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The day Navia's father died, it was raining.
She was running in her frilly yellow skirt, in her soaked heels, on the slippery ground without a single worry of falling. Holding her skirt with both hands, lifting it, she was somehow trying to make her movements easier. She didn't care about the mud splattered on her yellow skirt or her shoes which were already soaked in mud.
She was coming from The Chief Justice, Monsieur Neuvillette. She had already spoken to him about her father and learned he could not be saved. The only person she trusted, her only hope, had slipped away. So she was running to catch up, to take matters into her own hands before it was too late. To the Duel field, the field where her father was now fighting for his life.
Even though the misty atmosphere brought on by the rain limited her vision, she could see the dark blue haired woman coming from across the street with very slow steps, in contrast to her panicked and hurried steps. Every time her high heels hit the ground, they made a sound like the ticking of a clock, as if trying to tell Navia it was too late.
"Clorinde!"
Navia quickened her pace like never before, a speed not expected of her. But then the blood-soaked sword held by the dark blue haired woman entered her vision. Even the pouring rain hadn't been enough to wash the innocent man's blood off the blade. Probably all the clouds in the world would not have been enough to wash away the unjustly spilled blood of an innocent person, even the biggest storms would have come and gone.
Navia's steps slowed and finally stopped completely.
"Demoiselle, your umbrella!"
Navia spread her right arm out to the side, stopping the two men in suits running after her with this simple gesture. "I don't want it."
Then she walked up to Clorinde, who was already a few steps ahead of her, and stopped when they were only three steps apart. She raised her head and looked into the cold violet eyes that looked at her without emotion, completely devoid of guilt. They were colder than the weather, colder than the rain. Still, Navia asked. "You didn't do it, right, Clorinde?"
Clorinde just bowed her head, raindrops running through her wet hair and down her cheeks. They looked like tears. If Navia hadn't just seen her cold eyes, she might have thought she was really crying. Navia was the one who should be crying right now.
"Please tell me." Navia did what she would never do in her life, what she was too prideful to do; she begged. "Tell me this is not my father's blood. Tell me you didn't take his life."
Clorinde remained silent again. Navia realized what the silence meant, that the blood, now long since lost its luster and slipping away in the rain, belonged to her father. She already knew what it meant, but she wanted to convince herself otherwise.
Blood dripped from the sword to the ground, where the rain washed some of it away, but left behind a brown stain that even the pressure of the rain could not wash away.
Navia thoughtー Clorinde's hands which had once held her hands while playing when they were both children, must now be dirtier than this sword, dirtier than this blood-stained ground. These hands that had already taken countless lives had now taken the life of her father. How many others had she killed? How many poor people, just like her father, never had the chance to prove themselves innocent?
Navia felt tears welling up in her eyes, but they were quickly washed away by the rain falling on her face.
"Answer me, Clorinde." She took a step forward, raising her right hand. "Answer me!"
The sound of Navia's small palm meeting Clorinde's cheek echoed loudly against the peaceful sound of the rain, eliciting a gasp of surprise from the two men watching behind her.
Clorinde's tongue ran over her busted lip, the blood from it washed away by the rain, like the blood of Navia's father. Anyone who saw her like this would never guess that she was a respected citizen of Fontaine.
Clorinde gripped the sword a little tighter, never touching her cheek, which was already flushed and scarred by Navia's fingers. It must be stinging, Navia was sure, because her own palm ached a lot. Clorinde never said a word about the pain, though, she only spoke with her head turned to the side. "It was a duel."
Navia felt her world crashing down around her. Was the death of her beloved father so insignificant? It was a duel? These were not the only words that could summarize the death of her father. There must be an explanationー anything!
"A duel?" Navia repeated through her teeth. "You think it was just a duel? You killed my father, and have the nerve to say it was a duel?"
"It was my duty."
"Duty? How can youー how dare youー!"
With Navia's hand in the air once more, Clorinde clearly flinched, her eyes closed tightly, her shoulders heaving. But she did nothing to protect herself from a second slap.
Even though the woman in front of her, her dearest friend, had killed her father, who was the other dearest person in her life, Navia couldn't bear to slap her again. She couldn't bear to look any longer at her expression, clearly frightened but too prideful to run away and couldn't bear to look at the blood dripping from the busted lip she had caused. So she turned her head away.
"I don't want to see your face again," she said confidently as she walked past her. She ignored the two men who followed her every step, and with quick steps she left Clorinde who was as hurt as she was, alone in the rain with the sword that carried her father's blood.