression dead serious. "Yes, that's a great idea."

He laughed again, this time truly. Even he couldn't imagine that scenario, but that only helped him relax as he didn't realize how tense he'd been. 

"I was only joking,  Clo,  you don't need to go to such lengths if—"

"No, I'm not joking though,  I think this needs to be said,  because I really want to see where we go from here, I-I want to still have you by my side in five years," she bit her lip and looked up at him. Her eyes were watery, and it made her eyes look like gems.  "But I can't imagine it,  and I don't want you to think I don't want… you."

"You can't imagine it? Where else would I be?" He asked patiently. 

"Anywhere…" she laughed briefly before her face fell into a deep frown. "I know I must sound ridiculous  but,  sometimes when I look at you,  I feel like I'm dreaming… like there is no way you'd actually want me… in any capacity," her eyes watered and she let his hand go and hugged her arm instead. "It's like… I'm looking at a ghost… " 

A ghost? 

Not sure what to say, he silently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap so he could hug her with all his strength. 

Once again he was reminded of how small she felt curled up like this, with her face buried in his chest.  

The only thing that he could think of was that his absence must have affected her more than he thought.  

Fifteen years was a long time for anyone, it was a lifetime for many.  Sure he already served his time for his crimes, but what about the damage he unintentionally caused to the one person he's never wanted to hurt? 

What about the pain of abandonment that he forced her to go through? 

Sorry could only go so far, and it certainly couldn't heal the pain of almost twenty years of sorrow. 

"What can I do to help make it feel more real for you?" He asked while he absently rubbed her back. 

"I dunno…" she mumbled.  "I'm sorry,  I'm sure I'll get over this dilemma soon…" 

Wriothesley leaned back just enough to see her face.  Her cheeks were tearstained, and her makeup was ruined.  He took out his handkerchief and gently started to clean her face.  

"You don't have to do it alone, sweetheart, we can take things slow, just start with dinner, " he rubbed the last of the dark stains from her face and tucked her hair behind her ear.  "I can take you somewhere nice if you'd like,  you don't have to worry about making anything yourself."

She blushed and shook her head. "I don't want to go back on my word,  I said I'd make the food, so I can't just give up just because I broke down like a—"

He pressed his fingers against her lips.  "Don't,  you don't have to feel guilty over showing emotion," he moved to cup her cheek instead. "Let me take you out,  Clorinde,  and if you decide you want a second date,  then you can treat me if you'd like."

"But, you don't think it's an issue for me to back out at the last minute?" She asked, frowning. 

He shook his head.  "Nope, unless of course you don't want to go at all, but even then it won't be an issue, though I'll be bummed that's for sure." 

Clorinde sighed and bit her lip.  "Are you sure?"

"Clo, I've literally dreamed about taking you on a proper date, besides people change their plans all the time,  there's no harm in it," he also just really wanted to spoil her. He wanted to take care of her,  put that lovely smile back on her face that he loved oh so much.  

She sighed again and nodded.  "Okay… since you seem so insistent." 

He grinned and gave her a messy kiss on her cheek on impulse.  "Great!" He pulled her back into a hug and pressed another kiss into her hair. 

She laughed softly and hugged him back before letting go and standing up. "Okay then… I need to redo my makeup… I'm sorry I keep crying in front of you, I know it's very unattractive and—"

"Hey, stop apologizing, and you look lovely either way, there really isn't a need." 

Clorinde rolled her eyes and took out her pocket mirror. "This face definitely needs a bit of assistance," she mumbled.

Wriothesley decided to just leave it at that.  He was just glad that she was able to express some of her troubles and open up.  Watching her apply the lipstick and liner to her face was also very intriguing. 

It was like watching someone painting a picture of the starry sky. Both things were works of art, the real thing, and the canvas, both were beautiful.

Clorinde glanced at him after a few minutes and smiled.  "What?"

"Hm?"

She crossed her arms.  "You're staring."

"Hm, I was?"

"Yes, rather blatantly as well."

He smiled back.  "Does it bother you?"

She huffed and put her mirror away.  "No, I was just curious over what you were thinking about, but now I'm guessing you weren't thinking about much, were you?"

He grinned and stood up.  "Only that you're beautiful," he slipped his arm around her and pulled her into his side. 

She gasped softly and narrowed her eyes when he leaned into her face.  "I just redid my lipstick, don't even mfph—"

He kissed her anyway, 

He kissed her long and slow, until his blood ran hot, until she melted against him and his arms around her waist were the only thing supporting her.  

When he finally broke the kiss he was just as breathless as she was.  

"—Think about it…" Clorinde finished in a whisper. She licked her lips and sighed.  "You're impossible," she said, smiling. 

Wriothesley smirked and kissed her one last time before letting her go.  "Come on, I'll walk you back to the surface now."

She huffed and took her mirror out again and followed behind him as she retouched her makeup, again. 

They walked in a comforting silence, the sound of their footsteps the only prominent sound between them.  He still could hardly believe all of the events that took place just yesterday, but he was more worried about what was to come.  

Fontaine wasn't out of the storm yet,  and he had to check on the construction of the wingalet, but right now,  as selfish as it seemed, he wanted to focus on building up and repairing his relationship with Clorinde. 

"Okay,  I guess I'll see you later," Clorinde said once they got to the surface. "Uh, what time should I be ready? And do you want to meet anywhere specific?"

Wriothesley took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. "Ah, I almost forgot it was so early," he rubbed his eyes and repressed a yawn. "I'll come by your house to pick you up around six, does that sound good?"

She nodded.  "Okay, are you going to tell me what you're planning?"

Wriothesley moved back onto the lift to return to the Fortress.  "It's a surprise, sweetheart, just make sure you wear a dress, yeah?"

Her eyes widened.  "I only have one, and it's very casual…"

"Perfect, wear it,  I'll see you soon," he said and gave her a wink just as the lift took him down. 

The hours until six felt like they dragged by,  Wriothesley spent the majority of the day going through paperwork regarding supplies needed to repair the gates and looking over updates on the wingalet.  The ship was coming along nicely, but there were a few features he wanted it to have that were newly inspired by his encounter with the Primordial seawater that set development back a little. 

Jurieu cleared his throat loudly. "Your Grace?  Have you decided yet? "

Wriothesley blinked and refocused on his technical assistant.  "Hm?"

He scoffed.  "You weren't listening?  I just finished going over the new cost estimation based on your adjustments,  it's a lot of mora, and manpower. Finding the needed supplies in such quantities will be expensive if we still want to meet your deadline."

Wriothesley yawned and took his pocket watch and absently twirled it.  He was so tired.  He felt like he's been up for two days already, even though it's only been one.  "Lourvine, what kind of books do you like reading?"

"Huh?" She looked up from her notebook , her eyes wide in surprise. "You're asking me, Your Grace?"

"Yes, my dear, I don't see another Lourvine around."

"Oh, uh,  I enjoy reading historical manuscripts and legal—"

Wriothesley frowned. "You don't expect me to believe you read that stuff on your down time." 

"Your Grace, what does her reading habits have to do with work?  She has terrible tastes in literature anyway,  I wouldn't recommend going down that rabbit hole," Jurieu said. 

Lourvine slammed her notebook shut. "I do not! I read lots of award winning and prestigious works! You just don't have taste!"

"You read fantasy nonsense!"

"I do not!"

"Yes,  I saw you giggling at your book the other day,  I can only deduce its contents must be of the degenerative nature to have a grown woman squealing like that."

She gasped in offense.  "I was on break!  You are spying on me?!"

"No! You were just so obnoxious I unfortunately noticed! " Jurieu snapped. 

"What's your favorite title?" Wriothesley asked. 

She turned her attention back to him and cleared her throat.  "W-Well, my absolute favorite belongs to the Dark Rose series—"

"No way you just—" Jurieu pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Your Grace,  please, as a fellow guy, pretend you didn't hear what she said.  You'll thank me, I promise."

Lourvine blushed and threw her pen at Jurieu.  "It's just a dark fantasy!"

"I saw that page you were on! That is a fraudulent statement! "

"There's a tea called dark rose, it's a relatively new tea made in Liyue," Wriothesley said absently as he checked the time for the umpteenth time only to see he had less than an hour to get ready to go.  "Shit, I've got to go, " he stood and turned to leave.  "I don't care about funding, Jurieu, make it happen," he called over his shoulder.

He hurried back to his room and opted to change into a more formal button down,  though he left the rest of his typical outfit intact. Clorinde said her dress was of the casual nature, and he didn't want her to feel out of place, but at the same time,  any dress was more formal than her typical outfit. Wriothesley tied his tie properly and grabbed his coat off the wall. 

He dug out a few things from his desk drawer and put them in his pocket.  He'd recently finished a small personal project, and figured today would be a good chance to put it to use. 

If he hurried he could stop by a bookstore to look for the book Lourvine mentioned. He knew Clorinde worked with the two researchers a lot in the past thanks to the assignments he gave her.  And he figured Lourvine must have talked about something other than work with Clorinde while she was with them.  

He also knew Clorinde liked fantasy novels as a teen, so he was willing to bet there was a chance she'd like this book series Lourvine seemed so passionate to defend.

Wriothesley found the first book of the series, which was fittingly named, Dark Rose. It sported a black cover  with a painting of a dying rose on the front. He was in the middle of reading the summary when he saw someone approach him from his peripheral. 

"Good afternoon, Monsieur! Can I help you?"

He glanced up to see an attractive woman standing there with a small smile. She was wearing a rather modest pastel dress. Her eyes were a similar color but it was hard to tell because her fringe hid much of her face. 

"Hm, have you ever read "The Lady of the Lake"?" He asked curiously. It was once one of Clorinde's favorite books.

"Oh yes, that's a classic, I love that book, too bad it doesn't have a sequel, it was my favorite as a teenager," the lady gushed. 

"Hm, and have you read this?" He asked as he showed her the book in his hand. 

Her eyes widened. "Oh! I have! The author is a huge fan of 'The Lady of the Lake', but I love that book too, it's very popular…. but, uh,  I don't think you'd like it," she laughed briefly.  "Uh, I can take you to a different section that I'm sure will be more fitting."

He shook his head.  "No need,  I'll just take this, I've got somewhere to be in—" he checked his pocket watch again.  "Oh,  fifteen minutes. Can you ring me up?"

"Of course, " she hurried to the front counter. "Is this book a gift for a lady friend by any chance?" 

"Mhm, oh, do you know of any small cafe's around that are not too busy?  The one I used to frequent has lost my patronage, I've got a few in mind, but I'm not from around here, so I'm curious to know what you'd think."

"Oh, well,  I'm not too adventurous, but if I want a quiet evening with a book,  the cafe on south street is my go to.  It's quiet and has the best desserts, I could stay there all day with a cup of coffee and a slice of cake," she smiled to herself and handed him back the book in a nice bag. 

"Do they have tea?"

"Oh, yes, they're a small family business, and take pride in their quality of both teas and coffees. I couldn't recommend it more," she said happily. 

"Sounds great!  Thank you,  Mademoiselle," he stopped with his hand on the door.  "Oh, by the way, thought I'd mention, that dress looks very nice on you,  the pastel colors bring out how bright your eyes are."

"Oh! T-Thank you!" She blushed and clutched her hands together.  "That's the nicest thing I've heard in a long time. I hope you have a good evening, please come again!" 

"I just might," he said and hurried out the door. 

Wriothesley made it to Clorinde's townhouse right at six o'clock, she was already outside, sitting on her steps with a small box in her lap.  

Her hair was down and fell around her shoulders in generous violet ribbons. She wore a white blouse with frills and a long black a-line dress.  As soon as she saw him she smiled and Wriothesley couldn't help but grin back. 

It felt a bit strange standing on her street again,  but he ignored the feeling along with the negative memories that surrounded the last time he was here. 

This was a new chapter, and he wanted to make the best of it. 

"Good evening,  Mademoiselle, I'm looking for someone,  would you be able to help me out?" He asked while trying to repress his stupid grin.  He could tell she was nervous , and he wanted to try and get her to loosen up a bit.

Clorinde's brows furrowed in confusion.  "Hm? Who are you looking for?"

"Well, you see, I was supposed to go on a date with this pretty lady I met not too long ago, but I fear she's stood me up," he said with a sigh.

"Um…" her brows furrowed deeper and she fussed with her skirt.  "Are you serious?" 

"Yes," he walked closer to her and picked a rainbow rose out of her neighbor's flower box. 

"Hey,  you can't just steal people's flowers," she whispered. 

"I had a whole evening planned and everything," he winked at her and held the flower out. "Would you be willing to keep me company tonight instead? I promise it'll be worth your while." 

Clorinde's frown slowly turned into a smile and she rolled her eyes. "You're such a boy," she whispered. 

"Mhm, is that a yes?" He asked. 

She looked around and slowly took the flower from him and brought it to her face. "I don't know, Monsieur, I'm waiting for someone too, and I don't want him to feel the way you are now." 

He grinned. "Ah, anyone that would keep you waiting surely isn't deserving of your time."

"I suppose you're right, but you know,  it's only proper to introduce yourself, especially to a lady you're making advances on," she said.

"Oh, forgive me, my name is Wriothesley," he bowed and held his hand out. "Pleased to meet you~"

She snickered and took his hand and he pulled her close so that their noses almost touched.  "Clorinde…" She whispered softly. 

"What a lovely name," he murmured, and rubbed his nose against hers for a brief second, "a lovely name for a lovely lady," he said before pulling away and offering her his arm.

Cheeks tinted a similar shade to the rainbow rose in her hand, she grabbed onto his arm with a small smile that stayed on her face all the way until she was seated across from him at the little Cafe the bookstore employee recommended. 

The atmosphere of the establishment was exactly like the lady had described and he figured he'd have to thank her some time. His own plans were more focused on after they had dinner, so he was grateful that he decided to ask for suggestions.  

"What a lovely place," Clorinde murmured as she looked around. "It feels very old fashioned,  like something you'd find out in the country. 

She fell silent after that, but her little smile stayed on her face so he felt no need to try and come up with small talk. He liked  simply watching her. Every now and then she'd glance up at him, but she'd quickly look away once their eyes locked, leaving her cheeks tinged pink. 

He was so focused on her face that he didn't even notice she placed the small box she'd brought with her in front of him.  

"Ahem, Your Grace?"

Wriothesley blinked and smirked.  "Who?"

She huffed.  "I just wanted to give this to you,  I know you said I didn't have to worry about making anything, but I felt the need to do so anyway."

He looked down and opened the box, revealing a bunch of mini muffins. "Wow,  they smell so good," he grabbed one and popped it in his mouth. 

He did not expect the flavor at all. He had to try another to make sure he wasn't imagining it. 

"Clo, are these earl gray muffins?" He asked,  bewildered. 

She nodded.  "Yes, what do you think?"

"They're amazing!" He grinned and ate another.  "Wow this is such a great idea,  thank you."

She smiled and folded her hands in her lap.  "I'm glad you like them,  I was worried you wouldn't like how they turned out."

"My new favorite great treat," he winked and held up the bag he got. "Funny enough I got you something too, though I really don't know if you'd like it, you can always resell it of course," he handed her the bag. 

Clorinde peeked inside the bag and gasped.  "Oh my goodness…I've had this book recommended to me a few times already," she pulled it out of the bag and inspected the back.  "How did you come across it?"

"I just asked around for what was popular, I don't really know what it's about aside from the vague summary," he shrugged. "But I'm willing to bet you will like it."

"Hm, okay, I'll let you know, " she smiled and slipped it back in the bag.  "It's been a long time since I read anything for fun, thank you."

"Mhm," he tucked the box of treats she made him in his coat and placed some mora on the table. "It's getting late, are you ready to go?"

"Oh, yes,  I suppose I am," she bit her lip and glanced out the window.  

The sun was setting, Wriothesley could tell she wanted to object to leaving already, but he was excited to get to what he'd really been planning for this evening. 

She took his arm as he walked her out. As soon as he passed her street she looked up at him in confusion.

"Uh, where are we going?"

"You'll see~" he said with a grin. 

Clorinde narrowed her eyes, but allowed him to drag her all the way outside of the city without question.

Wriothesley took her to their old hangout spot beside the water, and only then did he let her go. 

"So I've been working on something on and off for a while now," he said as he dug in his pocket for the gadget he brought with him. "I almost scrapped the project a few times, but for whatever reason I kept working on it now and then," he grabbed her hand and led her to a rock so she could sit on it. "I have to admit I haven't tested it aside from making sure it can fit, and it's only a prototype, but I'm confident it will be fine." 

Clorinde smiled in amusement.  "What are you talking about?"

He grinned and grabbed her ankle and swiftly hooked the device over her shoe. It fit perfectly. 

 Clorinde tilted her foot to inspect it.  "An ice-skate?" 

"Mhm, but it should be able to adjust to fit on any shoe and you can fold it so it can fit in most pockets," he explained eagerly. 

She shook her head but still held out her other foot so he could fasten on the other one.  "Where exactly do you plan on using these?  It's not exactly snowing yet, and the only ice rink is way out by the opera house."

"Babes, come on, " he secured his own skates and pulled her to her feet and started pulling her back.   "You forgot already?"

"Wriothesley, you've been quite secretive today, I'm not sure what you mean," she said. 

He grinned again and pulled her further out onto the water.  He started to move back just a bit faster so the wind could pick up.  As soon as it did she looked down and gasped, losing her balance. 

Wriothesley laughed and spun her around so he could use the momentum from her sudden moments to straighten her out, making sure to keep the ice he was making at their feet as smooth as possible.  

"Oh my gosh! You– oh– how neat!" As soon as she regained her balance she clung to his shirt. "I'm not good at this at all, when did you have time to learn?"

"I used to take my younger siblings skating on occasion," he said as he led her carefully over the ice.  "We didn't go often because we weren't allowed outside without supervision, but those few moments were precious to me." 

Her face softened and she squeezed his hand. She didn't say anything, but he still understood what she was trying to tell him. 

Wriothesley smiled slightly and grabbed her other hand and spun her around again. 

He never did get into all of the horrors that went on at the place he grew up at, but one day he would.  He wanted to tell her.  He wanted to share with her the real reasons behind why he was so thin as a kid, on why he started living in the street, but now wasn't the right time to get into that. 

But he planned on telling her soon. She was, after all,  the reason why he didn't die of starvation. She was the reason why he kept up his studies on mechanics and clockwork devices, because she always seemed so excited when he showed her his silly gadgets. 

He took her round and round atop the water until the stars reflected down on the water's surface,  giving off the illusion that they were floating in a sea of stars. 

The smile that took over her face was beautiful, and every time he spun her around, she would giggle much like she used to when they were teens.  

It was precious, seeing her smile and laugh so freely. It was so like her and so unlike her at the same time. He wanted to see her smile and laugh like this more often, and each time she looked up at him,  with that pretty smile decorating her lips,  he fell for her just a bit deeper than before. 

Now that he wasn't fighting it anymore,  he fell faster and harder than he thought he could.  

When he finally led her back to shore, he knelt down to help her take the makeshift skates off. 

He took one off, along with her shoe and gave her foot a firm massage.  He knew her feet were probably sore, and he wanted to help ease the pain. 

"You don't have to do that," Clorinde whispered. 

"Mh, I want to," Wriothesley said. As soon as he looked up at her a memory resurfaced that made his throat burn.

The last time he knelt in front of her on this beach the night sky was also as clear as a mirror.  She wore her hair down back then too, and the smile on her face was just as soft as the one that decorated her face now.

…

I've nothing to offer you right now except a shoulder to lean on and a willingness to listen for hours on end,  but I know someday I'll be able to give you the world.  You're my best friend, and I love you, and I'd be honored if I could have your hand, so I could also love you as my wife.

…

He looked down quickly to break eye contact, and hopefully mask the emotions swirling through him.  

Just where would they be now if he hadn't acted so rashly?  Would they be in Mondstadt like he had once hoped? Back then he knew nothing about the distant nation except that it was known as the City of Freedom, and back then,  freedom was all he longed for. 

But now, he wasn't really a fan of wine… 

They only had one conversation about kids before he left and destroyed any chances of a future together… She'd mentioned wanting to name their theoretical son after him… The thought was bittersweet, because he no longer liked the idea. At least not what the name would have been. 

But he still liked the name Collette for a girl…

..

It's too late for any of that… 

"I should take you home now," he said suddenly and stood with a sigh. 

Clorinde hooked her arm around his and leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked with the cover of night hiding them, but as soon as they reached the city lights, she pulled away.  

He'd been shocked out of his mind when she actually said yes all those years ago. The fact that she had wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone like him made him happier than he knew the words to explain. But he ruined it. 

All he could do now was pick up the pieces left behind, even if each piece made him bleed. 

Chapter Text

Over the next few weeks Clorinde did her best to visit Wriothesley when she could, but things were a bit hectic at work, and she was only able to see him a small handful of times. The few times she did visit he was always in the middle of something.  He would drop what he was doing to talk to her, but she felt guilty for interrupting him, because he always looked exhausted. 

She wasn't sure what was going on, but it was enough to  bury him in paperwork and meetings. 

On top of all that,  whenever they managed to steal a moment alone, all she really got was a kiss before someone interrupted them.

A guard, suppliers, or researchers, things were getting hectic at the Fortress too. Those kisses weren't innocent either, and each time they were interrupted the next was only more fervent.

But each time she went home feeling needy and hot, and would reacquaint herself with her hand for the evening. 

Because of that, she hesitated to make the journey to see him again. It was clear he had something going on, and she was only really in the way anyway.

She also didn't want rumors to start. She didn't want people making a big deal out of her personal life, and as a champion duelist with her renown, whether she liked it or not, they'd make a big deal out of it.  It would be even worse if they knew who exactly Wriothesley was.

She could already imagine the scandal. Surely people would wonder if there were nefarious things happening behind the scenes.  Was the Duke of Meropide working with the garde to compromise the conditions of prisoners? 

A ridiculous notion, but no doubt people would wonder.  They would question his integrity, and her own. Those that lost duels by forfeit were automatically imprisoned at Meropide, and she was the best Champion Duelist. The headlines practically wrote themselves. 

On top of all that, she wasn't sure exactly how to carry herself around him. Sure, they were seeing each other now, but she had no point of reference really on what was the right thing to do. Her idea of celibacy that she held onto in her youth was out the window in more ways than one, leaving her grasping for straws. 

"He probably doesn't even worry about any of this," she grumbled and sighed heavily.

Clorinde turned in her time card for the day.  She got off work today a little later than she usually did, but it didn't really matter. She had nothing planned and no one to return to. The only issue was finding something to eat. Many places to eat  in Fontaine closed just after eight, save for the more popular establishments that were company owned, but those were generally too fancy for a solo night, and it was already seven thirty. Most small family restaurants were closed. 

I could just have some bread and coffee. She thought with a sigh. It wasn't ideal for supper,  but you could never go wrong with a good cup of coffee. 

Clorinde said her farewells to her coworkers and left the building. 

The problem was she really wanted something hearty to eat. She only had an apple and some tea to eat today, and her stomach has been growling on and off all day. To top it off, they had some new trainees today, and she was asked to give a demonstration of her skill. The added physical activities and lack of proper food made her feel faint.

She felt a presence behind her that was suddenly too close for comfort.  She stopped walking and jabbed her elbow back, ramming right into someone's ribs. 

"Oof—"

She turned around to confront her pursuer only to gasp in shock. It was Wriothesley!  What is he doing here?!

 "Your Grace?! By the Seven,  I could have stabbed you or worse!" She hissed between her teeth. 

Wriothesley stepped back and gave her a lopsided grin. "Ah, that's gonna bruise…"

"I'm so sorry,  but what are you doing here?" 

He sighed and rubbed his side.  "Well,  I haven't seen you in awhile, so I figured I'd surprise you…" he waved his hands out in front of her.  "Boo, surprise," he laughed. 

Clorinde rubbed her temple and shook her head.  "You're unbelievable."

He stepped forward to hug her, but Clorinde quickly stepped out of reach. 

"Wait, Your Grace… my coworkers…" 

He frowned. "Hm? What's wrong?"

She crossed her arms and bit her lip. "I don't really think pda is a good idea…" 

"Wha? It's just a hug, love, what's wrong with that?"

She cleared her throat over him.  "Your Grace, please, not so familiar…"

Seeing the look on his face made her feel guilty, but her co-workers were just too chatty, and she could see some watching from the corner of her eye at a distance. They'll no doubt already be whispering over this simple interaction.  

"I would like things to be kept private…" she mumbled. 

"C'mon, sweetheart, people hug their friends all the time."

" Clorinde, doesn't hug anyone, Your Grace,  I'm sure you understand."

His frown deepened. "Well… I'm not just anyone, right?" 

"Your Grace…" 

He sighed and dug his hands in his pockets.  "Okay, okay… sorry."

"I'm really happy to see you though," she said quickly.  She didn't want to sound ungrateful to see him,  but she also wanted to make sure he understood what she was comfortable with. 

Despite her attempt to reassure him, his disappointment was still terribly obvious, and her guilt only grew.  

"Don't look at me like that," she whispered.

"Like what?" He said with an obvious pout.

"Like I just slapped you or something."

"I'd rather you did,  then I'd finally have a reason to put you in cuffs," he said with a smirk. "But don't worry, my favorite people get special treatment~"

Hearing the suggestive tone in his voice made her blush. "Y-Your Grace, please,  what if someone hears you?" She said through her teeth.

He shrugged.  "I don't really care,  Clo."

"I do!" She whispered. 

 "Alright, alright,  walk with me then?" He sighed heavily and turned down the street.

Clorinde sensed something in his demeanor changed, and she quickly fell into step beside him.  "Is everything alright, Your Grace?"

He kept walking in silence, and led her down to a deserted alley, and as soon as they were alone he turned to face her. "This better?"

She looked around in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you don't want to be seen in public with me, yes? There's no one around here, so we have a bit of time to chat."

Clorinde frowned And shook her head. "No, no, that's not what I meant," she bit her lip and grabbed his arm. "Wriothesley, I merely want to try and keep things private,  I don't care if we are seen together."

"Mhm," he leaned against the wall and stared at her in silence. 

Clorinde waited patiently for him to speak, though her concern was growing. "Wriothesley?"

"Hm, apologies…" he rubbed his hands over his face and smiled.  "How are you, sweetheart? I nearly forgot my manners."

"I've been okay, nothing really has come up. I've missed you though, are you doing well?" Clorinde said warily.

He nodded, but there still seemed to be something wrong.  "Yes, I'm doing well, I'm a bit shocked you've missed me," he chuckled. "Since you hadn't come by in a few weeks I thought something was wrong."

"No, of course not,  I noticed how busy you were when I would visit, so I thought it was better to leave you be for a while," Clorinde said. "I was also busy at work myself, so I just figured it was easier to focus on that…"

"Hm, tell me next time,  I've been wondering and agonizing over what I might have done…"

"I will,  I'm sorry. Is everything alright? You're acting a bit strange."

"I'm very frustrated right now, actually," he admitted with a sigh.

"Has something happened?" She asked,  concerned. 

"I'm honestly not sure yet," he started to fuss with his pocket watch. 

Clorinde watched him for a few beats before clearing her throat. "What do you mean?"

His frown deepened. "The ordeal with the Fatui and the primordial sea has unfortunately distracted me far too much, there's some suspicious activity going on in the Fortress, and right under my nose too!" He scowled and leaned down and got in her face. "Worst of all,  I've missed you…" he added quietly. "I really thought something was wrong…"

"I've missed you too," she said.  "And I'm really sorry for just disappearing.  I guess I'm just not used to having to tell someone where I'll be."

"It's okay, love."

That was enough to ease most of her concerns, because at least it meant he wasn't upset with her. However,  she could still tell something was bothering him. 

"What's going on in the Fortress? Do you need my help? Is that why you came all the way up here?" She asked curiously. 

When he didn't respond right away she reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

"Wriothesley, what's going on?" She asked in concern.  Whatever happened must be a big deal in order to affect him this way. If she could help him at all, she wanted to let him know that she would. 

He glanced at her face and offered a small smile.  "I actually did have a meeting, but I also wanted to see you," he sighed and let her hand go.  "I've been up here for a day or so already, I typically enjoy my outings, but so much has happened that every second I spend away from the Fortress is time wasted… although I have the guards picking up my slack, but they can only do so much…" 

"Do you have to go back now?" She asked. 

He grimaced and checked his pocket watch.  "I probably should…I'm waiting on a report from my guards, and they should be done soon."

"I'll go with you," she said without thinking.  "Maybe I could even help with whatever is going on."

Luckily she had a few days off, and no one to return home to, so it worked out on her end. 

"I hate to bother you…"

"You don't, at least not enough," she said in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

He smirked. "Careful what you wish for,  sweetheart, I can get on your nerves pretty easily if you give me the chance."

Clorinde smirked back.  "You're the only one allowed to."

"Ooh, what a privilege, I'm flattered."

"Mh, good, it's an opportunity I only give to my favorite people ."

He grinned and slowly leaned into her face again.

  "Favorite people, hm? Is there a list?"

She held his gaze for a few beats,  just admiring the details in his eyes. 

He really was handsome, more than that really.  She heard once that most men didn't like being called beautiful,  but Clorinde didn't think simply saying he was handsome really did him justice.

"Well, maybe, " she said and reached up to straighten his tie. She wanted to pull him down into a kiss,  but she was still a bit worried about being seen.  She also had a feeling if she crossed that threshold, it would be like opening a floodgate. 

She may be the one with electro capabilities,  but his proximity alone gave off so much energy, she swore the hair on her arms were standing on end. 

Clorinde kept her eyes on his as she carefully straightened and properly buttoned up his collar. When she tightened his tie she purposely let her fingers brush his neck. 

"What about you? Do you have a list?" She asked as she smoothed her hand over his shoulders.  

"You're a special scenario, sweetheart~"

"I'm flattered," she whispered and smiled sweetly before stepping away. "We should get back now, right?"

He frowned at her but didn't make a comment, but the pout on his face once again made her feel guilty.  

"Uh, why don't you fill me in on our way?" Clorinde asked in an attempt to distract him.

"There is a lot to cover…" he pursed his lips and glared at nothing in particular.  "So, on rare occasions I allow prisoners to form clubs, it was never allowed before,  any gathering was deemed equivalent to a gang, but in my stay, I saw how community could bring people together… mend the hearts of the lost so to speak."

"And the Fortress is better off I would think,"she said and picked up the pace in order to keep up with him.   

"I thought so too… until recently," his frown deepened. "A while back,  I approved the formation of a group called the beret society .  It was framed as a sort of rehab center for Meropide's most timid and harmless. Those wanting to return to their old lives one day,  to make amends. Of course I was all for the idea, and I even helped with resources…"

"That sounds great though,  what could be wrong?" Clorinde asked.

"That's the thing, I'm not quite sure, I've done what I can to look into it, but I haven't found anything yet.  I'm almost convinced I'm misguided, but my gut tells me there is something wrong."

Clorinde nodded slowly. "So you'd like me to do some digging?"

"I hate to bother you, but whenever people see me, they either clam up, or run off. I can't rest easy until I get to the bottom of this either."

"I can tell you haven't been resting," she said. The shadows beneath his eyes were much darker than usual. 

He glanced at her and smiled wryly. "Oh?  I must look ghastly then, " he chuckled. "Please forgive my ragged appearance…" 

Clorinde shook her head. "No, just exhausted, but worry not, I'll help you."

Wriothesley let her step into the lift leading down to the Fortress first before stepping in and closing the door behind him. 

She'd forgotten how small the space was, and even though she knew he wasn't purposely crowding her,  he naturally occupied more space than most.  She took advantage of the small space and allowed herself to lean back against him.  She heard him sigh quietly and he leaned his head on top of hers. 

The quiet hum of the lift as it descended served as an oddly comforting ambiance. She really has missed him, and knowing how stressed he's been only made her more determined to help.

"How does two hundred thousand mora sound?" He asked quietly.

"You don't have to pay me anymore,  Wriothesley," she said and leaned her head back against his shoulder so she could look at him.  

"Well,  what do you want instead?" He asked. 

"I don't need anything."

"That won't do, Clo, maybe I could give you—"

She turned just enough to press a kiss firmly against his lips. 

He immediately kissed her back, but only a beat passed before the lift reached its stop, and Clorinde pulled away.  

"Consider me rewarded," she whispered and walked off the lift. 

He followed her after a moment, easily catching up to and passing her so he could open the door to his office for her.  

"Is there a reason why you are suspicious of this group?" Clorinde asked once the door shut behind them. She wanted to get back to business just to distract him. 

"The members. Recently,  I noticed their behavior was strange whenever I was around," Wriothesley grabbed a few files from his drawers and handed them to her and sat down at his desk with a sigh.  "At first I figured they were just acting odd because of who I am, I get strange reactions to my presence now and again, especially from newer prisoners, but I've noticed that even with prisoners that have been here for awhile, there is something off about them."

Clorinde sat in the chair across his desk and quickly skimmed through the documents.  They were profiles about some of the prisoners. 

"Should I be looking at this?" She asked, concerned he might have given her the wrong folder. 

"Nope, those are the profiles for the prisoners I'm most suspicious of, and that one, " he pointed to one of the folders. "That's the leader of the group, Dougier, from what I know so far,  he's a well intentioned guy that wants to help people… but my last interaction with him reminded me of how a mediocre actor speaks."

"I don't know if I should be reading this though, " Clorinde clarified. "Isn't there a law against unauthorized —"

"Clo, have you forgotten already?"  Wriothesley leaned forward and opened the folder and gave the stack a smack. " I make the rules here, darling,  besides, you need to know what these guys are about in order to properly prepare yourself."

His serious tone made her blush, and she quietly looked over the details of this Dougier person.  He was sentenced to twenty years for fraud on multiple accounts, and even illegally ran a few stores out of business in order to keep his business without competition. 

Awful things, but nothing of the violent nature. But since Wriothesley insisted, she made sure to look over everything carefully. 

"What would you like me to do?" She asked once she finished. 

"Well, if you're up to it,  you could go to their hangout spot in disguise to see if you can spot anything out of place."

"Disguise? Like what? A guard?" She asked curiously. 

"Hmm, well I was thinking something more lowkey."

"Like?  Surely you don't intend to have me masquerade as a prisoner," Clorinde said.  It wouldn't work.  She didn't think her acting skills were close to even novice level. 

He chuckled and shook his head.  "No, no,  I think you could pull off a good researcher though,  you've already worked with my assistants, so surely you know the proper lingo…. Also—" he dug in his drawers and pulled out a pair of round glasses. 

Clorinde crossed her arms.  "Glasses? Wriothesley, not all researchers wear glasses."

"Lourvine and Jurieu do," he pushed them towards her.  "Besiiides, people down here are generally pretty simple… glasses equals smart, if you know what I mean." 

"Is this just an excuse to get me to wear those silly things?  I don't even need them,  I probably won't be able to see."

"Luckily, I had Jurieu put in normal glass, You're welcome. Now, lemme see how they look~"

Clorinde stared at him in disbelief. She almost wanted to argue, but the silly grin on his face was enough for her to sigh in defeat. She wanted to make him happy, and she so loved his smiles. If going along with this made him happy,  then she would relent. 

"Fine," she grumbled and put on the ridiculous looking glasses. 

Wriothesley smirked and hid his mouth behind his hand.  "Oh… wow…"

Clorinde frowned.  "What?"

He just giggled like a child and hid his face from her. 

She let him laugh it out until he peeked at her again, and his smile turned into the biggest grin. 

" What? Does it look that bad?" She asked , hesitant. 

"No, no!" He leaned over the desk and cradled her face in his hands.  "Gosh,  Clo, I love you so much, " he said and kissed her firmly on the lips. 

Even though he said it before, it was a highly emotional moment, and he hadn't said it since, so for him to say it out of nowhere like that really caught her off guard.

Her heart was racing. 

She kissed him back,  really let herself melt into it because it'd been awhile since they shared a proper kiss. However she had a job to do, and she didn't want to get too distracted, so she broke the kiss and leaned back to look at him.

"What's gotten into you?" She asked, amused.

He continued to steal kisses from her between almost each word. "I dunno… I've missed you, love,  and I don't know what kind of glass he used, but they make your eyes look so huge,  it's adorable."

She laughed lightly and pulled away.  "Now I have to see," she took her pocket mirror out and couldn't help but giggle like a child herself.

She looked ridiculous! 

"Oh my, no wonder you laughed at me. "

"Ah, no, I'd never laugh at you,  darling," he hid his face again, and Clorinde finally noticed he was blushing.

It made her smile. She liked that something so simple was able to make him laugh like that. 

She had no idea how long they sat there staring at each other, smiling like children,  but a knock on his door startled her out of it and she quickly took the glasses off. 

Wriothesley's smile immediately fell and he went to answer the door. 

Clorinde fussed with the glasses in her lap while he talked to whoever was at the door,  which sounded like a guard. 

Once again, they were interrupted, and they weren't doing anything! But this interruption bothered her more than the others because the moment they had reminded her so much of what they had in the past. 

His laugh was still stuck in her head. 

Just thinking about it made her heart swell with affection. 

She almost didn't want anyone else to see her wearing these silly things if only because of the way Wriothesley reacted when he saw her in them. She didn't care if he laughed, but she didn't want anyone else to laugh at her.

"Alright, thank you, " she heard Wriothesley say and he closed the door. He started waking back up the steps.  "That was the report I was waiting on."

Clorinde turned in her seat to look at him. He was holding a large box.  "What is that?"

"A shipment of contraband we intercepted," he said and set the box on his desk. "Occasionally we confiscate unauthorized items from the prisoners,  this is was supposed to go to Dougier."

Clorinde stood up and set the glasses aside on his desk and curiously peered in the box.  She expected weapons, or drugs of some kind, but all she saw was random curios. 

" This is contraband?" She said, mostly to herself. She knew contraband wasn't restricted to just weapons or the like, but in the overworld, items such as candy bars were not what one considered illegal. 

"Mhm,  we've got strict rules here on what is allowed in or out, that's were those glasses frames came from they were in a box we confiscated," he sifted through the box and stepped away with a sigh. "Hm, nothing of note…"

"So you just acquire whatever from these?" She asked. 

"Mhm, you can have whatever you want from the box, I don't see anything in here that stands out," he went back to his paperwork and started taking down notes. 

Clorinde watched him for a beat before her curiosity got the best of her and she started to look through the box.  This was very illegal activity in Fontaine. She wasn't authorized to just search through evidence! Just like that! But in Meropide… 

It felt so weird. 

Like she was going to get caught at any moment. 

She wasn't actually going to take anything though, she just wanted to look.

At the bottom of the crate she found an odd black gem wrapped in cloth.  The gem itself looked very alluring, as if a storm was captured inside. It felt a bit heavier than she expected just due to the size. The strangest thing about it was the texture. 

It looked smooth to the touch,  but she felt something strange that she couldn't quite tell what it was through her glove. Curious, she took one of her gloves off and rubbed one of the facets.

You're being followed, Clorinde!  

She glanced behind her and noticed two grown men following her. They were closing the distance to her fast and fear immediately hit her in the chest. 

Clorinde picked up her shirts and started to run.

She knew searching for him late into the night wasn't the smartest idea, but she knew if he was hurt that every second counted! 

Clorinde ran and ran until her throat burned, but the men behind her were quickly gaining on her.  

She opened her mouth to scream—

Murderer! 

Clorinde stiffened as Navia's agonized voice echoed in her heart.  

She was only doing her job! Please understand… 

But the blood cooling on her hands was answer enough.  She was a murderer… 

Why didn't she refuse the fight!?

I didn't think he'd refuse to surrender… 

Navia please. You have to understand, he could have surrendered at any time to end the fight,  i was only doing my—

Your job!? Your job?! My father is dead because of you!  Fuck your job! And fuck you!  Never speak to me again, Clorinde! 

.

S-Surely you value our friendship still…After everything that we've been through, shouldn't we preserve that?

The pain in his eyes was like a stake in her heart. 

You're asking me for something that kills me to give… 

..

One.

Clorinde pulled the trigger,  but it didn't feel like she did, even though she felt the recoil,  heard the bullet hit the lever, but the only thing she could see were the giant gates rapidly closing, closing with Wriothesley sprinting towards the entrance… towards her…  

All she could do was stand there and stare in horror as the final gate closed low enough to block him from view.

…

Clorinde dropped the crystal as if she'd been burned. It fell heavily onto his desk with a loud bang. 

Those memories hit her all at once. She thought she made peace with them,  but the fear and despair she felt in those moments felt like it had just happened to her, and at a much greater intensity. 

"Are you okay, love?"

From the corner of her eyes she saw Wriothesley reach for the stone. 

"Don't!" She yelled, but it was too late. 

He retracted his hand in a similar fashion that she did after only a split second. His eyes were wide and his face was paler than it should be. 

"Oh…" he blinked rapidly and looked up at her. 

The distress in his eyes was obvious, and she felt guilty that she couldn't warn him fast enough. 

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly. 

She nodded and grabbed his hand.  "Are you? I'm sorry I didn't warn you quick enough."

He frowned and laced their fingers together.  "I should be the one apologizing,  I should have checked each item more thoroughly…" He grabbed the cloth it was wrapped in and covered it again. 

Clorinde noticed his hand shook as he tucked it in his pocket, and she moved to stand beside him.  "Don't feel guilty," she said and pulled his head into her chest in a tight embrace. 

He turned towards her and wrapped his arms tight around her waist.  "Did you see anything?" He asked,  voice muffled.

"I did… terrible memories, except they felt new…" she leaned down to bury her face in his hair. 

"I'm sorry…" he whispered. 

Clorinde took a deep breath and just held him in silence. She didn't want to let him go, and his grip on her didn't loosen either, so she didn't try to pull away. 

Chapter Text

"How do I look?" Clorinde asked as she stepped out of his room. 

Wriothesley turned in his chair to see her standing there in the white blouse and gray dress that the researchers and engineers wore in the Fortress.  The navy overcoat vest hugged her figure quite nicely, and the golden bow really complimented her hair, which she had tied up in a messy bun.

"Sexy," he said without thinking. 

That didn't seem to be what she was looking for because she crossed her arms and scowled at him. 

"I'm being serious, Your Grace. Now isn't the time for jokes."

He hadn't been joking though.  She looked good in anything.  "Ah,  I swear, you're the first woman I've met  that doesn't appreciate being complimented," he complained. 

"I do appreciate compliments!" She huffed and walked over to him.  "When they are genuine."

"I don't know how I could even be more genuine, sweetheart… but fine, be like that," he handed her a notebook to use as a prop. "Feel free to actually take notes if you need to.  The goal is to just peruse the area, and see if you can get anyone to talk. Don't eat anything they give you, and don't touch anything if you can help it," he grimaced. "I don't know what other strange objects they might have at their disposal."

The ordeal with the crystal still put him on edge. He saw things that he wanted to forget.

The first time he discovered one of his disposed of siblings. That blank stare of death…

Those demons didn't even bother to close their eyes… 

The feeling of being stabbed repeatedly by the two people he once trusted the most. 

Wriothesley grimaced and absently rubbed his hand over the scars on his neck.  The scars bothered him.  It was odd. It almost felt like the injuries were new. 

Then there was the heartache… 

He was attacked on all sides.

The memory of Clorinde's pained voice, of the woman he loved telling him that she hated him.  Telling him that she didn't love him… 

It all felt fresh too. As if he just experienced those things.  

He wanted to just go to bed. 

"Your Grace? Are you okay?" Clorinde asked suddenly.

He hadn't noticed she'd moved to stand at his side. He frowned and rubbed his hands over his face. It was difficult trying to shake those feelings. 

He knew he had to focus on the current situation, but it was difficult. His motivation to do anything had plummeted since touching that cursed crystal. 

"Wriothesley?"

He snapped out of it and reached for her hand,  sighing in relief when she laced her fingers with his. 

"I really am sorry I put you through that, Clo…" 

She sat sideways in his lap. "No, don't blame yourself,  there was no way for you to know."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.  

She hugged him back and absently played with his hair.  If he didn't have that damn meeting to go to, he'd let himself drift off like his body wanted to do so badly. 

What the hell is Dougier doing with such a crystal?   

He'd done what he could to study it,  and though he had theories on what it was, the main concern was where did he get it? Could it have something to do with the primordial sea? Perhaps it contained a mixture of it? There was no way to safely know for sure… 

"You are okay,  right?" Clorinde asked.

Wriothesley refocused on her and tightened his hold on her.  "Yes, I'm just thinking about this situation as a whole," he sighed and buried his face in her hair.  "I miss you, Clo…" 

She laughed lightly.  "Whatever do you mean? I'm right here,  I've been here for the last few hours."

He pressed a kiss to her temple.  "I just dislike being so busy…" What he wanted to say was that he wanted to spend time with her without some kind of crisis hanging over their heads.  

"It'll be over soon," she said and gave his shoulder a squeeze before standing up. "When would be the best time to go?"

Wriothesley checked the time and stood up.  "Actually, now would be best," he reached into his pocket and handed her a different pair of glasses. He kept the round pair because of how cute they looked on her, but he also wanted to make sure she had a proper pair to wear.

These he had Lourvine make. They were much smaller and the lens was an amber color meant to cancel out the vibrancy of Clorinde's eyes, if only to buy into her disguise more. 

"More glasses. Your Grace?" Clorinde asked,  unamused. 

"These are better,  I promise, try 'em on for me, please, darling?" He asked hopefully. 

She sighed and put them on.  They really did look good on her. They put her ensemble together perfectly. 

"They look great, Clo, you pull off the astute researcher wonderfully."

She rolled her eyes, but he noticed her cheeks turn pink and he grinned. 

"Okay,  let's go then," he said and turned to leave. 

"Wait, I thought the plan was for me to go alone?"

"Originally, but after the crystal… I don't want to risk anything happening that I should be there for," Wriothesley said and stopped at the bottom of the steps to wait for her. "Besides, I'm supposed to show up for an evaluation anyway,  no harm if I'm a bit early, early is on time, right, sweetheart?" He added playfully. 

She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms. "A good habit to keep, I must say, anyways, since I'm wearing this whole disguise,  I believe it only makes sense for me to have an alias."

He was just going to bring that up.

"Mh,  do you have any ideas?" He asked and put his hand on the railing to trap her on the steps. The step she stopped on put her at eye level with him, and he took the opportunity to slowly lean into her face. 

Her brows furrowed in thought. "Uh… I was actually hoping you had something in mind, since this was your idea…" 

He smirked.  "I do, though I'd like to know what you have in mind."

She crossed her arms.  "Clearly nothing since I'm asking you."

"C'mon, humor me,  sweetheart."

She sighed and glanced to the side. She tapped her fingers against her arm while she thought.  "Um… Clo… e? Chloé?"

Wriothesley had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from grinning. It was too on the nose but he thought it was adorable that she was not only serious, but it was the first thing she thought of.

Oh, this woman… 

"Hm, that might work in a different situation, but I don't want the prisoners to think they could be so familiar with you," at this point he was so close to her face that he could kiss her.  

"Okay, so what was your idea?"

"How does Mademoiselle Cadieux sound?" It was the name of a young female soldier in a book she read to him as kids. 

"Sure."

"Mademoiselle Cadieux,  may I have a kiss?"

She turned her face away. "Your Grace! Mighty presumptuous of you!" She huffed. "Are you not supposed to introduce me to this Monsieur Dougier so I can finish my paper?" She said and hit him— lightly— on the head with the notebook he gave her. 

Wriothesley blinked at her in shock and could only watch her as she moved his arm and went to the door. 

"Your Grace? You're my guide, remember?" She said, frowning.

It took him a good five seconds to catch on to what she was doing and he looked away to hide his grin.  

She was teasing him. 

Despite the serious situation,  she sure knew how to lift his spirits. He would really rather just stay with her in his room with the gramophone playing in the other room while they had se— 

"Your Grace?"

—had tea . 

"Ah… my apologies,  Mademoiselle," he said once he regained his bearings.  He opened his door and gestured for her to go first.

Wriothesley led her to the part of the Fortress that members of the Beret Society gathered during their leisure hours.

 As soon as they approached, Wriothesley saw Dougier hurry over to greet them. 

"Greetings, Your Grace, We are honored by your visit. All of us at the Society have been waiting for your arrival," he smiled and turned to Clorinde, who was doing a great impression of a shy researcher hiding behind her notes…  "And who is your guest?"

Wriothesley cleared his throat. "This is Mademoiselle Cadieux, she's here at the Fortress for research purposes."

Dougier formally bowed. "Why good afternoon, Mademoiselle, I'm Dougier, the founder of this humble society."

Clorinde nodded. "A good afternoon to you too, Monsieur."

"Oho! I haven't been addressed so politely in ages, it's an honor to have such a wonderful guest! Are you hungry?  We've got plenty of snacks and drinks here, anything specific you'd like?"

"Mh, no thank you, I'm not in need of sustenance at this time,  though your gesture is truly appreciated," Clorinde said. 

"Perhaps you could stop by for a seminar in the future if you'd like, the society hosts a number of well attended seminars and workshops," Wriothesley said. 

Dougier chuckled.  "You flatter me, Your Grace. All we did was set up an organization in the same way as you would in the world above. It's so easy to feel lonely and helpless when you arrive here for the first time. I remember that feeling all too well. 

"None of us knew anything about this place then, after all. But that's when the thought came to me. If we could help everyone turn over a new leaf, they would no longer have to lead such gloomy existences. Thus, it was with the help of His Grace that I founded the Beret Society."

Clorinde scribbled down some notes. "Your Grace,  what kind of input did you put into such a project?"

"Hm, nothing really,  the brains of it all was Dougier, all I did was fill out the necessary documentation, and rubber stamp the application," Wriothesley said and glanced over Clorinde's shoulder to see what she was writing. 

She was indeed taking lengthy notes. Even more impressive, he caught certain words pertaining to their conversation. She was taking this pretty seriously. Maybe he'll quiz her later, just to mess with her. 

"Monsieur  Dougier,  what is the significance of the hats that everyone wears? " Clorinde asked. 

"Ah, there's nothing deep about it. I just felt like we needed some kind of visible identifier. If our members felt joy and pride from being a part of this group, then the hats would become a point of pride for them as well."

"That has come to represent something like a model citizen, which also helps them recruit new members," Wriothesley added. 

 Dougier chuckled. "Once again, you are exactly right, Your Grace. That's a part of our goal as well. The more the merrier, as they say," he gestured to a table. "Let's take a little 'ol seat over here — there's no need for us to stand," he turned to leave but spun back around. "Ah, Mademoiselle Cadieux, please excuse us,  we have a meeting to attend to, but feel free to look around in the meantime if you want to learn more about us."

Clorinde nodded and pushed her glasses up.  "Thank you,  I'll do just that. "

Wriothesley watched her walk towards the book table before turning his attention back to Dougier. 

"So, have you gotten the supplies report ready?" He asked the older man. 

"Indeed I have," he said and handed him a folder. "That's everything I've got,  if you could approve even a fraction of that list, we at the Society will be eternally grateful."

Wriothesley nodded and skimmed through the paperwork. "I'll give it a thorough read once I get back to my office,  though I do have a few questions for you regarding the last workshop you guys hosted."

"Of course, ask away."

"Of the attendees, how many joined?"

"Hm, well from my memory the last workshop was a few months ago,  we got five members to join our just cause."

"And how are they doing?"

"Good!  Everyone's fitting in quite well.  They're already a strong part of the family."

Wriothesley leaned back in his chair to study his face.  "Is that so? No one struggled to adjust?"

"No, not at all, as I'm sure you're aware, we do our best to provide maximum care and resources to our members. People that join really just want a quiet life, that's why we all get along so well. On that note, if I may,  I do have a few questions for you."

"Sure, I'll hear them."

Dougier cleared his throat and glanced over to where Clorinde was,  talking to the Society members. "This researcher, surely there are more interesting parts of the Fortress more worthy of her attention."

"Hm, you don't think the betterment of prisoners trying to turn over a new leaf is worth outside attention?" Wriothesley asked as he inspected the drink Dougier got for him. It looked and smelled okay, but he wasn't sure if he should risk it. 

Dougier tensed ever so slightly.  "No, no,  that's not what I'm saying, merely I never considered our humble cause would catch such attention." 

"Hm… speaking of attention,  are you still planning on hosting that recruitment event?" Wriothesley asked.

"Of course, Sir, I was actually planning on asking you about that. We wanted to post advertisements in more locations considering we haven't had many recruits lately."

"What locations do you have in mind?"

"Perhaps the pankration ring? I know a large majority of people go there, surely there's a place for a humble ad?"

"I don't see why not, I'll have to check first to see if there is space on the—"

"HAH!"

Wriothesley frowned and looked over to see Rigas, one of the members, screaming into the air for some reason.  The look on Clorinde's face also told him that she was not expecting such an outburst.

"Oh, no need to worry about him!" Dougier laughed.  "He's just got a lot of energy, but he means no harm,  I assure you."

"With one shout, you can release all the fatigue, resentment and unpleasantness from your lungs, and return to the day with all the optimism in the world! Why don't you also give it a try? I promise that it will work!" Rigas yelled. 

To Wriothesley, he sounded a little too enthusiastic… 

From this distance, he was only able to see Clorinde shake her head in response before slowly making her way to where he and Dougier sat.

Wriothesley turned back to him.  "Be sure to get me a draft of those new ads you want to post. And I'd like a log of the progress of your recent members. You are still keeping them, right?"

"Of course, Your Grace! I will attend to those matters right away."

 Wriothesley nodded. "Okay, then I don't have anything else to add," he turned to Clorinde as soon as she stopped at his side and instinctively reached out to grab her waist.  In that same second he caught himself and awkwardly stretched his arms instead.  "Erm– What did you think of the place,  Mademoiselle Cadieux?" 

She looked down at her notebook and quickly rifled through a few pages.  

"Now, note that your review will also affect my review of Dougier and the Society as a whole," Wriothesley added. 

 Dougier coughed into his arm. "Wait. I didn't know she would affect the evaluation process…"

Wriothesley turned back to him. "Oh? Is that a problem? I figured she could write a report about your accomplishments and potentially help find a sponsor to expand the reach and resources of the Society."

"Oh! No that's not a problem at all, and I'm pretty confident about our growth and activities, so I'd like to know what she has to say."

"Well,  I am very impressed with the accomplishments of all the members here. Many say they would have never gained the skills they have if not for the Society. Painting, writing and photography are exceptional skills and difficult to master.  It's all very impressive," Clorinde said.

"Ah, so it seems that you were able to get a sense of our vision and values. That's all I can ask for, really," Dougier said.  He shifted closer to Clorinde and peered at her notes. "Say, Mademoiselle, if I may,  what school did you graduate from? Before my time here, I had a niece that was interested in going into a higher education field, and I'm curious to know if you've met her."

Clorinde cleared her throat and glanced over at Wriothesley. "Uh, well I had private tutors for most of my educational experiences…"

"Oh,  fancy,  you must be from a renowned family then,  do you mind sharing your —"

Wriothesley stood up suddenly. "Oh, pardon me, I just remembered there is another document I wanted you to look at,  Dougier," he said and reached his hand into his pocket to pretend he was searching for it,  and let the crystal in his pocket fall onto the floor. 

It clanged loudly against the metal floor and bounced a few meters away. 

"Oh, oops…" he said.

Clorinde tensed and looked at him from over the edge of her notebook, and he very subtly shook his head. 

Everyone else in the vicinity momentarily froze. A few beats passed before Dougier looked around at the other members.  

"Go on, you guys, pick up the item for His Grace, would you?"

One of the members, Aucelet. Stumbled forward. "Y-Yes, right away.

Wriothesley noticed he hesitated right before he grabbed it and wrapped it in the cloth it rolled out of.  He then clumsily held it out.  

"Thank you, Aucelet," Wriothesley said, and turned to Dougier. The only thing he noticed that was potentially of note, was the tightening of his jaw. 

 "That  gem shines with quite the dazzling light. I hope it hasn't been damaged. Your Grace, please let me know if there's something wrong with it now."

 Wriothesley glanced at the gem.  "Hmm, it still looks good to me," he held it out to him to see if he'd recoil but surprisingly, he didn't react. "Have you ever seen a gem like this one?"

He did, however, take a small step back. "Never, Your Grace. Don't think I've ever been rich enough to afford this kind of thing."

"Hm, I guess that's fair. I for one,  haven't been either."

Dougier chuckled and coughed into his arm.  

"Well,  it seems I forgot that last document in my office,  I'll just bring it to you later.  I've got to show Mademoiselle Cadieux a few other places before the recreational facilities close up this evening."

"Very well,  thank you again for coming,  and Mademoiselle Cadieux, I look forward to the results of your report," Dougier said.

Clorinde nodded and turned to leave. "Have a good afternoon then."

Wriothesley followed her and pulled her aside once they were at a safe distance. 

Clorinde crossed her arms and looked up at him.  "Did you catch what Dougier said?"

"Hm? What did he say?"

"Under his breath,  when you said you haven't been rich enough to afford a gem… he muttered, lying pig."

Wriothesley's brows rose in surprise.  "Huh,  I missed that somehow. Pretty bold of him… hmm, well,  that confirms my suspicions about his dislike for me,  though I'm not quite sure where it stems from."

"You don't?"

"Well, no, ever since the beginning I've done my best to work with him and give his society project the resources needed to get it to this point…" 

"Well,  I hate that he said that.  I wish I could have punched his face in…" Clorinde mumbled. 

"Well,  depending on how things go,  you just might be able to…" he grabbed her notebook and scanned over her notes.  "Did you notice anything out of place?"

"I did,  everything looks too perfect. The bookshelf for example, looks brand new. Almost as if it has never been touched." 

"I also noticed people were moving strangely, especially that Rigas fellow… very odd…" Wriothesley added. 

"What do you want to do now?" Clorinde asked. 

"If you could head back there to see if anything has changed, that'd be great. I'm thinking they might reveal something if I'm not there, and I've got a feeling that Dougier isn't there anymore.  Talk to them again,  let them know you lost a pen or something, but don't stay too long." 

She nodded. "Okay, I'll be quick."

Wriothesley watched her walk off and leaned against the wall with a sigh. 

The way the members hesitated when he dropped the strange gem was very telling.  It was almost as if they knew what it was,  but at the same time,  Aucelet didn't even flinch once he had it in his hands.  Did it not affect him?  

If that was it,  then what determined the crystal actually affected someone?  He only touched it for a second and the images he saw and felt were brutal. 

Unless… it did affect him, and he simply didn't react? But no normal person would just hold a crystal that forced them to see their most painful memories. 

He also noticed how Aucelet wrapped the gem before handing it to him… 

Clorinde returned and he silently motioned for her to follow him back to his office. 

"They all seemed like entirely different people," she said as she sat on his couch.  "I asked if I could check out a book, but they told me, no… which was odd, because at first they were so enthusiastic to let me look at them… I should have grabbed one when I had the chance. Everyone else was acting weird too, no one wanted to talk to me, and even told me to leave them alone."

Wriothesley moved over to make some tea. "Huh. So they didn't even try to pretend in front of a stranger?"

"Maybe Dougier is threatening them somehow?" Clorinde asked. 

"I believe so.  See, when I dropped the crystal,  he didn't even budge, but any normal person would at least make an attempt to pick it up out of common courtesy, but he practically ordered his members to do it…" Wriothesley said. 

"I did catch his tone of voice shifted,  almost like he was trying to still sound nice, but threatening at the same time, " Clorinde added. 

Wriothesley started the gramophone and sat beside her and handed her a teacup. "I'm hoping that they will whisper amongst themselves about the fact that I have the crystal. The box was addressed to Dougier… and by me questioning him about it, I'm hoping someone picked up on the fact that I'm not colluding with him.  Especially since he denied knowledge of it. 

"On top of that,  if he was bold enough to curse me under his breath in front of me, then I'll guess that he probably says worse things out loud when I'm not around. If the cards are in my favor,  someone will come forward to talk to me… "

Clorinde set her glasses aside and brought the teacup up to her face.  "So what do we do in the meantime?"

Wriothesley sighed and leaned back against the couch. Good question… "Well…" he grabbed a deck of cards off the coffee table. "Wanna play a few games?"

She turned to face him.  "Alright, which game do you want to play?"

"Uh…" he absently shuffled the cards for a few moments.  "How about… go fish?"

She snickered.  "Really?"

"Why not? Classics never get old."

She rolled her eyes and held her hand out.  "Fine, gimme my cards."

He grinned and started them each out with seven cards. 

He won three games in a row, and in their fourth game,  about ten minutes in, he had four books and she only had one.  He could see her lips pursing together, but nothing else in her demeanor gave away the frustration he figured she was feeling. 

Clorinde could get competitive, even with something simple.  He loved it. 

"So~do you have any three's by any chance?" Wriothesley asked. 

She gasped and slammed two cards down.  "You have to be cheating!" She grumbled. 

He grinned and tried to take the cards, but she didn't move her hand.  "C'mon, babes, I'm just lucky,  now if you'd please," he said as he tried to take the cards. 

Her eyes narrowed. "I was going to ask you for the three card next! Did you see my hand?"

"Nooo, I didn't see anything, " he said,  unable to stop his grin.  He really hadn't seen her cards, but he may have played it up,  just a little so he could get on her nerves. 

"You don't sound like you're telling the truth."

"Mh, I am,  sweetheart, I just have good intuition," he smirked and snatched the cards away. "Thank you~"

She scoffed and held her cards closer to her face. "Hmph, okay,  whatever.  My turn,  do you have any queens?"

"Nope! "

She huffed and took another card. 

"Okay,  do you have an ace by any chance?"

"I do not."

"You have to say the thing."

"What?"

"The thing!"

"What thing? "

He frowned at her and reached over to grab another cookie from the table.  "Go fish,  sweetheart,  c'mon."

"It's your turn to fish!"

Wriothesley couldn't hold on his laugh.  Gods, this woman.  "Clo, how am I supposed to know if I need to hand a card if you don't—"

"Go fish you oaf!" She hissed between her teeth. 

He grinned and stuck the cookie in his mouth and grabbed a card. A queen…. He couldn't believe his luck! If only this luck translated to his life! 

He only had one of the card she asked him for next, but he could care less. He had a winner card in his hand, even if it didn't actually win him the game. He was looking for her reaction. 

"My turn!  So,  Miss Clorinde,  by any chance,  do you have a queen?" 

"Wriothesley!" She gasped,  "You— you—"

"Me?" He asked,  grinning. 

Her eyes narrowed and she held up three queen cards. 

"Gosh,  would you look at that? Such luck! If you would,  Clo," he said and held his hand out. 

She held the cards away from him.  "You're going to have to take them from me."

Wriothesley smirked. "Don't tempt me, Clo."

She waved the cards in the air. 

"Alllright then," he held her gaze for a few seconds before forsaking the cards between them and lunging at her. 

She gasped and tried to shove him back, he let her win,  just a bit,  because he was just having fun with her.  Her angry growls quickly turned to laughs that made him laugh, and he let his guard down and she kneed him in the gut.

"Oof— hey,  that's cheating," he laughed. 

"What! You're just upset I got a hit—"

He pinned her, easily. 

Clorinde gasped as her back hit the couch. Wriothesley pressed his knee against her stomach, just under her ribs to keep her down and simultaneously pinned her wrists above her head with one hand.

He smirked and leaned down in her face. "You were saying?"

"—in," she finished, breathless. 

Wriothesley plucked the cards from her hand with his free one and waved them in her face.  "I win."

He expected her to have some kind of retort, but she  just stared at him in silence, her eyes wide. 

A few beats passed of stillness, of them just catching their breaths, and then he found he couldn't stop looking at the way her full lips were parted ever so slightly. 

Heat crept up the back of his neck when he realized how compromising their position looked, and he carefully got off her. It wasn't his intention. He cleared his throat awkwardly and set the cards aside. The rest were scattered around, and he silently began to clean up. 

"I can't believe you…" Clorinde mumbled as she sat up. 

Wriothesley smiled sheepishly.  "Hah,  apologies, I hope I didn't hurt—"

"I can't believe you didn't kiss me…" she mumbled. 

He looked up at her quickly, completely thrown off. Did he hear her correctly? 

She was frowning to herself, and picking up the cards that fell closer to her. 

Wriothesley didn't let another second go by, and he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her into a much needed kiss.  He'd been wanting to kiss her all damn day, but he didn't want to push her too much so soon because everything was still so new for them.  

Clorinde matched his fervor and actually slipped so seamlessly onto his lap that he almost didn't notice.  But her warmth and weight pushing him into the couch was too good of a sensation to go completely unnoticed. 

He squeezed her body with his free arm and applied slight pressure to her neck.  She moaned into his mouth and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue under hers. 

Pleasure was quickly lighting up his blood. He wanted her, and it was getting difficult to ignore that desire because she had started to grind her hips into his growing hard on. 

He didn't stop her though, because it felt too good. When they finally broke off the kiss they were both practically panting in each other's faces.  

Her cheeks were a lovely red, and her lipstick appeared to be nonexistent.  "I seem to have gotten carried away," she whispered. 

He grinned. "If you want to keep going I'm more than willing."

Her blush darkened. "Well… what about the next report from the guards?"

He reached up and twirled some of her hair around his finger. "Darling, it probably won't be for another couple hours, we've got nothing to do till then." 

Clorinde bit her lip. "Well, what about the person from the beret society that we're hoping will show? We can't exactly be occupied when they come over…"

"Well… it's been almost two hours and we still don't have any visitors," he absently began to run his hand up and down her spine.  "And at this time most of the prisoners are in the production zone… I'm willing to bet we don't see anyone, if at all until another few hours…" 

She sighed and bit her lip.  "Okay then… uhm, do you want to go back to your room?"

"Only if you want to. I honestly don't care," he said as he brought a lock of her hair up to his face. He could tell there was a faint hint of some kind of sweetness. The hair products she used were always so pleasant. 

Perhaps he should take her advice and get some proper shampoos for himself.  The one he used was the same ones the prisoners had access to, and it did smell a bit like disinfectant… 

"Aren't you worried about someone barging in on us?" She asked.

"Mh, no?"

She huffed and got off him.  "Well,  I am,  so if you want to do anything then—"

He stood up and swept her up into his arms. She gasped loudly and looked up at him in shock. He smirked. 

"No worries,  sweetheart, whatever you want," he kissed her forehead and brought her safely into his room. 

Granted he really didn't think anyone would have the audacity to barge into his office unannounced. That right was allowed by one person, one woman in all of Teyvat. 

Wriothesley dropped Clorinde on his bed. "You're the only one who's ever had the gall to bust in my office, sweetheart."

She blushed and bit her lip.  "I only did it because… well… those instances were necessary,  you know that."

"I do."

She rolled her eyes and kicked her shoes off. "Then it doesn't count."

"Mhm, whatever you say,  love," Wriothesley murmured and stole a kiss from that lovely pout of hers. 

"Is there something specific that you want?" He asked between kisses. 

Clorinde pulled away and slowly began removing her clothes. "I think I'd like to keep my brasserie on," she mumbled as she moved to the center of his bed.

Wriothesley couldn't help but admire her slender figure.  In the lowlights of the room,  he could finally admire each curve and scar that made up her body. He was determined to memorize everything.

"Mh, that's your only request?" He asked as he undressed as well. 

She averted her eyes.  "What else would I ask for?"

"Just about anything really, 'cause I'd do just about anything for you, love," he admitted. 

"I don't know what else to ask for," she mumbled and finally met his gaze.  "I'm not exactly used to… this."

He could argue with her if he wanted.  Bring up how she was the one always asking him for new things to try.  But he honestly didn't care about any of that, and he knew what she was actually talking about. 

"If you think of anything, don't be afraid to let me know, " he said and sat on the bed. 

He could still remember how fearless she was when they were younger.  She didn't seem to shy away from anything back then.  Bold and beautiful, Clorinde, he followed her lead just about anywhere.

Back then she not only made him feel wanted, but needed and loved. He wanted that for her now. 

Now she seemed much more timid than he was used to, at least when they were alone,  but he didn't judge her for it.  There was a reason for everything, and even though he wasn't quite sure what took her courage away, she was still showing him this timidness, this vulnerability that he knew she hid from the rest of the world.  He vowed to protect her for it. 

Wriothesley reached forward to rub her thigh.  "How do you feel about straddling me?"

 Clorinde's eyes widened slightly and she looked away with a blush on her face. "I, uh… don't know if that is the best idea, " she mumbled. "I don't really know the best way to uh, well— you know…"

"You'll do fine, sweetheart, it's not too different from old times," he gave her side a playful poke. 

She rolled her eyes as she moved closer to him.  "Fine, but don't laugh at me," she mumbled.  "It'll probably be pretty graceless and awkward."

Suppressing his stupid grin was difficult. "I wouldn't do that, darling," he murmured.  He noticed she trembled as she swung her leg over him, and he grabbed her hips to help guide her to settle on him as he leaned back against the pillows.

He was familiar with this, having her face him this way. But the knowledge that the intention was for more this time made his heart race.  

"You mispronounced, beautiful, love," he murmured as he slid his hands up her thighs. 

It had been far too long since they had time for one another.  Every time they were interrupted in the past few weeks it left him both annoyed and frustrated.  Did it bother her as much as it did him?  

Even now, they were technically at risk of interruption, but he was confident his guards wouldn't be done with their investigation until this evening at the earliest. Nightfall made more sense. 

One might consider them even risking it foolish, but he didn't give a damn because she was willing. 

 He slid his hands down her thighs and back up, enjoying the smooth feeling of her skin against his palms. "Don't be afraid to let me know if you want something." He said softly. 

 She bit her lip and nodded. "Okay."

He grinned and reached over to the bedside table and grabbed her purple hat and placed it on her head. "Keep that on though."

She laughed softly and adjusted it to fit properly. "Whatever for?"

"I dunno,  I think you look sexy in it," he admitted. "Not that you don't look sexy without it…" 

Her cheeks brightened further and she looked down to hide it, though she looked back up after a moment,  and gave him a shy smile. Damn he liked the look on her face. She was a perfect mix of sexy and soft sweetness. 

He pressed his palm against her stomach and pushed her back firmly against his propped legs. He kept his eyes on hers as he slowly slid his thumb down to rub her. 

She bit her lip, and held back a moan. 

"Let me hear you, don't be embarrassed," he encouraged gently. "If you need to close your eyes, go ahead." 

She dug her nails into his shoulders, and shut her eyes tightly. He rubbed her until he could see her arousal dripping from her. He slipped two fingers inside her to see how she was fairing, and he groaned quietly when she squeezed around him, tight. 

He wanted to please her properly this time,  so he wanted to get her to come before going any further. He leaned up and kissed her while he massaged her walls. It wasn't long until the kiss grew messy and slick started pooling in his palm and she was rocking against his hand. 

She broke the kiss to press her face against his neck and she muffled a low moan into his skin. 

"W-Wrio I'm so close…" she moaned. 

He pushed his fingers just a bit deeper and curled them so he could press into that spot that would force her over the edge. 

That did it. 

She gasped and shut her eyes tight as her body convulsed in pleasure. 

Watching her come on his fingers was so fucking hot.  It only made him more aware of how hard he was right now.  It was painful. 

Even though he really wanted to bury himself inside her, he let her ride out the entirety of her climax and slowly pulled his hand away from her when she settled. 

"How you feelin', love?" He murmured as he absently rubbed her lower back. 

Clorinde sighed and leaned back against his legs.  "Mh, good…"

He grabbed her by the hips and gently nudged her back a bit more so he could rub her slick along his length. He was already leaking himself, and the simple contact made a shiver speed through him.

She moaned softly and bit her lip. She reached behind her and undid the lace of her brasserie and pulled it off in one go.  

Wriothesley couldn't help but stare as her breasts fell heavily on her chest. Her rosette nipples were pert and he had the sudden urge to rub his thumbs against them. To take them in his mouth… 

"Changed your mind?" he murmured, eyes still focused on her breasts. 

"Y-Yeah…" she whispered,  voice still soft from her release.

Gods she was beautiful.  He focused on a small beauty mark on the curve of her left breast and another an inch or two below it.  They stood out nicely against the creamy expanse of her skin, like the beginning of a constellation. 

"Wriothesley?"

"Hm?"

"You're staring…"

"Mhm."

She huffed and grabbed him by the hair. "Aren't you going to put it in?"

Heat rushed to his cheeks and he refocused on her face,  an adorable pout. 

He chuckled softly and bit his lip. "Ah, yeah…" he was in the middle of attempting when she decided to  flash him her beautiful breasts… 

He wanted to give her what she wanted. He wanted to make her feel good,  give her a proper night, but damn did he want to feel the weight of her breasts in his palm. 

"You're such a boy," she laughed and tugged his head down to her chest. 

He didn't have to be told twice, and eagerly sucked her nipple in his mouth. He cupped her other breast in his hand and massaged the soft flesh in his palm,  completely ignoring his own need for touch.

He'd be satisfied with this.

Feeling her warmth and her softness was near a religious experience. 

But then she reached between them and gave him a slow, tight stroke from base to tip. 

The way that he moaned was shameful. 

"May I?" She murmured.

He agreed without even knowing what she was asking for exactly. "Mh,  of course, of course…"

She started to rub his head against her clit. 

It was like being hit with an electro current. She cut his moan off with a sloppy kiss that he was all too eager to drown in. 

Clorinde broke the kiss to moan in his ear, and it made him see stars. It sounded so hot.  She was edging him so close that he was at risk of coming too early.  

"Mnh–if you keep that up I'm going to come," he said, breathless.  

"Ah… please do… I want you to…" she said as she pressed kisses against his neck.

He was going to question her but then she moaned in his ear again, this time for longer and at a much higher pitch. Her grip on him tightened and she moved her other hand to his shoulder and dug her nails into his skin. 

That sent him careening over the edge. 

He moaned and arched closer to her and she clung to him tightly until he settled. He expected her to move off him, but she stayed put.  

"I-I got carried away…" Clorinde mumbled against his neck and kissed him gently. 

"Did… did you also—"

"Yeah… haha,  I did…"

She started to grind her hips against him again, and he automatically tensed up from the sensitivity.  

"This okay?" She asked,  voice soft and airy. 

His instinct was to move her just because of the discomfort,  but he ignored it. The overstimulation was a special kind of pain that he was shamelessly addicted to.

It was a sensation he couldn't pull off alone, and it only really felt good with her,  with Clorinde. 

"Y-Yeah…" He groaned and shut his eyes tightly. The vulnerability was also something he craved, albeit unknowingly.  

Having her cling to him the way she was also added to the experience.  

She clung to him tightly, her breath uneven and warm in his ear.  "Wrio… I still want you… Ah… p-please…" 

That sent heat through his body like wildfire. Hearing her whimper and pleading in his ear, the sloppy kisses that she kept stealing, before he knew it he was fully erect again, and just short of losing his mind. 

She shifted over him and though all he wanted was to be inside her, he grabbed her hip and stopped her. 

"W-Wait… it'd probably be best to clean up first…" he said.  His spent was, after all, still covering him. 

Clorinde's already flushed face brightened.  "Oh… uhm… I don't mind if you uh…you don't." 

"Uh… well,  that's a bit risky isn't it? I know uh last time I—"

"Well… I just took the long way whenever I had to go to the Opera house and nothing happened so…" 

He knew what she meant without her needing to say it. 

So she could avoid the fountain of Lucine. 

It was known that Fontainian couples that wanted children would go to the fountain to pray. As a kid he grew up around stories and rumors that that was where babies came from.  

As an adult he heard that Fontainians have always struggled with starting families if they didn't visit the fountain.  It wasn't impossible to do so without,  but the most unfortunate ones could go years without success, especially if they couldn't afford the trip.  

It was also something he never needed to worry about because he never let that risk even be entertained with anyone else. 

Was simply visiting the fountain enough to do anything? 

This was a whole can of worms that he never considered before, and right now he didn't have the mental capacity to do so. 

"If  you're okay then I'm okay," he said. He trusted her with his life anyway,  why not also with the direction it could go?

If she wanted to take that risk with him ,  well,  he'll think about that later… 

She kissed him then,  full and slow.  It momentarily distracted him from everything else aside from the soft feel of her lips. 

It distracted him so much that he wasn't prepared for the way she suddenly leaned forward and pushed herself down on him,  taking him up to the base. She gasped and moaned so loud it was sinful.

A wave of pleasure rushed through him so suddenly that he momentarily forgot to breathe. It sent heated sparks up into his brain,  zapping out any trains of thought that were still lingering.

She slowly tightened her muscles until she was squeezing him quite hard. Just being fully sheathed inside her was already enough to throw him off kilter. It was like fate crafted them for one another… it felt too perfect.  

He'd probably lose it right now if he wasn't actively fighting it.  

She relaxed on him only to do it again. 

"Fuck…" he moaned this time and glanced up at her face and tightened his grip on her hips. She was so sexy. Ugh,  maybe he should take that hat off of her…  

"You okay,  love?" He asked, concerned. 

She was biting her lip, and had her eyes screwed shut, but after a few beats she relaxed a little and opened her eyes.  

"Y-Yeah… haha… you're just uh,  much bigger than I rem—"

He literally couldn't hide his ridiculous grin.

She blushed and looked away. "You're so juvenile," she mumbled. 

He chuckled and absently rubbed her thighs.

He's heard it before, but he's never believed it.  But hearing it from Clorinde? Damm did it do wonders for his ego.

At the same time, he didn't fully forget what mattered most to him,  her comfort. 

He's bedded women before that just weren't compatible with him in the slightest.  There were ways to make up for that difference, but a selfish part of him really hoped he didn't need to do that, but he would for her.  

"It's okay if you want to try something else," he murmured. "It's normal."

She grit her teeth and clenched on him again, and he momentarily saw white. Gods he wanted to take over. To fuck her until all she could say was his name, but he restrained himself. 

Because above all else,  he really wanted her to feel good… 

"Didn't I take you all the first time?" she mumbled.

"Well… the position changes things, and I wasn't so rough with you," he murmured.

"Right… right," she mumbled and slowly started to rock against him.  

He let her take over and slipped his hand down so he could rub circles against her clit. Their mixed fluids helped make each circle effortlessly smooth.

That definitely helped relax her as the discomfort on her face melted away seconds later. Her breath grew heavier, and her small gasps began to melt into quiet moans. 

He focused on keeping up the consistent circles he was rubbing against her,  and making sure to match her steady pace, and not on the heated sparks of pleasure that were slowly filling his body. 

She soon started trembling, and her moans were turning into whimpers and he decided he quite liked seeing her crumble like this.

He knew she was close again, he could feel it in the way her walls fluttered around him. He was so focused on getting her there, that he didn't notice her shifting her legs. 

She moved her hips to slide him out of her and rocked back to push him back in.   

He moaned as she did and tightened his grip on her hips.  She continued each motion,  slow and steady, and on the instroke he bottomed out inside her each time. It was stealing his composure away.  It felt so good, he was having a difficult time controlling his moans. 

"Mmn, Wriothesley, I like that look on your face…" she whispered and shifted against him again.  "Haa… so pretty."

He didn't know what to say to that. He figured he probably looked pretty wrecked right now… 

"Mn, you think I'm pretty?" He asked in surprise.  

"Very," she whispered and leaned down to grab his face. She stole a kiss that he was more than happy to give up.

He didn't expect her to be so affectionate.  He rather liked that her affection during their first time together wasn't a fluke. 

Because damn did he like it.  Kissing during sex was so new to him, but it was throwing off his concentration. 

She kissed him between her words, leaving him more breathless each time.  "I've always thought you were handsome," she whispered against his lips.

"Liar," he only half-heartedly accused.

She bristled in offense and sat up to look at him. "I'd never."

He moved his hand back to her hips so he could help get her off, and hopefully keep her occupied.  

She let out a lovely moan and bit her lip as she started to grind her hips against his. Her cheeks were quick to darken and her breath started to come in much heavier until she could barely move.

"Gods… You feel so good…" she panted softly.

He bit his lip to try and distract himself.  "Careful Clo, do you really want to stroke my ego too?" He teased lightly. 

Her eyes refocused on his face and she smiled softly. "I could…" 

"Ah, I'm only joking—"

"That night I touched you… I fell asleep on your other couch and dreamed of you fucking me until I cried."

His face got hot– well,  hotter.

"My panties were soaked in the morning…" she whispered as she leaned down to kiss him. "The night you took me to your room… I wanted to beg you to take me… I've never felt so good before… until now. "

He felt himself throb inside her and she squeezed him so hard he could feel the resistance of each pulse.

He moaned into her mouth and carefully grinded himself up into her.  "Ah-I've never felt this good either…"

Clorinde started to speed up the pace, but she quickly lost the ability to properly kiss him and was instead panting and moaning in his face.  

" Ah… mnh- Wrio… mnh-I can't… haa…"

He caught the hint and lifted her just enough for him to take over,  allowing her to lean against him and moan sweetly in his ear. 

He was close. The tell-tale signs of the impending end were turning his nerves into fuses, even so he wanted her to come first. 

"Mnh-Clo… come for me, sweetheart, I know you've got another in you…" he whispered in her ear. 

His only warning was the way she dug her nails in his shoulders and moaned that adorable nickname she gifted him with. 

" Mnh-Wrio!"

She came so hard her whole body shuddered, she squeezed his thighs with hers so much it was like a vice, and her nails carved crescents into his skin. Her mouth hung open in a silent moan, and drool dripped down the corner of her lips.

He followed her seconds after,  into that blinding white light of pleasure that he's only really experienced with her.  

She rocked against him through it all,  her breath labored and her body trembling. 

Once she started to settle he lifted her off him and laid her down on the bed, and she collapsed at his side,  boneless. Her hat fell to the side and she looked up at him with those beautiful twilight eyes of hers and he melted.

He just stared at her in silence while he caught his breath,  transfixed on the teardrops decorating her lashes like tiny pearls.

"How are you doing?" He asked her as he peeled away the sweaty hair from her face. 

She closed her eyes and took in a deep shake breath. "I'm still shaking haha…"

He grinned and held his hand up for her to see. "Me too…" 

She opened her eyes to look and brought his hand up to her lips so she could give it a kiss.  A simple gesture that made him blush. 

Unfortunately right after she let his hand go and sat up. She must have seen the look on his face because she placed her hand gently on his cheek. 

"We should clean up,  we still have things to do, remember?" She said softly.  

He didn't want to though. "Can't we stay just a bit longer?..."

She shook her head and stood up.  "Maybe if we didn't make such a mess…" 

Wriothesley sighed and grabbed his pillow to try and smother himself.  She had to bring that up, now he noticed and ignoring it was impossible because it was starting to cool… 

"Fine… but don't take too long," he sighed. 

She snatched the pillow off his face. "Aren't you going to come with?" She asked as if it were obvious.  

"What? Oh!  Are you sure?" He asked. He really wanted to jump at the opportunity, but he still wanted to make sure he heard her right. 

"Well,  we need to get ready, your guards will be reporting soon, right? If we go together it will be quicker," Clorinde said. 

  Right,  of course… 

"Alright," Wriothesley said and followed her to his bathroom. 

If he really cared about being ready for the report, he would have pointed out when she started to fill the tub that a bath would take longer than a shower, but he wasn't an idiot, and he didn't want to risk her changing her mind. 

What he didn't expect was how intimate it would feel sitting shoulder to shoulder with her while he– nearly– boiled alive with how hot she filled the tub.  The steam filling the room made him feel sleepy, and he could still faintly hear the gramophone through the walls. He could definitely fall asleep like this… 

"Wriothesley? Can I ask you something?" Clorinde asked once she finished scrubbing herself. 

"You can ask me anything,  sweetheart," he murmured. 

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. Five years? She'd mentioned that time frame before. The first time they slept together… 

  "Hm, do you want the logical answer, or the idealistic one?"

"I guess I'd like to know both."

"Well… if we assume this prophecy never comes true, or we miraculously survive it… in five years I'll most likely still be here, in the Fortress. There are a few improvements I'd like to make to the place, but all in all,  I don't think much will change…" he found her hand under the water and squeezed it gently.  "Most importantly I'd hope you'll still have the patience to deal with me."

She squeezed his hand back.  "Is that the idealistic one?"

"The logical one, darling."

"Oh… and what about the idealistic one?"

He sighed and absently rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. 

That was a harder ask. Mainly because he was hesitant to even think about it.  What he wanted, he honestly thought, was out of reach now. But once again he was bombarded with what ifs… 

Mainly, if they kept this up… would it still be just the two of them in five years? The thought was equal parts exciting and frightening. 

One he wasn't sure he wanted to delve into right at this moment, because the conversation felt too sensitive. 

There were things he wanted— once wanted, that he wasn't sure he deserved anymore.  He didn't believe it when she grumbled to herself about being a terrible mother,  but he knew he'd be a terrible father… 

The realization that he simply wasn't fit for that role was a hard pill to swallow, but it was the truth. 

He couldn't risk it anymore.  Clorinde deserved better than that, and so did any potential child sired by him or not… 

"Well… ideally… I'd like to retire early, live somewhere away from the city and the smell of metal and seawater…I'd like to have a dog, I'd teach it how to identify quality teas…" Wriothesley finally said. 

Clorinde laughed lightly and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Of course you'd do something like that.. What about a cat? Do you see yourself with one?"

"Hmm… yeah,  one of each sounds good."

"And me?"

"What do you mean?"

She shifted and stretched her leg out of the water.  Wriothesley opened his eyes to watch the steam rise off her leg. 

"Do you… still see us ?" She whispered. 

"Of course… unless you file a restraining order against me~" he joked in an attempt to override the heaviness in the air.

Clorinde frowned. "I'm being serious…"

He sighed and placed his hand on her leg and absently rubbed her. "Me too, sweetheart,  five years isn't all that long when you think about it…"

"It's half a decade."

"Mh, and I'll still be here, love… just the two of us."

"... just the two of us?" she echoed softly.  

"And whatever cat you might want," he added, his laugh a bit forced.  

Clorinde placed her hand over his on her leg and met his gaze. She didn't say anything, and that worried him.  Had she been looking for a different answer? He wanted to ask her if she was still unable to see where they would be in five years, but then she stood up, and broke the spell. 

Wriothesley politely averted his eyes as her whole rear was in his face. He might have teased her over it if the atmosphere didn't feel so oddly melancholic. 

He watched in silence as she stepped out of the tub and grabbed a spare towel out of the cabinet. 

"We should hurry along," she mumbled and sent a smile his way that didn't feel quite real. 

"Right…" Wriothesley said and matched her smile with a small one of his own. 

Chapter Text

Clorinde let herself sink onto the couch in Wriothesley's office and took her pocket mirror out to inspect her makeup one last time. Everything looked neat and tidy. 

One wouldn't be able to tell what she'd just been up to just twenty minutes ago. As much as the memory made her face warm, the thing that was occupying her mind the most at the moment was her conversation with Wriothesley after the fact in his bathroom.

Just the two of us… 

Why did that leave her with such an odd sense of longing? 

"Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Clorinde looked up to see Wriothesley leaning against his desk holding a teacup. Perhaps she should take a step back. 

If they kept this up, would it really just be the two of them in five years?  She sighed and slouched low against the couch. 

So irresponsible… 

She wasn't sure how to describe the emotion weighing on her heart. 

She knew it wasn't regret. But it stung in a similar fashion, she didn't think it was hurt, but it sure didn't feel good. 

She sighed and patted the spot next to her.  He sat beside her and pulled her legs on his lap.

"Clo?" He murmured and gently rubbed her ankle.

"I'm alright," she smiled slightly and scooted closer to him so his hand rested instead on her thigh.  "Just sleepy," she said and leaned back and closed her eyes.  

"You can nap if you want, love,  I'll wake you up if you want me to later."

"Hm, I'll just rest a bit…" she sighed and crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to get comfortable. 

In all honesty she probably wouldn't be able to sleep as exhausted as she was because of how fast her mind was whirling. But she could take the opportunity to think without worrying him… 

She must have looked pretty uncomfortable. because only a few moments passed before he carefully pulled her in his lap. The way he handled her made it seem like he really thought she was asleep. He set her against him so her head was comfortably tucked against his shoulder, and his strong arm was supporting her back, holding her close. His other hand he kept snug around her own crossed arms, and he kissed her hair before leaning his cheek against the top of her head.

Maybe he just wanted to hold her. 

She had denied herself the want for a more gentle kind of closeness after they'd been intimate. Responsibilities and other such things were more important after all, but this…. She didn't know how much she actually needed this, and the way he was holding her so tightly she wondered if he also needed this too.

Clorinde carefully uncrossed her arms and grabbed onto his sleeve.  She wanted to touch him in some way. Wriothesley had an answer for that, and slipped his hand over hers, enveloping it in his warmth. Enveloping her in his warmth.

He was cradling her in his arms like one might a babe… 

That thought alone plummeted her mood. 

This was so unbecoming of her, and she thanked the heavens that he couldn't see how upset she was inside. 

Leaving such a thing to chance was terribly irresponsible.  She wouldn't want to ruin his life like that… 

Gods, she wanted to jump out into the deepest depth of the sea,  farther than even The Fortress of Meropide could reach, and let the depths swallow her whole! 

Why could she see it so clearly all of a sudden?  The image of the Duke of Meropide holding a tiny infant in his protective arms, his spitting image,  bright, piercing blue eyes and all… 

She wanted to cry.

Her mother would be horrified with what she was doing and would question why she was risking bastard children…  On the other hand,  her co-workers would say it is too soon to bring up the topic of kids else she'd scare him away… 

It's not like they were too young for such a conversation, many her age had a few little ones hanging on their skirts at the market. Seeing herself in such a position though? Impossible. 

The worst part was that she knew Wriothesley had always wanted a family.  Ever since they were kids he'd talk about it,  before either of them really even learned how a family really came to be.  

They'd only really had one serious conversation about it after she'd agreed to marry him when she was of age. 

"Do you still want kids, mon chéri?"

"Mhm,  I would be happy with one,  Clo, you don't have to worry, I'm not picky."

"I'm not worried. But I think I'd want at least two. A boy and a girl. Because I always wished I had at least one sibling, but my father says all families should have at least one son."

"Two daughters would make me just as happy."

Clorinde hummed to herself and leaned up to kiss his cheek.  "Well,  I really do wish for at least one boy, so I can name him after you, do you like that idea?"

"I do… and for a girl,  I'd like her to share the same first letter as you." 

After going through a couple names, they'd settled on Collette. It was a name that meant people of victory, and they both thought it sounded quite elegant. Did he still like that name? 

The music on the gramophone was peaceful, but Clorinde also thought it was melancholic.  

Perhaps his ideal vision of his life in five years didn't include a child because it wasn't meant to be with her? Was that why she also couldn't see a future with him,  despite how desperately she wanted one?

If they eventually parted ways, she hoped he'd still allow her in his life. She might be a terrible mother,  but maybe… she would be a decent aunt… 

Maybe if she loosened her hold on him now, took a small step back whenever she could, eventually, when someone else caught his eye,  it wouldn't be so painful to finally let go… 

Oh she'd work overtime so she could spoil his kids… she could only pray that whoever their mother ended up being, she would be kind enough to let her around the little angels.

She'd be able to live with that… 

She must have actually drifted to sleep, because the next thing she knew, Wriothesley was gently shaking her awake.

"Sweetheart, wake up, we have a guest at the door. I'm about to call them in."

Clorinde opened her eyes and sat up quickly. "Oh… I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to actually fall asleep," she said as she fussed with her hair. 

"Don't worry, Clo, you look fine," he said and reached forward to wipe the corner of her lips. "I'll call them in now, okay?"

She blushed in embarrassment and stood up to straighten her skirt.  "Okay," she said and looked around for where her hat went.

Wriothesley picked it up off the coffee table and carefully set it on her head. 

"...Excuse me, Your Grace," said a hushed feminine voice through his door. "May I come in? I'm afraid that someone's been following me…"

"Please, come in."

Clorinde peered over the railing and saw his door open and a blonde lady slip into the office.  She closed the door behind her and ran up the steps.

She looked frightened, and clutched her hands together once she got to the top. She took a few calming breaths and looked around and gasped. 

"Oh! Are you Miss Clorinde?" The woman asked.

Clorinde nodded. "I am…" 

"Oh goodness… my lover, Faissolle told me all about you, the violet blade, he says you're called. He used to want to be a champion duelist when he was a boy— oh! Your Grace?  Please, he's in trouble,  you have to help him!"

Wriothesley turned to her and ushered her over to his desk. "Slow down, Avice, take a deep breath, and start from the top. What happened?"

 "I'm sorry, Your Grace... I think I should start from well… the crystal that you dropped."

"Hm? I didn't see you there for that," he said. 

"Yes, well,  you see everyone has been whispering about it because Faissolle was the one in charge of making sure the shipment it was in arrived at the Society safely,  but when the shipment went missing, he just told Dougier it was delayed while he tried to find out what happened to it."

"I'm guessing Dougier wasn't very happy that it ended up in my possession?" Wriothesley asked,  frowning. 

Avice shook her head.  "He is furious…and now that he's lost Dougier's trust, what awaits him is agonizing censure ."

 "Censure?"

 "It's Dougier's method of establishing control, as well as the thing we all fear the most…"

"What is that?" Clorinde asked in concern.

Avice glanced at Wriothesley and he nodded.  "Please go ahead and tell us,  you can trust her as you do me."

She bit her lip and shakily took off her hat and hair pin. "It would be better to just show you,  Your Grace…"

Clorinde heard the faintest click and swiftly drew her pistol and aimed it behind Avice. 

Dougier  took a step back and held his hands up.  "Whoa, whoa, hey,  don't be hasty now,  I was just looking for Miss Alice right here."

Clorinde frowned.  She hadn't heard him walk in!  Was it because she was still a bit groggy? 

"You're intruding," she said stiffly. She wanted to look over at Wriothesley to see what he wanted her to do, but she kept her eyes on Dougier just in case he was planning something. 

Dougier completely disregarded her and turned to Wriothesley.  "Your Grace, could you please call off this… woman. It was never our intention to disturb you like this. You see, Avice's mental state has been rather unstable ever since she arrived at the Fortress, and I was merely looking out for her."

"I don't recall hearing a knock, or giving permission for you to come in," Wriothesley said. 

Dougier chuckled.  "My apologies. I merely did not wish for Your Grace to be alarmed. Had I not been so focused on recovering her, I would have followed all the rules of etiquette to the letter. So, please forgive my discourtesy. See, Avice here rambles often, and has hallucinations. It may be best to dismiss her babbling as random gibberish."

 "Do you want me to escort this man out, Your Grace?" Clorinde asked. 

"There's no need,  I'm sure Dougier understands we were just having a conversation," Wriothesley said. 

Clorinde put her gun away, though kept her eyes on Dougier just in case.  

"Alright then, Avice. Let's leave His Grace and his guest alone."

"Avice,  please, pay him no mind, you are safe here,  I assure you," Wriothesley said. 

Clorinde felt bad for the poor girl.  She was clearly frightened when she initially arrived, only for her pursuer to burst in after her.  She wanted to question why Wriothesley didn't just throw Dougier out. She would have herself if it were solely up to her. 

The only explanation she could come up with was that perhaps he was trying not to give away how much he actually suspected Dougier of wrong doings. However, at this stage in everything,  she didn't think it was worth trying to keep up appearances.

Even though she disagreed with his methods, she stayed back and waited for his word. Wriothesley was the highest authority in The Fortress of Meropide after all,  and Clorinde respected that. All she could do now was watch and wait. 

"Please, there's no need to be upset. It's only natural to want to side with the poor, sick girl, but I know His Grace to be a reasonable man, there's no need to trouble yourself," Dougier said and stepped closer to Avice.

 "I want to hear what she has to say,  lunatic or not, as you said, I'll decide."

 "That would be perfectly fine with me. Oh, and just so you know, we've also found the missing Mr. Faissolle. I have no idea why he was so upset, we just had a few questions for him," Dougier said and placed his hand on Avice's shoulder.  "Thankfully, he has already returned to his senses. We've brought him back to our place, so there's no need to worry."

 Avice tensed and stepped back towards the steps. "I'm sorry, Your Grace... I don't have anything more to say."

Wriothesley frowned and dug the black crystal out of his desk drawer and set it on the desk. "This is what you're afraid of, correct? You can tell me everything. I'll do all I can to help."

 Her eyes widened and she glanced at Dougier, who had his own look of surprise, then back at the gem.  "I-I've never seen that thing in my life."

Wriothesley glared at Dougier.  "Let her go, now."

Dougier scoffed and stepped back. "Your Grace, I don't think there's anything else she would like to say. Pressuring her will not get you anywhere."

Wriothesley turned back to Avice. "It's alright, Avice. As long as you tell me what it is that you're terrified of. No matter what it is, it will no longer be able to hurt you. I swear this on my name and honor as the Duke."

Avice glanced at him then over to Clorinde. She held her gaze for a beat before slowly looking over to the desk where she left her bow.

Is she trying to tell me something?  Clorinde glanced at the bow then back to Avice. Very subtly, she nodded once before looking away. 

"I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I really don't have anything more to say. Please... don't press me further," Avice whispered. 

Dougier stepped forward again. "In that case, Avice and I will be off. Once again, please accept my apologies for disturbing your peaceful evening, Your Grace."

Wriothesley stepped between them.  "Miss Avice, please show me your head. That is an order."

She tensed again and lowered her head.

He examined her for a few beats but stepped away with a deep frown. "There's nothing there…"

Dougier stepped around him. "Your Grace, I know you have long tired of my words, but please believe me when I say you've merely let your worries get to your head.

"The Society has never caused trouble for you or any of the guards at the Fortress. We've spent all of our time working hard and trying to lead better lives.

 "Why are you doing everything in your power to prove our "guilt"? What's wrong with the current state of affairs? I'll do anything for you as long as you give me the word. Why are you so intent on getting rid of someone who's been unfalteringly loyal?"

Clorinde nearly scoffed in disbelief, but managed to hold it in. Dougier was far from loyal. She heard his snide comments herself, but she couldn't reveal that now,  lest he find out that she and the researcher were the same person… 

 "Your words bore me. You know the consequences if I find you to be lying," Wriothesley said,  eyes narrowed. 

 Dougier shook his head and sighed heavily.  "Everything that I do, I do for the Fortress of Meropide. But Your Grace is welcome to visit us anytime to confirm the true intent of our activities," he put his hand on Avice's shoulder and led her out of the office.

Clorinde could still feel tension in the air even after the door closed behind the two.  A large part of that, she felt was her own fault. Her interference surely turned things for the worse. 

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," she said once the silence became too much. 

Wriothesley's demeanor softened and he uncrossed his arms. "Whatever for?"

"I drew my gun on him… I'm sure that destroyed any possibility of a proper conversation…" she sighed. 

He shook his head. "No, you're not at fault for anything. He knows the rules, the second he snuck in here he already decided to be hostile… the only thing I can't figure out is what is going on with the hats? I thought they hid something on their heads, why else would Avice take it off like that?"

"If I may,  Your Grace, why did you let him stay? Why not just throw him out? Avice was ready to tell us everything until he showed up," Clorinde asked. She was a bit frustrated, and did her best to let the feeling pass. 

"A few reasons, the first being, he's shown me his true colors now. No matter how pleasant he attempted to talk, he knows that I don't allow anyone to talk to me like that, and no prisoner is allowed to just walk in my office. Secondly,  the whole Society is essentially his hostages. His subordinates would definitely react if he were taken into custody, or if anything happened to him. That's why he dared to bare his fangs right in front of me."

Clorinde shook her head and sighed.  Why hadn't she thought about that? It was such an obvious explanation.  "I'm sorry for questioning you…"

Wriothesley frowned. "Clorinde, please, you're one of the only people I want to question me, I trust your sense of judgment more than you apparently realize."

"I've got a lot to learn…"

"Mh, we all do, love,  so why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"

Clorinde sighed and crossed her arms.  "I just felt bad for Avice… I could have easily– and harmlessly– escorted Dougier out to at least wait outside with the reason being you were simply conducting a solo interview as a part of the evaluation process…"

"Well, that could have worked, but you did have him at gunpoint…" Wriothesley reminded her. 

She frowned. "Oh… well… I'm sorry… I was just–" not thinking?  Acting on instinct?  

If she had been escorting Lady Furina or Monsieur Neuvillette she would have done the same if someone snuck up on them. They were the most important people of Fontaine, such methods were more than appropriate… But Wriothesley? He was the most important person to her. 

"I just wanted to protect you…" She admitted quietly, her gaze glued to her shoes.  Why did I act so rashly? If Wriothesley hadn't acted so calmly things could have escalated… 

"Again, no need to apologize, I know you were just—" he stopped himself suddenly and gently grabbed her hand. "Thank you, Clorinde, really."

She blushed and turned away in a sad attempt to hide it.  "Ahem,  to get back on topic… you mentioned the reason why Avice took her hat off? I believe the focus shouldn't be on the hat necessarily, but the hairbow she left behind." 

"Hm," Wriothesley turned back to his desk and picked up the bow.  He examined it for a few minutes and soon removed a small needle-like object. 

"A needle?" Clorinde questioned. 

"It's hollow… strange," Wriothesley mumbled to himself.  He sat at his desk and absently tapped the needle against his desk, his brows furrowed in thought.

"What do you think it's for?" Clorinde asked as she sat across from him. 

"Well… stabbing."

She frowned and looked up at his face expecting him to smirk or indicate in some other fashion he was joking, but he remained serious. 

"Well… obviously?" Clorinde said. "My first thought was that it could be a hat pin… ladies often wear those as a means of defense, but that one is much smaller than they typically are," she added in the hopes of getting him to share some of his own thought process. 

"Hm."

She huffed and leaned back in her chair. "Or a shiv?"

"It's hollow…" he said again,  except this time much quieter. 

"Like a syringe?" She offered. 

His eyes widened and he sat up straighter and reached for the crystal set aside on his desk. 

Clorinde tensed when she saw him grab it, even though he seemed to be handling it carefully,  she was still worried.  

"Careful…" she murmured.  

He grabbed the strange needle and started tapping the end of it against the crystal. Clorinde didn't really get what the heck he was doing, but she watched him in silence while she tried to make sense of it. 

Eventually he managed to crack the crystal in such a way that a strange black liquid began to ooze out of it. The needle absorbed some of the liquid, turning a solid black. 

"How did you even think to do that?" Clorinde asked,  bewildered. 

"Well, when you were changing earlier, trying on the researcher's outfit, I was taking a closer look at the crystal… holding it up to the light revealed that it was filled with some kind of liquid. At the time, I didn't think much of it, a crystal containing water in Fontaine is hardly newsworthy, but then when you mentioned that the needle could be a makeshift syringe I got the idea,  topped of with the fact that Avice left the bow behind on purpose… well I can't think of any other purpose."

Clorinde could barely believe her next thought, but as soon as she said it, Wriothesley agreed. "Do you think Dougier is using this liquid to threaten the Society members?"

"I do."

"Please be careful with that thing,  Wriothesley, if just touching the shell of the crystal can cause such pain, I can only imagine what the liquid itself will do," Clorinde said. 

He covered the crystal with the cloth and set it aside. "I can only imagine how much worse it is…" he sighed and leaned back in his chair with a deep frown.  "Agony, desolation, and an overwhelming sense of despair... No wonder they're all so terrified of it."

"What do you want to do?" 

"We have to detain him. I won't let him get away with this," he said and stood up.  "We should go."

"Right."

Clorinde followed him out of the office, and straight to the gathering place for the Society. The Fortress guards were already there, and had everyone present in cuffs. 

A guard moved over to him as soon as they came over.

"Your Grace, I was just on my way to report back. We decided to take the initiative and take everyone into custody.  One of our guys stationed nearby to watch over them noticed they all got up at the same time and made a run for it. So we decided to quickly forestall whatever plan they might have been attempting to enact."

 Wriothesley nodded. "Great work. Bring everyone to me, and  perform a thorough search of the Society's headquarters.

"Understood, Your Grace."

Clorinde stood just behind him while the guards brought everyone over.

"Could you help me check them?" Wriothesley said to her and moved over and took off the hat of the nearest prisoner. 

 She followed his lead, and searched the member's heads to see if they also had some kind of clip hidden in their hair that stored the needle. 

What she found was far more disturbing. 

There, hidden by some hair on the woman's head, was a wound where a black thorn-like object could be seen just barely sticking out. 

It's stabbed directly into their skulls?

Just imagining how horrible it must feel getting that cursed liquid shot into their brains made her feel sick. 

"Wrio…" she whispered, still in shock.  

He walked over immediately. "Did you find any—" he paused when he saw the wound and his face fell into a deep frown. "Archons…" 

He checked everyone else, and his frown seemed to deepen more with each person he examined. 

"They all have one," he said and tightened his hand into a fist. "They must have had to endure unimaginable torture," he turned to his guard. "Ielmini, have you found Dougier?"

She shook her head. "No, but we did discover that the materials in this area have no wear or tear on them for as old as they are. It's almost as if everything was just installed today. On top of all that, when we questioned the members' cellmates, they said they haven't seen them for ages."

"Oh… is that right?" Wriothesley said. 

"They're hiding somewhere?" Clorinde asked quietly. 

"Indeed… unfortunately there are many abandoned places in the Fortress that could hide a rat…And if the overseer of my Fortress Guard has never alerted me to anything then he must be in Dougier's pocket," Wriothesley frowned and ran his hand through his hair.  "I can't believe this," he grumbled under his breath. 

Clorinde could feel his frustration.  She knew he was probably blaming himself for this whole situation. He probably thought he should have caught on to this whole mess much sooner. And now for his own employees to be betraying him? 

"It's not your fault," she whispered while she fought the urge to grab his hand in front of everyone. 

"Follow me," he said to the guards and walked off towards one of the many lifts in the Fortress. 

Clorinde wasn't sure if she should still be involving herself at this point. Wouldn't his guards get suspicious if she followed him? Wouldn't they wonder why she was meddling in the Fortress' affairs? 

"Make sure the others follow us down when the lift returns back to this floor, we're going to the basement level," Wriothesley said to the guard, Ielmini. 

She gave a salute. "Yes, Sir."

Wriothesley stopped at the door for the lift and turned to Clorinde. A beat passed until she realized he was waiting for her,  so she hurried into the lift. He stepped in after her and stuck a key into the floor selection and turned it, starting the lift. 

"I can't believe this is going to hell so fast," he muttered.  "All under my nose… I can't even trust my own guard, if millions of mora isn't enough to buy loyalty, then what is?" He asked with a sigh. 

Clorinde stayed silent. She figured it was rhetorical, but his next comment made her look up at his face. He didn't look happy at all, and for a moment, she was concerned he'd crack his teeth with how hard his jaw was set. 

"I can't trust anyone…" He said, expression grim.

Clorinde finally grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She wanted to remind him that he could trust her, but she wasn't entirely sure if it was appropriate or even relevant… 

He squeezed her hand back and grabbed her other hand and held it just as tightly. 

Clorinde gave him her best smile even though she wasn't very confident in it. She wanted to tell him so much, but she wasn't sure what words to use, and she also didn't want to distract him too much.  They had a job to do. 

Wriothesley smiled back, it was a subtle upturn at the corner of his lips. Much smaller than his usual boyish grin, but she wasn't complaining. He pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

Clorinde quickly returned his hug and squeezed him as tightly as she could.  

"Thank you, Clorinde…" he sighed and rested his head on top of hers. 

She gave him a shy kiss on his collarbone and tightened her hold on him. "It'll be over soon," she whispered. 

The lift finally reached the bottom floor and Wriothesley stepped away with a sigh.  

"It's just as I expected," he said as he looked around,  his voice softer than before.  "The guard overseer is not at his post…" 

"Do you think he's still around?" Clorinde asked as she sent the lift back up for the other guards. 

"Possibly,  or,  he might have run like a coward, only one way to find out…" 

They waited a few minutes for everyone to join them, and once everyone was present,  Wriothesley led them through the abandoned production zone. 

Clorinde was amazed. 

She had no idea the Fortress was as large as it was.  She knew it was huge, there was a reason why Fontainians called it the city of unfortunate souls, she's even seen Wriothesley's personal maps of the place!  It never occurred to her that those maps were only partial. 

She also hadn't expected Dougier to be as prepared as he was, but Wriothesley didn't even seem phased by the traps that were set around. 

After apprehending some prisoners that were attempting to hide a guards body, that Clorinde prayed was merely unconscious, Wriothesley got them to confess the whereabouts of Dougiers hideout.

What they found there was arguably the most disturbing thing yet.

A journal, detailing the many tortures the writer had to endure. 

A rulebook that outlined the horrible treatments. The group punishment that everyone was forced to endure for the mistakes of another.

The apology note for the crime of wanting an extra slice of bread. The vow written in blood not to pass out during punishment, else the whole process restart…

Then there was the hysterical woman that was found crouching on the floor in a locked cell, crying and muttering to herself for salvation, calling out for the help of gods from far away lands, or any that would listen. 

Clorinde went to this woman without thinking and gently placed her hand on her back, intending to console her.  The woman freaked and retreated into a corner.  

"No! I'm sorry! Please don't… no more, no more! I'm sorry,  I won't do it again!"

Clorinde stepped back. "Miss, we're here to help you, we won't let him hurt you anymore." 

"No! Please don't, I'm sorry…"

"Clo… leave her. My guards will handle her. She's too far gone right now to understand that we are here to help," Wriothesley said from the cell door.

Frowning, Clorinde turned to face him. He was frowning himself, just behind him the guards were escorting a few other prisoners away. 

She wished she could help more in some way, but he was right, there was nothing she could do.  

"Do you want me to help them?" She asked as she picked up a discarded note near the cell's entrance. 

What stood out to her the most from the hasty writing was the phrase, I'm so hungry,  written over and over again.  

"I'd rather you stayed with me. I believe we're getting close to where this snake is hiding, there aren't many other places to hide in this area," Wriothesley said. 

Clorinde nodded and handed him the note. He looked it over quickly and grimaced. 

He handed it to a guard to be stored as evidence, and led her down another tunnel. 

The closer they got, the louder the sound of muffled voices could be heard. 

"Ready?" Wriothesley asked. "We're going to try to sneak in, it sounds like he might be occupied right now. If I can catch him in the act of this censure , it will seal the deal on his fate."

"I'm right behind you," Clorinde assured.

Chapter Text

The fact that so much pain and suffering was happening in the Fortress of Meropide for who knows how long at this point, really made Wriothesley angry. 

The victims were all prisoners, yes, but they were people. And just like the coward Dougier is,  he only recruited those that were guilty of nonviolent crimes.  

They were prisoners, but some had the opportunity for redemption. 

Seeing that woman blindly apologize and beg to be left alone for a crime that she did not commit bothered him immensely. 

Who does this guy think he is?! To play with people's lives like that.  

He was honestly very furious, and he was shocked that he's been able to keep his cool all this time. 

Maybe he had Clorinde to thank for that. 

Just her being here helped more than he knew how to explain, and whenever he thought he would lose his cool, she'd look him in the eyes and some of the anger boiling his blood would fade away.  

"I'm right behind you," Clorinde assured him softly. 

Wriothesley glanced back at her and held her gaze for a beat. 

He was so grateful for her. 

After this mess was over, he wanted to take her out again, do something fun. She deserved it, and he wanted to see that pretty smile of hers painted in sunlight.. 

Unable to help himself,  Wriothesley grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

"There's a possibility Dougier will have more stolen gardemeks behind this door, be careful, and stay close unless I signal you to back up, got it?"

"Mh, gardemeks are no match for me, Your Grace." 

"Ha, I'm aware, but still, there will be a lot of people inside, things could get tricky."

"Understood, I'm with you," she said and drew her sword. 

Was it bad that he could get distracted by her beauty so easily?

The purse of her lips, the way her brows furrowed in concentration. Oh, she'd surely scold him if she knew his mind was wandering… 

Would now be a bad time to tell her –again– that he loved her?

"Your Grace?" Clorinde whispered. 

He managed to hold his tongue, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. The confusion on her pretty face was adorable.

"Stay close," he said and picked the lock of the room in front of him. 

Wriothesley led her into a crowded room where Dougier stood on a makeshift stage with another man trapped in some kind of contraption. At the man's side was Avice. 

He grabbed Clorinde's hand and dragged her to move behind the crowd, using a few pillars as cover.

"I must confess to being furious.," Douguer said in disbelief. "To think that there are still some of you who find it permissible to spit upon our rules: Remember their names: Faissolle and Avice. They've betrayed you — betrayed us!"

The crowd of Society members began to whisper amongst themselves. 

 "Once again, you will see with your own eyes what will happen to those who betray our cause!" Dougier said as he turned to Avice. "Go on, Avice. Pierce his skull with the thorn in your hands, and then push in the Aqua Doloris. Remember, do it one drop at a time. Let it do its magic again and again, and don't stop until you've pushed all of it in!

"Its like a fucking cult," Wriothesley muttered.

 "Faissolle... I'm sorry…" Avice said. 

  "It... It's okay, I'll... find a way to endure…" he said. 

 Dougier laughed.  "Oh, shut your wretched mouths. When did I give you permission to speak!? My rules are the paramount law of this place. Only more pain will come to those who dare to disobey!"

"I can't take this anymore," Wriothesley growled. "Go help the guard get these people out of here," he said to Clorinde.

She nodded and ran to let the guards in the room. 

"That's enough, Dougier. Your rabid screams have been beyond nauseating," Wriothesley said as he stepped out from behind the pillar. 

 "Ah, Wriothesley... I knew you would come, but I didn't expect you to be so quick. Must you refuse to let me be? Did I not spell everything out for you already? What's so blasphemous about sharing a slice of the cake with me when you've already got the entire fortress at your feet?"

Wriothesley scoffed. "It would seem that you can't see the difference between"sharing " and"looting," and on top of that. Look at these people. Are they not starving as you wolf down your cake ?" 

Dougier pointed at him angrily. "Stop acting all high and mighty like some hero of justice! Have you forgotten? Nobody in this blasted Fortress is innocent! We are all irredeemable monsters who have destroyed something that others hold dear. What's so wrong about punishing those who deserve to be punished? It's what they've always deserved!

 "And please, are you really going to tell me that you care about their lives and well-being when you just need a supply of labor to keep this place running? Isn't that all you need to keep your cushy life?"

 "Sadly, you're wrong on both counts. Unlike you, I've never seen them as currency," Wriothesley said as he started to cross the room. "The Fortress is not only a place for confinement, but also a place for rebirth. They may have made mistakes, but they are still human beings with people and things that they cherish...

 "And most importantly, they should always retain the freedom to choose their own path once they've reflected on their past misdeeds! But you! You're destroying their spirits with fear! Taking their freedom away, so that they will become slaves who'll never again feel or think!

 "You prey on the weak and lost! Why else do I see no one here that could defend themselves? You're a coward, Dougier!"

 "You think me arrogant, Wriothesley? Well, I think you're too young and naive. You understand nothing of the world. Nobody actually sees this Fortress as any kind of just or wonderful place. See it for what it is — a dumping ground of pain and misery for the rejected trash of society.  No prisoner will listen to you out of the gratitude of their hearts. The whip is the only way to make them obey!"

Wriothesley heard a gun go off behind him, and in that same instant, a rush of electrical energy filled the room and the sound of a bullet bouncing off metal rang in his ears. 

He could almost taste the sharp static in the air. It made the hairs on his arms stand on end. 

"Eyes forward, Wrio, I've got your back," he heard Clorinde whisper just behind him.  

Dougier cursed and snapped his fingers and more Gardemeks moved into the room.  All illegally taken from the production zone. 

"Lucky you brought that wench with you,  else you'd have a bullet in the back of your skull now," Dougier spat. "Let's see what that vision of yours that you like to show off so much holds up against these powerful constructs!"

  Wriothesley smirked and unhooked the small metal device from his belt that stored his condensed gauntlets and activated it so they opened up and took over his forearms. 

 "You talk big, but in the end, you know nothing outside of power and control. In that case... let me give you a small taste of what real power looks like," he said and moved to take down the rogue Gardemeks. 

Even though they were modified, their weak points were still generally in the same areas, so each one fell rather quickly. Hitting them as hard as he could right over their main energy source was also a deciding factor to how quickly each one went down. 

Each gardemek that he took down only made him angrier, because it was just a reminder to how much he let slip under the woodwork.

He took out all of his anger on the last gardemek in front of him, infusing the blow with a burst of cryo. He hit it so hard that the thing exploded, sending bits and bolts in every direction, and sending a wave of frost through the air. 

Wriothesley turned to Dougier and slowly began to walk towards him. 

Many of the prisoners that this man tortured were beyond saving, broken past repair. They'll never be able to return to who they were before, a fate perhaps worse than death… 

Many probably were dead,  having not had the strength to face another second of such treatment…

He was still mad… 

 "If you think fear can control everything, why don't you terrify me?" Wriothesley asked and activated his gauntlets once more. 

Dougier scowled and took a step back. "Don't high-road me! You're just another crook!" he yelled and pulled out a gun.  

He shot.

Missed. 

Again,  again. 

Missed. 

Each shot Wriothesley only had to move just a bit and the bullet whizzed past him. Each shot was worse than the last, and the fear on Dougier's face became more and more evident. 

The next few bullets Wriothesley blocked with a small wall of ice. 

What happened next played in front of him as if in slow motion. Dougier's hands tilted off to his left just a bit. The gun went off, and Wriothesley whipped his head around just as Clorinde stumbled back, her hand covering her face. Her pristine white gloves strained a bright crimson… 

He saw red. 

The next thing he knew he had Dougier lifted in the air,  via his hand tight around his neck. 

He shot her! 

He tightened his grip. 

In the face! 

Tighter.

In the fucking face!

Tighter… 

"You won't have the luxury of time to regret what you've just done," Wriothesley growled.

I'll kill him… 

"I—I'm warning… you… erg, unauthorized punishment and torture are prohibited here!" Dougier choked out. "As the Duke you should set an example…"

Wriothesley slammed him down on the cold metal platform and tightened his grip just a bit more. Dougier pointlessly clawed at his hand in an attempt to free himself, but Wriothesley didn't feel it.

He's got to die.

"Y—....ace?"

Dougier's eyes slowly began to lose focus.

"Your Grace?"

It's what he deserves!

"Wriothesley!"

He snapped out of it and he loosened his grip just enough to allow air into the bastard's lungs. 

Wriothesley looked over his shoulder and saw Clorinde had run over to him. She still had her hand pressed to her face, and the blood had completely stained her glove, but she was standing.  She's okay… 

Thank the gods she's okay!  

The pain in his hand finally registered and he looked down to see his own hand was covered in blood.

Wriothesley scoffed and gave Dougier a shake. "From this point on,  you can forget about the rules. The rules of the Fortress are there to keep the likes of you in check," he said through his teeth. "But if the Duke wants somebody dead… He needs no justification. Understood?" He shook him once more,  before finally letting go of the wretch's neck.

He shoved him onto his stomach and cuffed his hands behind his back and stepped away. 

His ears were ringing. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. 

"Clean up this mess, and lock him up in solitude," Wriothesley said to Ielmini whom he saw walk in with a few others. 

His guards quickly filtered through the room. There was more he wanted to say, but he couldn't think right now. 

He grabbed Clorinde's free hand and swiftly dragged her away. 

"Your Grace, I— I'm okay," she said,  but her speech was weak, and her words were slurring slightly.  Seemingly from the wound swelling.

He only walked faster. 

"I'm taking you to the infirmary," he said. "You're flushed! I'm not taking any risks."

"No, no, it's okay, it's not that bad, I can see to it myself," Clorinde insisted.

"No you won't."

"I will."

He growled under his breath in annoyance and changed course to his room instead. He'll look at her injury himself then, since she wanted to start a fuss.

He was hoping the walk all the way back to his office would calm him down, but when he made it back to his room,  he was still pissed. 

In fact,  he was fuming!

He was actually shocked that he hadn't snapped Dougier's neck after he had the gall to actually shoot Clorinde.  

Just thinking about it made his blood boil. He wanted to go back to his cell and break his fingers. One by one.

"Wriothesley, I'm fine, really," Clorinde said, her calming voice just enough to cool his blood to a simmer. 

"He shot you in the face," he growled and nudged her so she could sit on his bed. He gently tilted her head so he could see her wound better. 

His anger was rising again.  

Blood was caked on her cheek, some had dripped onto her blouse,  staining it a bright crimson. 

He felt sick. 

"Stop talking, you might damage something," he said and rushed into his bathroom to get medical supplies. 

He returned to where she was, and sat beside her.

"Let me see," he murmured and gently tilted her face towards him. 

As soon as he wiped the dried blood away from her cheek bright crimson blood started to ooze out of it. But he could see the cut now. 

It was only a graze. 

Some of the tension in his chest dissipated. It's only a graze… 

Although grazes from bullets could be deadly depending on how close the bullet was to one's skin, this one was on the milder side. 

  He has seen worse, and thank the gods that this was far from that, but he could see her cheek swelling, and he knew it could scar if it wasn't treated properly. 

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the infirmary?" He asked for the third time as he dabbed at her wound. "If Sigewinne uses her magic then it should stop the swelling—"

"Her and doctor Arderne are swamped taking care of the injured and starved prisoners Dougier had locked up. I'll be fine."

"Clo, you could have died. If his aim was better. He would have blown your face off!" He didn't mean to yell,  he wasn't mad at her. He was furious with himself for putting her in danger … again!

"I've blocked bullets before,  I've dodged bullets before,  there's no need to—"

"But you didn't,  Clorinde. You didn't block it,  you didn't dodge it, you could have died, and it would have been all my fault," he scowled and stood up to grab fresh bandages and medicine for it. 

He got some very effective medicinal ointment from a melusine as a gift that worked so well he decided to only use it for emergencies. 

This wasn't exactly the emergency he had in mind at the time, but he didn't want to use anything else. 

"I was just distracted, besides, it wouldn't have been your fault even if I had taken a bullet to the face," Clorinde said as if it weren't a big deal. She laughed lightly. "Though if I survived, I guess I would be a bit devastated since you wouldn't want me if that happened."

Absurd! Wriothesley grit his teeth and sat back at her side.  "Are you serious?" 

He couldn't believe what he was hearing! 

She frowned. "...Well… of course… it's only logical to lose attraction after such a dramatic injury. I'm not delusional, Wriothesley,  it's just how people work, I've seen it happen many times in my line of work, even with less dramatic injuries."

He was momentarily speechless. 

Did she really believe that? 

"Clo…" he could barely get his mind to settle on a specific thought.  

He couldn't believe she thought that! Was it really so strange that he hadn't even thought such a thing until she said it? Did being away from Fontainian society for nearly twenty years change him that much?

Had he done anything to make her think that? 

The anger that he'd been feeling quickly morphed into a sour mix of hurt, offense, guilt, and frustration. 

Did she think his love for her was that shallow? 

"Sweetheart, are you serious?" He asked again, this time in a whisper.

Her frown deepened. "Yes,  it's okay, Wriothesley, I understand, you don't have to pretend that you'd stay. I appreciate the gesture though,  truly. "

She's serious!!

He could barely wrap his head around such a concept!

"You know how many times he shot at me? Are you trying to tell me if I had been the one to take a bullet to the face that you'd call it quits?" Thinking about it made him feel sick. He didn't think Clorinde was so heartless. There was no way.  After everything,  he'd lose her because of an injury?!

Her eyes widened and she gasped. "No! Of course not,  Wriothesley,  I don't care about that! I lov—loathe the fact that… uh, that… t-that people do that to each other…" 

His mind was whirling.  "So what makes you think I'd do that to you?" He asked, dumbfounded. 

She frowned and bit her lip. "I just… I didn't…" she took a deep breath. "Well,  I wouldn't want me… so I figured you wouldn't either…" 

Wriothesley frowned back and went back to cleaning her cheek.  "I'm going to be honest, I'm very upset right now, I almost killed a fucker less than thirty minutes ago— gladly might I add—  So unless you're going to talk about something else,  I don't want to talk anymore because I don't want to argue with you."

"I'm sorry… I didn't think you'd get so upset…" 

"Why wouldn't I get upset? It's as if you don't actually know me at all!  Why would—" he stopped himself and took a deep breath and refocused on carefully applying the bandage to her face. "I'll gladly make the world my enemy if it means keeping you safe…" he whispered. 

He wasn't going to yell at her anymore.  It absolutely wasn't her fault. But he was so mad right now, he felt like punching something– Dougier–  repeatedly in the face until he couldn't recognize his ugly mug anymore. 

"I'm sorry…" she said again, softer.

It took a lot of concentration to make sure he handled her as gently as possible. He didn't want to accidentally hurt her just because of the way his hands were trembling. 

The medicine he applied to her cheek was strong, he's used it himself on worse injuries, but he still couldn't help but worry. 

When he was done he gently lifted her chin so he could observe her better. She looked up at him and smiled softly, but he could tell if was forced. There were tears in her eyes, and it was like a stab in the heart. 

"What's wrong, love?" He asked quietly.  "Did you get hit elsewhere?"

She shook her head. "No… I just think you should know that the bullets he used have a similar effect to the crystal."

" What?"

"I'm fine…but we should find out where he got those. "

His heart dropped. He's going to pay for this. All of it.

Wriothesley scowled and stood up to leave. 

"Wait…could you make a cup of tea for me, please?" Clorinde asked quietly. 

That made him freeze.  Has she ever asked him that before? He was torn. He really wanted to do it, but at the same time, he was still angry. He had to make sure everything with the Society was wrapped up, but… she sounded so sad. 

The bullet was made with the crystal… 

All of that can wait. 

"Of course, sweetheart, is there a specific blend you want?" Wriothesley asked. 

"Earl gray?"

He nodded and left to make it for her. While the tea was brewing he tried to burn off some steam by pacing around the office, but it didn't really help.  

He kept thinking about the dozens of people that were tortured under Dougier's corruption. The fact that so many of them would never be the same. 

And the fact that he almost lost Clorinde… again! And now she was suffering… 

I shouldn't have gotten her involved… 

The kettle went off and he quickly returned to his room with a cup. He caught her wiping her face on her sleeve, and when she saw him she forced a smile. 

"Here you go," Wriothesley murmured and held the cup out to her. 

Clorinde took it and brought the cup up to her face and let the steam warm her. Wriothesley watched her take a small sip and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

He sighed and sat beside her and gently reached out to cup her uninjured cheek in his hand. 

Clorinde turned and nuzzled her face in his palm. "Thank you, mon chéri… I'm feeling better already," she reached up to cling to his wrist. "I'm sorry I was so distracted, I'll try not to let it happen again," She whispered. 

His brows furrowed. "Why did you just stand there? Did you get hurt elsewhere?" He looked over her for the nth time, but he couldn't see any other injury.  

A soft pink dusted her cheeks and she lowered her eyes.  "Honestly,  I was distracted because I was looking at you…" 

"What? Why?"

She bit her lip.  "At first I wanted to make sure you were okay, I was terrified that he'd take an opportunity in the chaos to try to assassinate you again… but then I noticed… um… how sexy you looked…" she shut her eyes. "I didn't even see him point the gun at me because I was too busy staring at you…" 

Wriothesley dropped his hand to his side in shock. There's no way I heard her right. Did she just say what I thought she said?  She almost got shot because—

"Then you lifted a full grown man into the air with one hand…"  she bit her lip and looked off to the side. 

Is she… 

His face felt hot. Gods he was blushing! He couldn't remember the last time he was so flustered!

"I-I was so pink back there not because I felt ill… but uh, well… I was imagining what—" she laughed briefly and pursed her lips. "I got what was coming to me though, the bullet made sure of it."

He could barely process anything right now.  It was like he'd been short circuited. 

He moved to kneel in front of her so he could face her properly.  "Clo, I– you didn't deserve to get shot, don't be ridiculous!" He huffed and absently rubbed her thighs. "Were you really fantasizing about me?" He asked in disbelief.  "In the middle of all that? "

Her cheeks reddened. "...Yes."

He just stared at her like an idiot.  He couldn't believe it. 

"I-I was planning on taking that info to my grave… but I've never seen you look so angry before… and well… I was worried you'd do something you'd regret, and I guess I thought that if anything, telling you would make you laugh…or something…" she crossed her arms.  "So it would be nice if you said something…" 

He didn't know what to say! Thinking back on his actions he only saw himself as arrogant and foolish.  But, she thought he looked… 

"...Your Grace?"

This woman… 

"Wriothesley? Do you want to see what you've done to me?" She whispered.

His face got warmer. He didn't have the capacity to do much else but nod because his brain cells were quickly losing valuable blood supply. 

Clorinde slowly kicked her shoes off and stood up. Her hands trembled as she reached under her skirt and pulled, then tugged at her tights and gradually pulled the sheer fabric down until it pooled at her ankles. 

He watched as her pale legs were slowly revealed. They were flawless and smooth,  scars and all. 

He was so enamored with just staring at the smooth expanse of her crazy long legs that when he finally looked down at where her tights were, it took him a few beats to realize her underwear were also on the floor.  

Black,  with a lacy trim. 

She cleared her throat and he looked back up so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash.  

"You still want to see?" 

Again, he nodded like an idiot. 

She stepped closer to him and lifted her leg, and hooked her knee on his shoulder, forcing her skirt to ride up.

The rest of his blood rushed south so fast all he could really do was stare. He was so close he could taste her if he moved just a bit closer… he wanted to. It has been awhile. 

He finally got his brain to get his hand to move, but right before he touched her she moved her leg off him and stepped away.

"Wait," he murmured and grabbed her by the hips and tugged her closer. He squeezed her hipbone to keep her in place and pressed his other hand against her calf and slowly slid his hand up along her leg. 

He slid his hand up to her thigh and squeezed. Her muscle protested against his hold, and he tightened his grip just until he felt her shake, heard her take in a sharp breath. 

"Don't you have to go?" She asked. 

"Well… I could stay a bit if you want me to…" he said as he slid his hand under her skirt and up along her inner thighs.  "Do you want me to?"

"I don't want to take up your time…"

He pressed a kiss against her hip.  "Sweetheart…"

"If it's not too much to ask…" she whispered.  "I-I'd like a bit of attention…"

He cupped his hand between her legs and applied just enough pressure to split her, so he could feel the heat of her folds, the slick drip on his fingers.

She gasped softly and placed a hand on his shoulder for support. 

He didn't care about anything else right now except making sure she got what she wanted. He'd gladly give her more than a bit of attention. It's what he preferred to be doing anyway. 

He couldn't believe it. The fact that she was so close to losing her life or permanent disfigurement at best all because she was fantasizing about him.

"You weren't concerned for your safety at all?" He asked as he slowly slipped a finger inside her. She moaned softly and dug her nails into his shoulder. 

He started to pump it inside her,  making sure to grind his palm against her each time. 

"T-Two…" she demanded.

He diligently slipped a second finger inside her. 

Clorinde bit her lip and rode his hand for a few beats before she finally gave him insight. 

 "Mhn- no… you were there, mon chéri, why would I fear for my safety– ah– with you by my side?" She sighed. 

 Oh gods, this woman… she says that, yet hasn't he only ever put her in danger? On the other hand, she quite literally saved his life back there. She blocked a bullet from a gardemek aimed at his head… 

He nudged her back so she was sitting on the bed and coaxed her legs further apart. He kissed his way up her inner thighs, leaving marks along the way. 

"You know… I just realized I haven't thanked you for saving my life, everything happened so fast… thank you, love, I'm in your debt."

"No, no, you're not, there's no debt for such things,  you've done it for me, I'd do it again," she sighed. 

"Mh,  then I'll get you a gift…" 

"A kiss is enough."

"I'll give you more than a kiss, love." 

The motion sensor in his room started to beep and he froze. Reality hit him like a slap in the face.  He still had things to take care of… 

He sighed heavily and carefully pulled his hand away from her. There was someone at his office door, and he figured it was one of the guards. 

"I'm sorry, Clo, I—"

"Sorry, I forgot—"

He paused and leaned up and got in her face. "Don't apologize, love," he murmured and gave her a gentle kiss on that pretty pout of hers. 

"But I held you back longer than—"

"Hush."

She sighed and looked away.

A muffled knock could be heard and Wriothesley grabbed her hands and pressed kisses against her palms and knuckles. 

"I'll probably be back late sweetheart, but if you don't mind, waiting, I'll ravish you properly when I get back," he said between kisses. 

Clorinde sighed and grabbed his face. "You don't have to worry about that."

The knocking got louder.

He frowned. "I want to, sweetheart."

She held his gaze for a few beats and gently traced her thumb over his lips.  "What should I do until then? Did you need me to help you with anything?"

He kissed her thumb and turned his face into her palm so he could kiss it too. "No, you stay here, rest up if you want,  or…" he grinned and stood up.  "You could touch yourself until I get back…"

Her eyes widened and she blushed.  "Oh?"

He leaned forward and nuzzled into the side of her neck and showered her with more kisses. "Mhm, imagine it's me," he murmured and let his hands ghost down her arms.  "How would I touch you, love? Where would you want me to kiss, or squeeze?" 

He pulled away to look at her face to find it a bright red.  

He smirked. "Then when you can't bare the teasing anymore,  I want you to fuck yourself on my bed, use three fingers, but don't come until I get back. I'll take care of that for you~"

Her face brightened further and she looked away.  " Wriothesley…"

"Would you want to come whilst riding my face? Or with me buried deep inside you? Tell me when I get back," he said and took his coat off. "Or, you can take a warm bath and help yourself to my tea collection, as long as you're happy I'll be as well, okay?" he said and draped his coat around her shoulders. 

"Okay..."

It wasn't necessary, his room was warm, and she had plenty of blankets at her disposal, but he wanted to leave her with a piece of himself, just in case she still felt vulnerable. 

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said and kissed her forehead before leaving the room so he could finally put all of this chaos behind him.

Chapter Text

Clorinde was late to work. 

In fact, she was so late that she let Wriothesley convince her not to bother showing up all together. 

There's only what? Four hours of your shift left? And that's if you fly out of here, but you're still in bed so…

She'd been very conflicted, but she knew Lady Furina's schedule for the month, and nothing was supposed to be going on today… that knowledge helped ease her concerns.  

On top of that, she'd never been late before, she'd never missed a day before. In Wriothesley's words, you're human, darling, she'll understand, and Neuvillette will as well,  if there's a problem, then you can come work with me full time~!

She'd told him to keep dreaming, but it was still enough to get her to stay and have breakfast –very late lunch– with him. That's where she put her foot down though, because she didn't want to risk waking up late again if she stayed another night.

A night that left her exhausted… 

It wasn't because she didn't trust him to let her sleep, but because she didn't trust herself to not ask him for more … 

She was a bit ashamed over it… 

Just thinking about it made her blush. It didn't help that she was left so sore. Every movement she made ached, and simultaneously reminded her why. She was lucky that her clothes covered everything up, else she might as well announce to the world why she missed work. 

Her neck and back looked like a crime scene… 

She hadn't said anything because she'd been so into it at the time, but she was considering telling him to at least leave her neck alone… 

Clorinde sighed and wandered into a beauty boutique. She was low on lipstick, and her favorite shade had been out of stock for awhile now. She could also use a bit of cover up… just in case. 

She absently browsed the items on display until something caught her eye. A small collection of sample shampoos. She'd been meaning to get something for Wriothesley, but she hadn't been sure which to get him. This would be perfect. She could leave him a note to let her know if he had a favorite or not, and then get him a full set. 

Each one smelled very nice, but there was one in particular that she liked the best, but she decided not to tell him so she could get an honest opinion from him. 

The next thing that caught her attention was another set of samples. Perfumes to be precise. 

Curious, she grabbed one at random and sprayed it on the small card provided. 

It was much too flowery for her liking, so she moved on to the next one. Each one just didn't smell like something she'd wear. Perfume wasn't something she was ever really into, and by the looks of it, that wasn't going to change. 

She was just about to give up and continue looking for the lipstick, but the next scent made her gasp.

It reminded her so much of Wriothesley… 

She closed her eyes and brought the sample closer to her face. She really liked it, but at the same time,  it felt like something was missing. 

How would it smell on him? Would it fit him?  Or did it need a different ingredient before it could fit?  She wasn't sure. Maybe she could commission a unique blend from Ms. Emilie using this as inspiration? Her perfumes were the highest quality in Fontaine, but with such renown came cost. 

I could definitely afford it though.  She still had extra funds from the excessive amount of side work she did a few years ago.  What else would she use it for? She's donated lots in the past, but it wouldn't hurt to indulge in extravagance now and again for her hard work. 

It'd be a gift anyway. Oh, she missed him already.

"That's one of their newest scents!"

Clorinde startled and almost dropped the bottle.  "Oh! Heavens– I'm– ah, you startled me," she said and turned to see who had managed to sneak up on her,  a rare feat. 

It was Navia…

She gasped and clutched the bottle close to her chest. "N-Navia! What are you doing here?"

"Hmm, I was just grabbing some nail polish, what are you doing here?"

"I was just uh, looking for–"

" Men's cologne?"

"No…" she bit the inside of her cheek and slowly put the bottle back after taking a mental note of the name.  "I was appreciating the samples, is all…" 

"Oh yeah? You must really like that one specifically, what with the way it made you smile! Going to buy it for a special someone~?"

"...No."

"Oh? So what's that for?" Navia pointed to her shopping basket where the shampoo samples she'd gotten for Wriothesley sat,  all obviously not feminine variants… 

She tensed and glanced at the basket. "Oh… uhm… this is just for… a co-worker, " she said awkwardly.

Navia put her hands on her hips. "Clorinde, you expect me to believe that?"

"I'm just telling you the truth, Navia. There's no reason for me to lie… I just— besides, I haven't the time for such nonsense, surely you know that, I'm just… doing a favor for someone that doesn't like to shop…"

She narrowed her eyes and stared at her for a few beats. Thankfully Clorinde was able to keep a straight face. 

"Hmph, well,  I guess that's nice of you,  I just got excited for you,  I think it'd be nice if you found someone," she sighed in defeat. 

Clorinde couldn't help but be reminded of what Wriothesley told her. She had a tell when she lied. Apparently he knew how to read her like an open book.  A part of her hoped he was just bluffing, but he hadn't been wrong yet, and she secretly liked the fact that he knew her so well…

She felt safe around him. So much so that she unknowingly let her guard down around him to a point where it was nonexistent.  The person she was around him when no one else was there was vastly different in comparison to who she was around others. She didn't think she was two faced, but damn was it starting to feel like it… 

On top of that, she never would have thought that lying about her situation would make her feel so… gross. Guilt was another big emotion that enveloped her.  Especially with the way she clung to him last night like she was some kind of damsel in need of saving. At the time though, she very much felt like she was.

Then the fact that his name briefly became the only word that she knew how to say…

Even though she couldn't even say the whole thing at one point and was only able to get the first part out.

Wrio… 

Heat crept up the back of her neck and she awkwardly shuffled over to the aisle she should have been in all along. 

The problem was, she was pretty sure he'd be ecstatic if she ventured down there to see him tonight. The part that made things more difficult was the main entrance to the Fortress led directly to the back of the Opera Epiclese, where a few of her shifts ended for the day…

It would take her more time to go home.

"Erm, so,  have you been well?" Clorinde asked,  hoping to steer the conversation away from herself. 

"I have, there's a lot going on, but I suppose if we just mean me personally, then yes, I'm doing well. What happened to your face? Did you get hurt at work?"

"Oh… yeah, it's nothing.  I get these all the time… I'm glad you're doing well though," the lipstick she wanted wasn't here either, so she just picked a clear gloss so she wouldn't look too suspicious.

"Oh,  okay…" Navia grabbed some nail polish and cleared her throat. "Clorinde, have you had dinner yet?"

"Uh, I haven't."

"Then please join me for dinner, my treat of course, I think it is time that we catch up," Navia said. 

Clorinde froze. Did she really think that?  

"Navia… you don't have to force yourself," she said quietly,  lest her voice betray the turmoil in her heart.  

Aside from Wriothesley,  Navia was her only real friend growing up.  Wriothesley was there to take her running through the streets and through the woods, Navia was there to accompany her to balls and tea parties. Two worlds that she thrived in thanks to the other, and when one of those worlds came crashing down,  Navia was there to hold her steady. 

Until she destroyed their friendship with her blade. 

"I'm not forcing anything Clorinde,  however, I think it's only fair to allow you the same grace and forgiveness I know my father wanted me to give you," she took a deep breath and placed her hand on her arm.  "I know you did nothing wrong."

Clorinde nodded. "Okay, I'd like that…" 

"Great! Let's go then," Navia ushered her to the register and handed the employee a large amount of mora. "I'll pay for everything."

Clorinde frowned and held her items away.  "Um… no thank you, I appreciate it, but it isn't necessary."

 "Oh come on,  I insist, don't tell me this co-worker of yours expected you to use your own money?"

"No… I was given funds…"

"Well, I'm sure he'd be grateful that he didn't have to use them!"

Her frown deepened. As much as she appreciated the gesture, she really wanted this to be a gift from her in its entirety. She forgot how kind Navia could be, and now she was at risk of insulting her kindness just because she was too afraid to tell the truth… 

The worst part was she was starting to feel like she was making it a bigger deal than it needed to be… 

Navia cleared her throat and turned to the employee. "Rain check on that, we'll ring up everything separately."

Clorinde's ears burned, but she didn't dare speak anymore and quickly left the shop once everything was paid. 

"I apologize for the hassle," Navia said as she held her bag out just as one of her bodyguards grabbed it.

"It's alright… I was just caught off guard…" Clorinde said.

"Well!" Navia clapped her hands together.  "I'm sure you remember, Meluse," she gestured to her older bodyguard. 

Clorinde smiled and nodded.  "Yes,  of course,  how are you,  Monsieur?"

He chucked and bowed briefly. "No need for such formality Mademoiselle, it's certainly good to see you and Demoiselle together again."

"And he is newer, this is Silver! Silver, this is Clorinde." 

He bowed just as Meluse did. "A-A  pleasure to meet you,  Mademoiselle."

"The pleasure is mine," Clorinde said with a smile. 

"Now that everyone is acquainted, let us go to my favorite Cafe!" Navia said and turned down the street. 

Clorinde followed her to the cafe where she had VIP reservations. She had Meluse and Silver order their own food at in the ground floor of the cafe, and led her to her usual spot on the second floor. She ordered some sweets and tea and cleared her throat once the table was properly set.

"I apologize for making you uncomfortable back there."

"No, it's fine, really,  I'm sorry for making a fuss…"

Navia waved her off. "Nonsense,  I was much too pushy..."

They fell silent for a few moments until Navia spoke up. 

"So… what has Fontaine's best duelist been up to?" She said as she absently stirred her tea

Clorinde frowned and looked down at her own teacup. "Unfortunately, not much aside from work…"

"Oh… well,  if you'd like you can join me for tea on Wednesdays, like a midweek pick me up? Perhaps during your break for the afternoon?"

"Oh,  yes,  I'd like that," Clorinde said, and reached for the small container of sugar. She didn't typically add sugar to her coffee or tea, but for some reason she was craving a bit of sweetness today.

"That's new," Navia said and gestured to the sugar cube Clorinde dropped in her cup. 

"Uh… what do you mean?" Clorinde asked as she slowly reached for another one. 

"Growing up you always complained about the tea I made being too sweet!" 

"Well… this is how—" Wriothesley usually makes his tea… she caught herself just in time, but ended up awkwardly staring at her cup while Navia's eyes bore into her. 

"How what?"

"I uh… like to end the day…."

"Really?"

"A warm cup of tea at the end of a long day of work is a great remedy for a stressful day…" 

Why does that feel like I've heard it before somewhere?... 

Navia nodded. "Wow, well,  I couldn't have said it better myself!" She offered her some macaroons. "These are the perfect complement, truly."

Clorinde took two and silently thanked the fact that she seemed to be buying her terrible excuses. Perhaps she just figured she was just socially awkward? 

Which she was. 

There was no doubting that. 

But what was really troubling her now was the fact that she kept unintentionally bringing up Wriothesley! 

If she wasn't careful, she might slip on accident. But why was she doing it? It wasn't like he was relevant to the conversation… right? 

"So what do you think of the Duke of Meropide?"

Clorinde choked on her tea. 

"Oh goodness, are you okay?"

Clorinde nodded and cleared her throat once the coughing passed.  "Excuse me– um… I uh… don't think I'm the best person to ask, perhaps Monsieur Neuvillette will be a better choice, or Lady Furina?"

Navia leaned forward on the table.  "That's funny,  because I spoke to Monsieur Neuvillette the other day. I happened across his path while he was on a stroll. We chatted briefly, and when I asked him about the Duke he suggested that I ask you."

Clorinde bit her lip. "That's strange  I'm not sure why he would say that…" 

"Well,  he said you two, uh, play games?"

What!?  

Her blood both ran cold and flushed hot in her face. 

"I-I beg your pardon?"

"Well,  he mentioned that he was visiting the Fortress for business, and you happened to be there. He did in fact say, and I quote–" She cleared her throat and lowered her pitch.  " I believe they were playing some kind of strange game about the outcome of said mission. If you wish to know more about the Duke, I'm sure Miss Clorinde can tell you all you need to know, she even works for him on occasion–  ahem end quote."

There goes her excuse of not knowing him! 

"W-Well… I can assure you that I wasn't playing a game, as he mentioned himself,  I was just there for business purposes… I'm afraid I can't really discuss the details." 

"Hm… Yeah,  I did think it was odd that he'd say that,  but why would the Iudex lie?"

Her palms started to feel clammy. "Uh, well,  I'm not saying he was lying, merely misinformed? You said he mentioned a game about the mission? I think Wriothesley just confused him, it was just a bet, nothing really of note."

Navia nodded and popped another macaroon in her mouth.  "Wriothesley?"

"Uh… yes?"

" His Grace,  Clorinde?"

Oh…  

Clorinde felt like she was on trial! And right now she must look terribly guilty… 

"Navia… I was under the impression you wanted to catch up, not put me on trial," Clorinde half-heartedly joked. 

Her eyes widened. "Oh dear, forgive me, it really was my intention to catch up with you,  I didn't mean to question you this way," she sighed. "It's just, I've been in the court a lot lately, it seems I've slipped back into that mindset without realizing…" 

"I see… Well, no worries, though I'm curious,  why are you so interested in knowing about the Duke? Isn't the best route to simply request an audience?" Clorinde asked. "I'm sure with your reputation it will be easy."

Navia huffed.  "One would think!  I did in fact get an audience with him a few years back, and boy did he take me for a ride! When I got out of there I didn't remember why I was even there in the first place until I was already home!"

Clorinde frowned and absently picked at her macaroons. Why did that make her feel so uncomfortable? What did she go down there for? She was afraid to ask. 

Unfortunately her mind began to spiral. 

Navia was gorgeous. Always has been. She was the perfect height, body shape, and she had a pleasant voice. Many men have lined up asking for her hand. For whatever reason she declined each time, but the numbers were surely in the twenties of how many hearts she's broken… The princess of the Spina could surely have anyone she wanted. 

She also happened to have blonde hair and blue eyes… 

"Um… Navia… have you uh—" she couldn't get herself to finish the question! 

It was such a distasteful assumption, but it was hard not to! If she was wrong, then surely that would offend Navia, and perhaps destroy the olive branch she was offering her, but if she was right… 

Would it hurt less if she asked Wriothesley directly? 

That was the problem though, just the thought hurt, and she knew it shouldn't. If they did have relations, that was a few years ago at this point. But this wasn't some random woman… This was Navia!

"Have I what?"

Clorinde tensed and awkwardly coughed in her sleeve.  "Uh, h-have you tried recently to contact him?"

"I have actually,  but my letters have been unanswered! Not even a polite rejection, no regard for proper etiquette."

"Well, what do you even need from the Duke of Meropide of all people…" 

"Oh,  right, right, apologies, I'm distracting myself. I found a letter from him in my father's possessions. At least I believe it is from him,  see the letter was very short, and it wasn't signed with a name. It was just a seal of a three headed wolf… I've had my men do a bit of digging and we believe it is indeed the seal of The Duke."

"What did the note say?"

"All it said was, consider it done ."

Clorinde's brows rose. "That's a bit ominous…"

"Right?  I have to know what the heck was going on, I've tried everything to get the man to tell me, but he won't crack!"

"I uh… I wish I could help you,  but I only work for him now and again through commissions he has sent to the Palais Mermonia. I doubt he'd tell me anything…" 

That was the question though… would he tell her? 

She'd never assume he'd just spill the beans if she asked him just because they were seeing each other. But she was curious what he'd say… 

Navia sighed heavily. "Ugh, really? I was hoping he'd be a bit more open to talking if you asked for me."

"I'm just an uh.. employee, Navia… why would he tell me anything? Besides, wouldn't it be suspicious if I randomly asked him about a letter he sent your father?"

"Hm, I suppose you're right," she sighed and leaned back in her chair.  "Well… I suppose I could try and just march down there and cause a ruckus, maybe then he'd show his handsome face."

Clorinde wanted to switch topics. Why the heck did she keep noticing these things?  "You think he's handsome?..."

Navia's eyes widened and she pointed her fork at her. "Are you going to tell me that you disagree?"

Keep your mouth shut Clorinde!  "Uh, well… I haven't really paid too much attention…" 

That was her worst lie yet!

Of course she agreed! The craziest part was he didn't seem to realize how beautiful he was!  Did he really think women flocked to him just for the lay? Why else did he think it was so easy for him to find company for the night? 

It wasn't just his face, but his physic as well. 

To say that the Duke of Meropide was built like a modern Adonis might as well be fact. Tall, strong, and… 

… and,  Clorinde felt exactly how strong too when he drove her into his mattress last night.

Heat once again crept up the back of her neck and she tilted her head down just enough for her hat to block her line of sight with Navia's face.  

"Clorinde, you must be lying! Really? You never looked at him and thought,  wow," Navia gasped. 

"N-Navia please, Fontaine has many of high standing that one could consider– uh– good looking.  Lady Furina is beautiful, there is no doubt about that, and Monsieur Neuvillette is as handsome as he is intimidating, surely you know this. Must we really gossip about it like schoolgirls?"

Navia giggled behind her hand and sighed dramatically. "You're right yet again, Clorinde,  I'm sorry for getting carried away, but doesn't it feel nice? Gossiping like carefree teenagers again…" she smiled softly to herself. 

Clorinde smiled back and nodded slowly. "I suppose it is nice…" she shook her head and finished her tea.  "Thank you for inviting me… really."

"Oh of course! Next time we should go down to Possion! I can show you around and I'll cook you up something nice and homemade!  How's that sound?"

"I'd like that."

"Perfect! Oh,  speaking of The Spina, that reminds me, do you remember that one girl that used to make fun of us at parties? Well guess what happened to her…"

Navia went on to tell her about the lives of many of the residents, how some of the other girls that they used to hang out with at parties were fairing, and everything in between. 

It really did feel like they were teenagers again.  Giggling, and gossiping about nonsense. 

It gave Clorinde hope for the future. Maybe the possibility of friendship wasn't so out of reach after all.

It was well past sundown by the time they made it out of the cafe, it seemed the owner let them stay and chat while he was closing. 

They both thanked him profusely, and Navia gave him a huge tip on behalf of the Spina. 

Before they parted ways, Navia insisted that she allow her to walk her home.

"Come on now,  it's dark out,  a lady should never be alone at night! "

Clorinde smiled and shook her head.  "I appreciate it, but I'm not exactly a defenseless damsel. No need to worry. You go on home, get some rest."

"Well, I'm not either, I'll have you know! Besides, we're not alone, we've got Meluse and Silver! Why should we lift a finger if we don't have to?"

"Demoiselle speaks in jest, but she is also right, we will take care of any hooligans that dare try anything,  so you ladies need not lift a finger, " Meluse said.

"Right! " Silver echoed. 

Clorinde gave in, just to keep the peace, and continued her conversation with Navia along the way. 

Once they got to her townhouse, she turned to her with a smile.

"Thank you again, Navia, I had fun today, I'm glad that everyone is doing well in Possion despite everything," Clorinde said.

"Oh it was no trouble, I'm just glad that you accepted my invitation, and tolerated my unintentional interrogations." 

Clorinde fussed with the bag she got from the boutique earlier that day and cleared her throat. "About that… I should be seeing His Grace soon for… a commission… if I have the opportunity,  I can bring up the letter, but I can't guarantee I'll get any useful information." 

Navia gasped and clutched her hands together. "Oh would you really? That would be wonderful!  Thank you! Any information would be appreciated."

"I'll let you know then," Clorinde waved her farewell to the trio, and stood on her stoop as they walked away.

She said the letter said,  'consider it done', what could that even be about? 

Chapter Text

"That is all I know, I can assure that if there were any more stragglers, they would have been dealt with already, the Fatui have also been a pain in my rear," Wriothesley said as he snuck a second sugar cube in the water the Iudex called tea. 

If he wasn't here on such import business, he'd poke fun at Neuvillette's attempt at brewing tea. Which he would call letting the teabag touch the water for barely a second before discarding it. 

But who was he to judge? He was no tea expert–at least not certified– and he was certainly no judge. That was literally Neuvillette's job. 

Well, mostly. Ignoring the fact that A giant machine made the true final call. The Oratrice… an equal parts amazing and terrifying divine creation.

But was it really divine? 

Those were questions that Wriothesley didn't spend too much energy on. He didn't need to blame the authenticity of a divine machine for his sentencing. He knew he had been guilty all those years ago, and even as a child, he always did his best to be as honest as he could. 

Life hadn't treated him too harshly as a result, considering everything. 

Neuvillette sighed and added a few more notes to his document. "I see,  thank you Wriothesley, the Palais Mermonia truly appreciates your cooperation."

Wriothesley downed the rest of the sugar water and stood up. "Of course, if that's all, I'll be on my way."

He had a few errands to run, and he'd like to get them done while the sun was still out, just so he could appreciate the warmth a bit before going back to the Fortress. 

"Oh, I do have one more request," Neuvillette said. 

"Hm?"

"I know you've got people scattered about Fontaine relying you information–"

Wriothesley tensed and attempted to interject, but Neuvillette held his hand up. 

"–I only ask that you ask them to keep an eye out for Lady Furina's safety. We of course have our own safety measures, don't be mistaken but I fear she has gotten too skilled at avoiding said safety measures over the years. She tends to wander at times, and I worry for her safety. Especially as of late. I know the Fortress of Meropide is separate from Fontaine, so I ask you this not as the Iudex, but as a humble man requesting a favor."

Wriothesley nodded. "Well, the Duke of Meropide is still a citizen of Fontaine, Lady Furina will be safe on her nightly excursions so long as I have anything to say about it."

Neuvillette nodded. "Well then, I appreciate it, you have a good day."

Wriothesley nodded and left his office. He wanted to stop by Clorinde's office to see if she was in, but at the same time, she wasn't sure if she'd take kindly to that. 

He knew she was uncomfortable with the public knowing about them, but at the same time, he just wanted to see her. He missed her. An innocent hello wouldn't be a problem, right? 

Wriothesley moved over to the front desk where the Melusine, Sedene was.  

"Good afternoon, Sedene, how are you?" He asked. 

"Oh! I'm good!  Thank you,  Your Grace, how are you?" She asked.

"Good, good,  Sigewinne sends her regards."

"Oh!  Yes,  by the way, I have a gift for her," she said and slid a small Keychain across the counter.  "Could you please make sure it gets to her safely?"

"Of course I will," he said and tucked it in his pocket. "Oh, by the way,  could you let me upstairs? I have to take care of a few things."

"Hm? Well, I'm not sure if—"

He handed her a large stack of stickers. 

"Hmm…"

On the very top of the stack he placed a small mechanical beetle. 

"Right this way, Sir," she said and opened the door for him.

"Thank you, my dear," he smiled and held his finger by his lips in a shush motion. 

She nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

Wriothesley grinned and swiftly snuck upstairs. He knew Clorinde's office number by heart, and it didn't take long for him to figure out where it was. 

Once he got to her office he listened for a beat to see if she was there, and he grinned when he heard faint paper rustling.  

He burst into her office. 

"Ah!" She jumped so much she dropped her pen and slammed her knee on her desk. "Ow–" She grit her teeth and started to rub her knee. 

"Oh, shit, aha, I'm sorry, love," Wriothesley said and rushed to her side. He knelt in front of her and cooled his hand and placed it over her knee. 

"You!" She clawed her hand into his hair and shook his head.  "You scared me!" She hissed through her teeth. 

He grinned. "I'm only sorry you got hurt,  sweetheart, are you okay?" 

She sighed heavily and loosened her grip and gently scratched at his scalp. "Yes,  I'm fine. What are you doing here?" She whispered. 

"I had a meeting with Neuvillette," he said as he absently rubbed her leg with his other hand.  "There was no way I'd come all the way up here and not see you."

"What are the chances I'd actually be in my office when you showed up? I'm barely in here," she sighed. 

"It must be my lucky day," he said and kissed her thigh.  "I've missed you…" 

She smiled and brushed his hair out of his face.  "And I you…" 

The soft way that she said that brought heat to his cheeks. Then the way she gently held his face, and her small smile…

Oh, she made him feel so pleasantly warm. He didn't expect to melt like this… gods, he loved her so damn much. 

 "I love you, Clo…" he murmured and nuzzled into her palm. 

"You're such a sap," she said and leaned down to press a kiss against his lips. 

He hadn't intended to say that outloud, but the concern quickly melted away as her lips molded against his. 

She sighed softly and hooked her arm around his neck to bring him in closer.

Her lips were so plush against his, a soft caress that sent slow waves of heat creeping deep into his veins. She sighed into his mouth and gently sucked on his top lip before slowly pulling away.

He gave chase and cupped the back of her neck so he could pull her back in. "How's your cheek?" He murmured as he pressed kisses all across her cheek and jaw.

"Good as new, there's only a faint mark."

He kissed said mark softly before slowly moving back to her lips. "I'm sorry," he murmured. 

"It'll fade, don't worry," she whispered.

He will though... 

He tightened his grip on her neck and pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. She gave in easily, and parted her lips and he eagerly brushed his tongue against hers. 

She tasted sweet. 

"Mmn, what's that?" He murmured and pointedly sucked her tongue as he pulled away to kiss along her jaw again.

"You like?"

"Mhm."

"It's strawberry crème," she said and leaned away so she could dig into a drawer. She set a small jar on her desk and pulled her glove off before taking out a red and white candy and pressed it against his lips. 

She pushed gently and he let her press it in his mouth. She snuck her finger in his mouth and rubbed it against his tongue before pulling away. 

"What do you think?" She asked. 

It took him a few beats to process what she said because he was too busy staring at her lips. 

"Still like it?"

He smirked. "I like how it tastes better on your lips~"

Clorinde rolled her eyes and shoved his face away. "Sure you do."

"I do."

She shook her head and picked up her pen. "As much as I'd love to entertain you more, I have work to do."

"Hm, do you want help? I don't mind staying," he said hopefully.  He didn't care about putting off his errands to do more paperwork if it meant being able to spend time with her.

"I appreciate the offer, but unlike you,  I can't give my work to just anyone you know," she straightened her paperwork. "I have bosses, remember?"

He sighed heavily and stood up. She was right, he nearly forgot she still had to answer to people. As much as he personally wasn't afraid of poking around,  he knew she was a stickler for the rules, and he'd never dream of purposely impeding on her work. 

"I guess I'll see you around then," even though he said that, he made no move to leave. He didn't want to. 

"Yes, I'll see you around," she said. 

Wriothesley drifted to her door but couldn't help but linger. "Have you had lunch yet, darling?"

She perked up and turned to inspect a calendar on her wall.  "No actually,  but… oh, I'm actually supposed to be meeting Navia for lunch today," she said. "I haven't gotten to tell you yet, she approached me last week saying she wanted to finally catch up, and she set up weekly meets." 

"Oh, really, that's great!" He said honestly. He knew how much Clorinde missed her dear friend. Their tragic fallout was hard on her. 

They were like sisters growing up. He'd only met her twice as a kid. Back then he was a bit too intimidated by her bubbly personality, but he always encouraged Clorinde to hang out with her instead if she popped up unannounced. 

It was no different now. 

"You're going to go right?" He asked. 

Clorinde bit her lip and glanced back at him.  "Well… I'd like to have lunch with you too…"

He shook his head. "Go with your friend, love. It'll be good for you, I'll just see you… whenever."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "If you decide you can't stand the sun anymore, you know where to find me," he joked lightly. 

She rolled her eyes.  "Noted…"

He smiled and ducked through her door. A small part of him was just a little disappointed, but he did his best to shake it off. He really was happy for her, but he didn't know when he'd be free enough to venture back up to visit her. 

He heard her door open. 

"Oh, wait," she called after him. 

He turned around so fast he had to press his hand against the wall to steady himself. "Hm?"

She hurried out in the hall and stopped in front of him.  "I just have a quick question…"

"Oh,  ask away, sweetheart."

She frowned and cleared her throat.  " Your Grace… when I was talking with Navia, she mentioned a letter you wrote to her Father, it was a promise to do something, do you remember what that was about?"

Wriothesley sighed and crossed his arms.  A letter he wrote to Callas?  That was not what he was expecting her to ask. He only had a few interactions with the man, but nothing that he thought was worth—

Oh. There is one thing. 

"Navia asked you to ask me?" He asked.

Clorinde frowned and crossed her arms as well.  "Well… I volunteered. She said it's important to her."

"Are you not worried she just approached you then for information?" He didn't like the sound of that,  but if that was Navia's true intentions… Well,  suffice to say he wouldn't just stand by and let Clorinde be taken advantage of. 

"No,  I trust her."

"Without a doubt?"

She visibly tensed. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm simply making sure you've considered it."

"What? That I shouldn't trust her?"

"It's something to think about, love, it's always good to keep your guard up until you are sure."

She bristled. "What about you? Your Grace?"

He was a bit taken aback by her tone. Was she implying that she had reason to distrust him?  Whatever for? 

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Why didn't you ever mention that she has been trying to contact you?"

"She has?"

She scoffed. "You're trying to tell me you didn't notice her letters? She said she's sent multiple! What's the secret?"

Wriothesley frowned deeply. He didn't like how accusatory she was being.  He's never outright refused to give her information, but he didn't like being put on the spot like this. 

"Apologies, Miss Clorinde, The Duke of Meropide doesn't discuss business with just anybody ," he said. "Surely you understand that?"

"Wha–"

"Unfortunately, I've got things to attend to, so if you decide you want an audience, you're always free to request one. But be sure to use the proper channels, I'm a busy man, and don't have much time to waste, and have a  very limited amount of time slots available, have a good evening, " he said and left down the hall. 

He heard her follow, but he didn't slow down.  He was a bit irritated with her. Why would she talk to him like that if there wasn't a reason for her distrust? Then there was the way she reacted when he spoke to her once they were in the hall... 

 He'd done it again, accidently express his love for her in public… 

He really didn't see a problem with people knowing about their situation. He didn't care about reporters or potential gossip or any of that. He was tired of pretending, why should he? 

Because she asked you to… it's not that hard. Just put a little effort in! 

"Your Grace, wait!"

He grimaced to himself.  It was a simple ask, but he hated it.  Constantly worrying about what he does or says in front of people just so they won't find out that he's plowing the Champion Duelist?  He wasn't ashamed of it. In fact,  he wanted people to know! 

What was wrong with people knowing that he was hers as much as he hoped she was his? 

He slipped into the stairwell, but she was still on his heels. 

"Wriothesley, don't leave like that, I—"

He turned on her and swiftly crowded her against the wall,  trapping her between his arms.  

"You can't have it both ways, Miss Clorinde. If you want me to talk to you in a specific way, then I expect the same. I don't let just anyone talk to me how they please. A friend is not obligated to know anything that I know. A coworker even less so.  

 "Have you ever wondered how it would look if the Duke of Meropide let some woman back talk to him in public?"

She just stared up at him with wide eyes. She tried to speak a few times but nothing came out. 

He frowned at her and grabbed her face by the chin and forced her face up so he could see her clearly. "What has she said to make you distrust me?" 

"She hasn't said anything."

"Liar," he growled and tightened his hold on her. 

"She hasn't!" 

He scoffed and leaned down closer to her face.  " Liar."

"I'm not—"

He heard someone enter the stairwell and he let her go and walked away. 

He didn't want to cause a scene, and he wasn't going to stand there anymore and let her lie in his face. 

He passed a member of the garde on his way down that he gave a polite nod to.

A part of him hoped Clorinde would follow him, but even as he left the building he saw no sight of her.  

That was the thing though,  she didn't have to. 

Maybe he should have just answered her questions. He let his ego get in the way. He would have told her exactly what she wanted to know if she'd simply asked instead of implying he was purposely hiding things from her. 

He didn't have to tell her anything. Yet he told her just about everything,  why couldn't she see that? 

On top of that he was growing weary of having to mind his mannerisms around her in public. He loved her. 

She knew that. 

Why did he have to hide it?  He didn't want to treat her like just anybody because she wasn't! 

"Maybe I shouldn't have bothered her…" if he had known he'd be walking away feeling so sour he'd have left her alone all together.  But their relationship was starting to feel like a long distance one. And it didn't help that he couldn't even hug her unless no one was around.  

I guess I can just wait until she wants to see me herself… 

He had loads of work to do anyway. He could occupy himself with that in the meantime. 

.

 .

It was another week and a half before he saw her again. And that was only because he'd gone to the surface to take care of a few things.  He was interviewing a few new applicants to replace the swath of guards he fired that had been involved in the Beret Society debacle.  So far, things haven't been very promising… 

He had been sitting outside at a cafe when she walked by, he made eye contact with her for a brief moment, but she quickly looked away.  

She was with someone. 

Resisting the urge to not only call out to her but go over to her was surprisingly difficult. 

The emotional whiplash he got from seeing her was dizzying. Going from being ecstatic to simply see her to feeling crushed that he couldn't approach her plummeted his mood. 

He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair. A whole day of failed interviews and now he couldn't even get himself to say hi to her. 

She probably isn't even around anymore… 

On top of all that,  his next interviewee was late by– he checked his pocket watch– fifteen minutes! 

Someone sat in front of him and he sighed heavily and tossed the folder in his hand aside. 

"You're extremely late, so you better impress me, or else it's a no from me," he muttered.

"I'm so sorry I'm late! I was at the wrong cafe!" The man said. 

He grimaced and checked his folder. "You're Gerard?"

He nodded.  "Yes, yes, I'm so sorry."

"You understand situational awareness is very important for the job? If you still want the position you are going to have to really convince me. I'm not in the mood for this," Wriothesley muttered.

"Ah,  of course,  but see I was on time I swear —"

"At the wrong place."

… 

He ended up telling the guy to take a hike and left to look for a few necessities. 

On his way to the market he saw her standing outside of a hat boutique in the fanciest dress he's seen on her in her adult life. It was a deep violet that matched her hair that appeared to be styled in soft waves. The dress hugged her figure in all the right places, making her look like a tulip right before it bloomed. 

He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn't seeing things. 

Wow.

"Clo?" He whispered as he approached her. "Wow, you look gorgeous."

She looked up at him with wide eyes.  "Your Grace? What are you doing here?"

"I was just interviewing a few applicants for a job," he murmured and reached for her. 

She stepped away, leaving him to awkwardly drop his hands in the space between them. Right. They were in public. He forgot himself for a moment… 

"How did it go?" She asked.

He would have kissed her by now if she'd let him. He couldn't stop staring at her lips.  They were covered in a clear sheen that made the natural pink of her lips stand out. 

He leaned on the iron bar railing in front of the shop so he could look at her eye level. "What's the occasion, love?"

She cleared her throat loudly. "I'm just going to have tea with Navia…" 

He was considering teasing her over the fact that she never dressed up when he served her tea, but he was too busy staring at her face. 

Gosh she looked wonderful. 

Clorinde was beautiful, it was as obvious as the starry night. But he hadn't seen her dolled up like this in years, and he really appreciated how amazing she looked. 

He picked a mint flower that was growing in the middle of the shop's flower box and held it out to her.  

Her eyes widened and she slowly took it.  "Oh…Your Grace, um… thank you."

"I'm sorry, Clo, last time we met I was pretty rude,  I really didn't intend to act like that."

"It's okay, I understand... I was rude as well..."

He shook his head and sighed.  "I'll do better, you won't have to worry anymore about—"

Someone burst out of the shop,  making them jump.  

"Clorinde! I've found the perfect one!" 

It was Navia and she was holding a very extravagant black hat. 

Clorinde gasped and hid the flower behind her back. 

"Oh! Your Grace!" Navia said. "What a pleasant surprise! What brings you here?"

"Afternoon, Miss Navia, it's been awhile. I'm just passing through… it's good to see you're doing well," Wriothesley said.

She nodded enthusiastically.  "Yes, yes,  and you?  You are well?"

"As well as one can be.."

Navia showed Clorinde the hat.  "Try it on!"

"Uh… I dunno,  Navia, it looks a bit too big," Clorinde said. 

"Nonsense! Try it on! We can let His Grace be the judge!"

Clorinde sighed and put the hat on. 

Wriothesley had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid grinning like an idiot. She looked so good. 

Fate really must have it out for him because he was at risk of being condemned for wanting to express how beautiful he thought the woman he fucking loved was… 

"Well what do you think, Your Grace? She looks good doesn't she?" Navia asked. 

Wriothesley didn't know what to do. If he said she looked stunning would that upset her? Surely it was normal to give such compliments to a woman who looked so regal… 

"Ooo! Are you blushing Your Grace!?" Navia laughed. 

Wriothesley coughed awkwardly in his sleeve and leaned off the railing.  "I'm just not used to the sunlight… it's a bit warm today…" 

"Well, what do you think of the hat? She looks gorgeous doesn't she?"

Clorinde grabbed her friend's arm. "Navia, leave His Grace alone.  I'm sure he's much too busy to be entertaining us."

"Well I'm sure he has the time to answer a simple question! C'mon, what do you think?"

Wriothesley cleared his throat and stepped away. "It looks…" lovely, beautiful… sexy…. "...erm, like you ladies are going to a ball?" He said lamely.

Navia put her hands on her hips.  "Oh come on,  is that the best you can do? I know you're quite popular with the ladies, surely you can do better?"

He grimaced. "Miss Navia, as much as I'd love to keep entertaining you, I do unfortunately have things to attend to."

"Oh,  alright… Well, before you go,  have you gotten a chance to read my letter? I've been very eager to have a proper meeting with you!"

He sighed and forced a polite smile.  This again? Is there something else going on?  "Apologies, Miss Navia,  I haven't, but—"

She slapped a letter onto his chest. "There you go!  Now we both know it has made it into your capable hands!" She grinned brightly at him, though also didn't move her hand off his chest, which happened to be resting right over his pectoral muscle. 

He took the letter and gently moved her hand away. "Thank you,  Miss Navia."

"Of course! I look forward to your speedy response!" 

He sighed and stepped away. "Well, you ladies have a great evening."

"We will! You as well, Your Grace!" 

Wriothesley risked a glance at Clorinde, but she wasn't looking his way.  

He lingered for just a beat to see if she'd at least look at him, but she didn't budge, so he left down the street before it got awkward. 

He picked up the few items he needed from the market, and on his way back he took his chances and went down the same street he'd seen Clorinde on, just to see if she was still there. 

He was a bit disappointed that she wasn't there, but figured it wasn't likely since a good amount of time passed.  He turned to leave when something blue in a nearby bin caught his eye. 

He peered into it. 

It was a mint flower. 

She threw it away?... 

It could be a coincidence, and it was just a random mint, and not the one he gave her because it was starting to wilt. But it has been a few hours, and any plant would wilt by this point without water. He carefully took it out of the bin. His throat was starting to burn.

This relationship of theirs shouldn't be as difficult as it was turning out to be. 

Maybe he was reading too much into this. Many people considered mint a weed. Throwing it out was very in line with her personality. But at the same time… she used to give him such plants as gifts when they were younger… 

He twirled the wilted flower between his fingers with a sigh.  

Maybe I'm smothering her a bit. It definitely wasn't intentional. He could step back a bit and let her breathe. She just reunited with the woman that might as well have been her sister after all. 

Nurturing that relationship was more important for her than anything he could offer her… 

She knew where to find him. He didn't mind waiting around until she was ready or until she needed him… 

And when she did he'd be sure to put all grievances aside and welcome her with the hug he's been longing to give her. He'd ask her about her day, and ask how her friendship with Navia was coming along.

If she happened to ask how he's been, he'll tell her he's been alright. He'd probably say there wasn't much going on, because he'd rather hear her rant about work than weigh her down with his own woes. And if he was lucky she wouldn't notice how deeply he's missed her.

He'd tell her to make herself at home, ask her if she was hungry, or maybe get her something sweet to eat. 

And perhaps a cup of tea as well. 

Chapter Text

It had been a very long time since Clorinde went to Poisson. She visited a few times as a little girl, but ever since she started working in the city she hadn't been. Callas's death was a big factor as well. As the one that took his life, it was understandable that everyone in Poisson detested her. 

Navia's enthusiasm seemed to change that, for the most part at least. There were a few people that gave her odd looks, but she was used to that. What mattered most, was that Navia seemed eager to show her around. Her hospitality spread to the residents, and made for an overall pleasant afternoon. 

"Coffee or tea?" Navia called over her shoulder. 

Clorinde looked up from the book she'd brought with her towards the direction Navia's voice came. "Tea."

"Ok! Anything specific?"

"Any black tea will do."

"Got it! "

A few moments later Navia skipped into the room with a tray of tea and macaroons. "Here you go!"

Clorinde accepted the tea and sweets and set her book aside. "Thank you for showing me around today, Navia."

"Of course, thank you for letting me drag you about!" She said as she sat across from her. "Do you have any plans for the weekend?"

"No not at the moment, did you want to do something?"

"Well~ I was actually wondering if I could set you up on a date!"

Clorinde almost dropped her cup.  "W-Wha? A date?  With who?"

Navia looked around and leaned forward across the table.  "Silver," she whispered. 

"Uh… why?"

"Because I am ninety nine percent sure he likes you! And I think you two will be very cute together."

Clorinde bit her lip and shook her head.  "I uh– he doesn't even know me… I mean he's nice, but isn't that his job? To be nice?"

Navia waved her off. "Oh please, dating is how you figure out if you're compatible! It's how you get to know one another! And his job is to make the public think I'm defenseless!  I'm joking of course, but in all honesty,  I really think it would be good for you."

Clorinde fussed absently with her napkin. "Navia… I haven't even seen his face properly, I don't know if—"

"I'll make him take the shades off when we finish the tea.  He's so silly about them, but he wears them so much because he thinks they make him look cool– plus he's shy– but don't tell him I told you!"

It didn't seem like she was getting the hint…

"I don't think he's my type Navia…"

"Hm? Well what is your type? You know that's a great question! Because Silver is strong,  responsible,  he's good at fighting, he's polite, punctual, and quite handsome. What's there to miss?"

"Uh… well… I'm not looking right now,  Navia, I appreciate it, but I don't want to give the man false hope, he's kind, and deserves someone better."

"Clorinde,  surely you don't intend to be alone forever!"

"Well… I really don't know. I don't want to, but I honestly can't see any other possibility… I'm not exactly the best person," Clorinde admitted with a frown.  

"Nobody is perfect, Clorinde, but alright, I'll relent for now, but please think about it, who knows? You might find you really get along."

Clorinde sighed heavily. "Well… maybe I could be a decent friend, but like I said, I just don't think he's my type."

Navia narrowed her eyes. "Hmmm, thank you for reminding me,  what is your type? I know lots of people, if not Silver— which again I think you two will look very cute together— then who? What kind of man did teenage Clorinde dream of?"

Clorinde bit her lip. "I didn't uh… I didn't need to dream of a man,  Navia…" she whispered.  

Her eyes widened and she slowly put her cup down.  "Oh… right…"

The atmosphere got a bit too heavy for Clorinde's liking, and she desperately tried to think of a different topic to bring up. 

"Well uh… that was so long ago, and now I just work so much and uh—"

"Clorinde, are you still hanging on to him?" Navia asked softly.

"N‐No!" She said a bit too loudly. 

"Clorinde…"

"I'm not,  Navia, really."

Navia reached over and gently placed her hand over hers.  "Did you want to visit him? We're close, you know."

She shook her head. "No, no,  that's not necessary, Navia."

"Clorinde…your eyes, they are red." 

She frowned and pulled her hand away. "I'm fine, Navia…" she blinked rapidly so she could force the tears forming away. 

What is wrong with me? There is no reason for me to cry! 

Navia smiled gently.  "Clorinde,  it's okay. Sometimes,  I cry for my mother, and I never even met her, so there's no shame in crying for your lost love."

"But that's—"

"No, no buts. We should visit him, it's been a long time, hasn't it?"

Clorinde tried so hard to find her voice, but she couldn't for some reason.  She was embarrassed to be feeling so weak. She was embarrassed that she was so close to crying at all!  And she was ashamed and confused that she was feeling like this over someone that turned out to not be dead in the first place. 

"Navia…" he's not dead. Is what she tried to say, but she couldn't get the words out. 

"You never visited him after the funeral, did you?" She asked gently. 

"N-No…"

"Well come on then, I think it's about time you did."

.

.

The small hike to the hill where his tree was felt like one of the hardest things she's had to do in a very long time.  

It was on a small hill not too far away from the Poisson cemetery. She chose it because it overlooked the city. It was close to home, but it was far enough away that she thought he'd appreciate the freedom and fresh air. 

Navia beat her to the top, and waited patiently for her to catch up.  

Seeing the tree again brought tears to her eyes. She'd planted a bunch of wild flowers around the tree that looked to be thriving, but what got to her the most was the engraving she'd carved into the tree.  It was his name, along with a short declaration of her love, but much of it had faded to a point of being unreadable. The only part that completely faded away was his name. 

It was strangely symbolic. 

"It's okay to cry,  Clorinde," Navia whispered.

She shook her head. It wasn't fair to Navia, or the countless amounts of people that actually lost someone.  Yes she may have spent fifteen years missing and mourning him, but now?  

She carefully knelt in front of the tree and placed her hand over the faded engraving. 

.

.

Oh Navia, I don't think I'll ever love again,  why didn't I let him go sooner? Why does it still hurt, even after all this time? 

Navia had placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  He was your first love, Clorinde, they always say the first to hold your heart breaks it the worst… but you're strong. I know you'll pull through. 

She'd hugged the scarf he gave her as if it was the boy himself.  I-I don't know if I want to,  Navia… I don't know if I can…

You can, Clorinde. If I know anything about you, it's that I know you ain't no quitter, and you've got a lot more fight in you than you realize. 

Clorinde had somehow found the strength then to stand up, and grab the shovel they'd brought along. She dug until sundown, insisted on doing it alone. She buried her journal down deep in the ground along with the scarf he'd given her that one fall evening he'd declared his love for her by that new tea shop they'd just left after splitting a small piece of cake.

And right beside those two things, she'd also buried her heart and vowed to never love again… 

.

.

She'd been crying her heart out when she carved this into the tree. She couldn't remember at the time if she'd ever cried so hard before.

Finally accepting the fact that he was dead,  not having a body to actually bury. It was one of the hardest things she's had to do. 

That pain was resurfacing. 

"Navia… I-I think something is wrong with me," she whispered over the fire in her throat. 

She knelt beside her and put her hand on her shoulder, much like she did back then. 

"Of course there isn't, stop being so hard on yourself. You loved this boy, you gave him your heart and soul,  it's normal to be so devastated. When people like this leave our lives, they take a piece of us with them. Going on without them is always tough. It feels impossible, but it's something we must do."

Oh she was so ashamed. It was so unfair to poor Navia. She had to come clean. If she found out from someone else, then that would probably destroy their newly built friendship. 

"Navia… he's n-not dead," she whispered. 

"Oh Clorinde…" Navia threw her arms around her in a tight hug. 

She wanted to go into detail, tell her that he really was alive, and that she wasn't just in denial, but as soon as she hugged her she choked up, and the tears finally spilled out. 

She couldn't find her voice. 

Gods, she really was a horrible person. She hated herself.  Each tear burned. She burned with guilt and shame, and with a strange kind of pain that she didn't know how to explain, but it felt a lot like heartache. 

She sat there until she had no more tears , and the shame and guilt was threatening to drown her. 

"Come on,  let's go back," Navia said and kindly walked with her down the hill, and stopped at the crossroad to Poisson.  

"If you'd like to go home now, that's fine, I'm going to stay here for a while.  I'd like to visit Father while I'm here," Navia said. "The cemetery is just around the corner. I'd be remiss not to see him too."

Her heart sank further than it already was. "May I come with you?"

Navia closed her eyes for a beat and took a deep breath.  A soft wind blew around them,  carrying with it the faint smell of fresh food up from Poisson.

It reminded Clorinde of her youth. Of the times she would hang out with Navia and play all sorts of games while her father made dinner in the other room.  

"Yes,  I'd like for you to come,  Clorinde, and I also believe Father will be happy to see you."

Clorinde sighed softly in relief and followed her to the cemetery.  

She stood by Navia's side in silence while the wind blew around them, and she pressed her hands together in prayer.

She didn't really know what to say. She didn't ask for forgiveness, because she didn't think it was her place, but she did express her gratitude for being able to stand here today by Navia's side. 

Perhaps it was Callas's spirit that helped guide them back to friendship? 

"Thank you for coming with me," Navia said as they walked away from the cemetery. "I think I really needed this… to see you there, my Father cared about you,  he always considered you a part of the family."

"Thank you for letting me," Clorinde said. 

Navia smiled and dabbed at her eyes.  "You know,  recently, I read a book regarding honor among warriors in old lands… It detailed how the most prideful and honorable would rather fall by the hand of their brother in arms, or their own hand, rather than let the enemy take their life. 

"I like to think my father had an old warrior spirit. That's why he didn't surrender, that's why he wanted it to be you. Because the enemy was out to get him, and he'd rather lay his life before his brother in arms…" 

Navia looked up at her with tears in her crystal blue eyes.  "Do you think… He was brave, Clorinde?"

"He was the bravest and strongest I've ever faced," Clorinde whispered. Her own eyes were tearing up again, and she fought like hell to keep them at bay. 

Navia smiled and nodded slowly. "I'm sure he'd be honored… to be known as such," she reached forward and grabbed her hand.  "Thank you, Clorinde…"

"There's nothing to thank me for," she said and squeezed her hand back.  

She wanted to give her a hug, but she wasn't sure if she'd be overstepping by doing so. So she just held onto her hand as tight as she could. 

"He'd be very proud of you,  Navia. Poisson is doing wonderfully, and the Spina is thriving.  You cleared his name better than any lawyer could, you're amazing."

She laughed softly and let her hand go so she could wipe her face.  "You really think so?"

"Of course."

She took a deep breath and fanned her face.  "Well!  I should get back now. I can't exactly be crying my eyes out,  else Meluse and Silver will worry. Next week, instead of tea,  do you want to go to the chocolate shop that opened a few weeks ago?  I hear they serve milkshakes!"

Clorinde nodded. "Sure. It'll be on me this time though."

She smiled. "Oh alright, if you insist."

Clorinde was just about to bid her farewell when an incredibly loud sound echoed up from the basin Poisson sat in. 

It was quickly followed by a rumble that shook the ground so violently that it knocked both of them off their feet.  

"What in the world?!" Navia gasped. 

Clorinde helped her up and followed her as she ran back to town. 

Water was pouring in from cracks in the walls. As soon as Clorinde saw the way the water glimmered in the light her heart nearly stopped. 

"Navia!  We need to help them,  that water will dissolve everyone!" She yelled and ran ahead. "I'm going to do what I can to help!" She called over her shoulder and sprinted down as fast as she could. 

"Clorinde, wait!"

Things were happening much too quickly, so she jumped over a railing to get there quicker. 

Clorinde let her elemental energy envelope her body and used the gained speed to rush forward and scoop up a little girl that was near the bottom of the cavern. As soon as she had her in her arms she jumped up onto a roof and set her down. 

"Stay here!" She yelled and rushed off to help more people. 

She could carry about four children at a time,  but only one to two adults. People were also starting to panic. The screams echoed through the basin, and in their desperation to escape, the people started to trample those that fell. 

It was horrible. 

Clorinde was momentarily frozen in horror as she watched a group of adults shove past a group of young people, only to cause everyone to trip, and they all fell onto a thin bridge that suddenly collapsed… 

Before she could even tell herself to move, the whole group went plummeting into the fluorescent water below… 

"Help me!"

Clorinde shook herself out of it and ran towards the newest cry for help. An older woman that was hanging onto a ledge. 

She quickly helped the woman back on solid ground and handed her off to a Spina member to take to safety while she jumped lower towards the rushing water to try and save more people. 

From the corner of her eye she saw Meluse and Silver running with children in their arms, and she rushed over to help. 

"Take the children,  Mademoiselle! Don't worry about us!" Meluse yelled. 

"Yes,  please take them to safety first!" Silver insisted and quickly handed her the three kids. 

As soon as Clorinde had them in her arms another crack burst open on the mountain behind them,  pouring more Primordial water towards them. 

"Go, hurry! "

"I'll come back for you!  Keep moving to high ground!"  Clorinde yelled and ran as fast as she could while making sure the kids remained secured. They were all screaming in pain from being held too tight and of fear and confusion, but she pushed on. 

She all but tossed them on top of a roof where a few others were and flew back down to where Navia's attendants were. 

They were hanging onto a ledge, both holding a child in their arms. Silver even had a tiny gray cat by the scruff of its neck. 

"Mademoiselle, please take these kids too! We'll be fine!" Meluse said. 

Clorinde fell to her knees by the ledge and reached out to allow them to pass her the kids.  They were terrified, but thankfully cooperated enough to allow her to pull them up. 

"Don't forget this little one!" Silver said, and shoved the small cat in her hand. "Go!"

"You two better not die!" Clorinde said, and hurriedly scooped up the kids and took them to safety. 

She turned around so fast in her haste to get back to them that she twisted her ankle, but she pushed on. 

She pushed on as fast as she could. Her lungs burned, and her feet were on fire, but she had to make it. She had to.  They were Navia's only remaining family!  She had to save them!

I need to save them! 

Clorinde skid to a halt as she finally made it back to where they were. She got there just in time. Just in time  to see a wave of water sweep them away. No! 

No, no, no!

Navia's shriek was heard throughout the whole basin.

"No!!!"

Chapter Text

As soon as he heard the news Wriothesley rushed to the surface in search of Clorinde. He heard that the center of the damage was in Poisson, and he knew that she had been spending time with Navia.

The likelihood of her being there when the town flooded was much higher than he liked. 

He had to know if she was okay.  

She wasn't at her house, nor was she in her office. That just made his nerves spike. At his wits end, he went straight to Poisson. He didn't want to waste any more time. 

The scene was devastating. 

Buildings were in disarray. People were crying and many were nursing injuries. 

The most eerie thing was people were laying out soaked clothes on the ground using sticks to move them in place so as not to come in direct contact with them. 

An innocent little girl's question was explanation enough.  

"Why is maman's dress on the ground? Where did she go?"

His heart dropped. Oh no… 

He didn't even want to think about what that meant, but even as he continued his search, the truth rang out in the back of his mind. 

People had been dissolved. 

Clorinde... 

He had to find her. 

After what felt like forever, he finally saw a familiar figure in the distance. The feather on her hat a beacon in the dark basin. 

Thank the gods… 

He hurried over to her but stopped in his tracks when he saw Navia by her side. She was comforting the poor woman. He could only imagine what she was going through.

As much as he wanted to go over to her,  he didn't.  He didn't want to interrupt, and he knew it would look suspicious that he personally came all the way here for no reason. He did have a reason though. 

His reason was Clorinde… 

And she was okay, he could rest easy. He didn't have to inject himself in a place that had no space for him. 

Wriothesley took a deep breath and silently left the area, but he wasn't going to just walk away. There were many people that needed help, and while he knew Furina must be sending aid, as soon as he returned to the Fortress he sent a group of his own people. 

He sent food and medical supplies as well as instructions to make sure children were given priority to the resources specifically sent by the Fortress. 

With that taken care of,  he did the only thing he could do.  Get back to work. The Fortress was unaffected, and so production carried on as normal. 

He didn't see Clorinde until a few days later. She was with a group of garde members in the Palais Mermonia. He was on his way out of a meeting with Lady Furina. She had invited him for tea, and asked if he could assist in repair and supplies efforts in Poisson. He learned then that other areas below sea level were affected as well, but Poisson was the epicenter of the damage. 

He didn't mention that he did so already, and agreed to send–more– aid and provide extra gardemeks to guard the depots where supplies were being stored. Apparently people were breaking in and stealing out of desperation, and many were reselling the stolen goods at exorbitant prices. 

A sin that he personally vowed to make them pay for when they inevitably were sent to Meropide. 

"Clorinde, how are you?... " he asked as he walked over.

She smiled when she saw him and stepped over to him.  "Good Afternoon, Your Grace," she sighed and her lovely smile fell. "Things are very… chaotic."

He frowned and reached for her, but he caught himself right before and awkwardly fussed with his tie instead. 

"Is there anything I can do?" He asked. 

"I'm not sure," she crossed her arms. "I'm up to my neck in work, and I'm not sure if I can keep—" she bit her lip and sighed. "You've got your own things to worry about,  I'll be alright."

His frown deepened. She looked exhausted. The shadows beneath her eyes were so dark, and her face looked paler than it should be. 

"Are you sure, sweetheart? If you need a break, I can pull some strings to get you free time," he did it again, and winced internally when he noticed he'd slipped again with her co-workers just a few steps behind her. 

Thankfully, Clorinde herself didn't seem to catch the transgression this time, but that didn't take away the guilt.

Just put a little effort in, idiot. It's not that hard.  He thought for the nth time. 

A tiny smirk pulled at her lips.  "You can do that?"

He smiled back. "You'll be surprised what I can do..."

She shook her head.  "No it's okay, the people need all the help they can get, I can't just back out because I'm tired."

"Well... The Fortress is always open to you…" He murmured and stepped away before people started to get suspicious. He didn't want to, but he also didn't want to give Clorinde unneeded stress. 

He left before she could respond, but she didn't need to. He knew she heard him.  

And he knew sooner or later, she'd take the invitation. 

Wriothesley almost missed the soft knock on his door. He was in the middle of choosing a record to put on the gramophone when he heard it.  

It was late. Typically he had visitation hours, but he temporarily relaxed those rules due to the Beret Society issue.  Even though it has been over for some time, he let those involved know that they'd be able to speak with him in his office over issues or needs until further notice.

"Come on in," he called out and went back to browsing his records. His collection was relatively small, but that was because this technology was very new, and very expensive. 

He tried to be very conscious of the mora he spent on himself, and only allowed himself to spend a certain amount a month.  Most of those funds went to his tea collection.  But on occasion, he managed to abstain just enough to afford a new record. 

He heard his door open and he turned around to greet his guest. 

"Good evening,  it's very late,  how can I—" He turned around and his heart jumped. "Clorinde?" He looked over her quickly just to make sure she was okay. It'd been a long time since he's seen her, and he wanted to make sure she was doing alright.

"Is everything alright—" he bit his tongue and cleared his throat. "Is something wrong?"

She smiled, soft and weary. "I'm alright… I just realized it's been awhile since I've seen you, and I wanted to say hello."

He smiled back.  "Hello…"

"You're not too busy, are you?"

"I'm never too busy for you…"

Clorinde hid her face behind her fringe and climbed the stairs. She took her shoes off when she got to the top, and left them at the edge of the steps.  

"Um… how are you?" She asked as she moved to sit on his couch. 

"I'm alright, thankfully things have been pretty uneventful," he said and finally settled on which record to put on and sat back at his desk.

It was one of his favorite lounge records. He often put it on when he stayed up late doing paperwork.

"I heard about what happened in Poisson," he sighed.  "Is Navia doing alright?"

She shook her head slowly.  "She lost Meluse and Silver…" she hugged her knees to her chest. "Everything  happened so fast. I tried to save them, but each time I went to them they had children they wanted me to save first. I had two chances, Wriothesley, and on the third... I wasn't fast enough…" 

"I'm so sorry…" he frowned and tightened his grip on the pen in his hand.  He wasn't sure what he should do.  He wanted to hug her, but lately,  he was questioning such things. 

Would doing so help her? Or would he just be feeding his own greed?

"I can't sleep…" she whispered. "I keep seeing their faces… I was so close to rescuing them…" 

"It's not your fault, Clorinde, you can't blame yourself for—"

"It is, Wriothesley!" She snapped suddenly.  "What good are my accomplishments if I can't even save a life??"