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After Dahlia had asked for a separate carriage for her and Aaron on the way back from the Royal Capital, Cyrus had simply assumed they’d never see each other again. It was simply befitting of Dahlia to be whimsical like that, and disappear without a second notice. She supposed she couldn’t complain, and they didn’t even leave on a bad note or anything, since there were no bitter goodbyes to be had, or really, any goodbyes at all. And she supposed it was only natural that Aaron followed. She wasn’t an idiot. The way Aaron looked at Dahlia was just like the way she herself looked at her, but really, between the two of them, he had always had the better chance. Really, it was fine, and Cyrus dealt with it well. Upon getting home, she simply cut her hair as a sign of the changing tides of her life, and moved on.
What she didn’t expect was to stumble upon Dahlia again, not in Sierce, not in one of her family’s old military-post-turned-inns, for sure. She hadn’t changed much, of course, it was just a few months, which barely even felt like it when it felt like Cyrus had come to terms with their separation yesterday. And “stumble upon” was a stretch, as Dahlia had entered the inn and immediately made a beeline for Cyrus before she could even recognize who that angry face was in the big fur coat.
“What are you doing here, Olive?!” Dahlia asked, her hand banging on the table. If no one was looking at them before, they were paying attention now. And most of all, Cyrus was paying attention to her. Despite the big fur coat, she could see a bit of the leather corset peeking out as Dahlia leaned forward. Her pretty face was stuck in a way too familiar scowl, tinted with a faint blush due to the cold that looked as if drawn on with a paintbrush to make her face more striking, with a halo of wild hair sprinkled with snow for contrast.
And Cyrus decided that she definitely wasn’t drunk enough yet to deal with this. Everyone was staring, and the last thing she wanted them to know was that the Duke herself was right there in the middle of the inn. She needed an out.
“Ah… No one told me i was banned from Sierce.” She replied, dripping with sarcasm. “My apologies, i’ll leave now, then.”
Dahlia’s face went from scowling to bewildered as Cyrus got up and tried to make her way out of the tavern. And she tried to do it quickly, too, hoping that huge fur coat would hinder Dahlia just enough so that…
Well, so much for that. She was blocked right outside, and though Dahlia was small, Cyrus knew she was a force to be reckoned with. Between the blizzard outside and Dahlia’s seeming burning determination, there was a tough choice to be made.
But unlike Dahlia’s Siercean resistance, Cyrus was not nearly as good at dealing with the extreme cold. And it was due to her choice to not die of frostbite just because she couldn’t face the woman who broke her heart that she simply sighed, turned around and asked for a more private, secluded room at the inn, even if that blew her cover entirely.
And she also made a point to pull off her snow-soaked cloak in a single tug, then throw herself on a chair in the most undignified fashion possible. Dahlia had seen her at much worse positions, actually, so making a point of showing just how much it was killing her to be alone with Dahlia again wasn’t even close to how pathetic she had been near Dahlia.
Dahlia, meanwhile, hadn’t said even a single word yet, in contrast to how much she was dancing inside Cyrus’ head with her mere presence. She was just tapping her foot impatiently on the floor, still wearing that heavy coat despite the fireplace being on, now. There was a bit of light blue fabric poking out from under it, bobbing up and down with her rapid movements. Not that Cyrus wanted to know what it was, of course.
“Well?” Dahlia put her hands on her hips.
“...Well?” Cyrus replied, just puzzled at this point. Yes, Dahlia was often a reckless person with an impulsive attitude, but surely she had a plan other than just staring at Cyrus really hard after accosting her after months of absence?
“Well, if you wanted to talk to me, here i am!” Dahlia pointed out, growing even more impatient.
“...Huh?” Cyrus could only stare at the woman. Yeah, now she was confused.
Dahlia’s bravado died just a little. She seemed to reconsider her position, and spoke a little softer, now, though still keeping a stern face.
“You’ve been hanging around Sierce an awful lot lately, Olive.” She said, crossing her arms, then. “In fact, you come here every other week or so. Am i wrong?”
“No?” Cyrus replied, still absolutely puzzled on how this amounted to what seemed to be another one of her missteps with Dahlia. Which, she really hoped that at least after their separation, would stop happening with so much frequency, as she would no longer have the chance to ruin things again.
She wasn’t surprised Dahlia knew about what she had been up to, of course. The whole base of operations of Fort Hawke started near Sierce, if she recalled, so of course she was counting with the possibility she’d be seen. It was Dahlia, though, so there was no danger, and thus, no issue. Or so Cyrus foolishly assumed, it seemed.
“Well, and what, pray tell, have you been doing around here?” Dahlia pressed on.
Cyrus finally understood where she was getting at, but turns out Dahlia was pressing a button that didn’t even exist. She almost wanted to laugh.
“Well, most people here don’t recognize their Duke at first glance. And if they do, they’re polite enough to not point it out. Don’t you think it’s just the perfect place to drink my face off without being bothered much?” Cyrus explained, with a small smirk, at what, she didn’t know yet, exactly.
Dahlia seemed to completely lose her composure, then. With her hands falling a bit limply, she looked at Cyrus and then around then, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“So, you haven’t… Been coming here to try and find me?” Dahlia tried for the last time, making Cyrus scoff.
“You didn't even bother to say goodbye. I assumed you didn’t want to be found, Dahlia.” Cyrus said, not caring if the hurt showed in her voice. She had been more pathetic before, after all.
A long silence stretched between them.
“And hearing about me getting drunk at Sierce repeatedly for several weeks, was the thing that made you come here looking for my head?” Cyrus smirked weakly, again. “It’s almost like you care about my well-being.”
Maybe that was a little dramatic, but just as well, if Dahlia could disappear on a whim without giving her even a brief goodbye, it was very much as if she didn’t care. Despite their professed friendship and despite Cyrus’ truly pathetic confession at the night of that sham wedding.
“...I only heard about that today, so i… I got a little upset.” Dahlia said, understating the stormy state in which she had come for Cyrus. “I needed some explanations, so…”
“You needed some explanations?” Cyrus merely arched an eyebrow.
Another long silence, and then Dahlia finally seemed to get warm enough to shrug off that fur coat. Slowly, of course, so that leather corset showed up first, then revealed itself to be tied and woven with beautiful light green and blue fabrics that instead of following the poofy silhouette of the fashionable gowns popular in the Royal Capital and by extension the whole Kingdom, hugged Dahlia’s form like an exquisite, silky and very much risqué nightgown. The corset itself had lovely gold accents that perfectly matched the jewelry around Dahlia’s arms and neck, too. The only thing not matching with anything were her riding boots. Had she come here riding alone? It was very much like her.
Cyrus would compliment her, if the praise hadn’t stuck on her throat like shards of broken glass. All she could do was stare.
“That’s… Fancy.” She managed to blurt out.
Dahlia shot her a wry smile, which seemed to only tell her “I know what you’re really thinking, filthy woman.” It made her turn her head away, as if the red curtains on the other side of the room were much more interesting.
“A bit bothersome to ride with.” Dahlia replied. making Cyrus simply nod in agreement. “But i didn’t really have time to change.”
She let that hang in the air for a while, as if hoping that Cyrus would take the bait and ask about why she didn't have the time to change. Cyrus didn’t. Truth be told, she didn’t want to know, or rather, she could connect the dots, and didn’t want to have it confirmed out loud.
“I, um, i was about to get married.” Dahlia finally concluded, clearly struggling to present is a matter of fact.
“That’s nice. I’m happy for you.” Cyrus replied, clearly struggling to say it in the most neutral way possible. Her excuse was that anything with more emotion and she’d fly off the handle.
Dahlia stepped closer, as if sniffing her lie.
“I thought you’d be hanging around here to try and stop it.” Dahlia admitted, then, what had gotten her to come find Cyrus in such a hurry in at the day of her own wedding.
Cyrus’ face went from as if a lamp had lit up right above her head to confusion, then to a tentative, slight smile.
“Did you hope i’d try and stop it?” Just as those words rolled out of Cyrus’ mouth, Dahlia blanched. Ah… She understood it all now. And yet, Cyrus couldn’t smile anymore upon confirming it, for some reason. Rather, it was her turn to frown. “Dahlia, does your fiancé know where you are right now?”
Dahlia shook her head, never before having been so meek. She could fool someone idiot into thinking she was always like this, maybe.
“The ceremony isn’t until much later… I just… Skipped out on some of the preparations…” Dahlia trailed off trying to explain herself.
“That’s very much like you.” Cyrus couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped her lips, then. “Well, now you know i’m not trying to… Get between you and your wedding. Will you go back?”
Phrasing it as a question was very much intentional. It was almost like the ultimate test for Dahlia, and whether or not she’d lean into her habit to run away again. Because as much as Cyrus was falling into her old bad habits, she could see Dahlia slipping just as much as her. Maybe that would mean that they could meet somewhere along that fall.
“Dahlia?” Cyrus prodded once more, given Dahlia’s silence.
It was a risky thing to bet on. Maybe Dahlia was just hesitating, but would ultimately commit-
And then, she simply sat down on a chair right across from Cyrus, looking quite defeated.
“I thought it’d be the right thing to do.” Dahlia started. “I thought it could make both of us happy. But… There’s so much more he needs to take care of now. I feel like i’m just marrying another politician.”
“Is that the only reason you’re about to give up on that wedding?” Cyrus seemed to find it a bit funny, but she avoided laughing. Was Dahlia just that averse to the spotlight, when she had such a strong presence?
“...Well, i also kissed him for the first time a few days ago.” Dahlia’s statement caught Cyrus a bit off guard. Of course, if they were marrying for love, they’d have kissed. She would just rather be unaware about it.
And then Dahlia suddenly got up and leaned in close to Cyrus. A little too close.
“Olive, do you remember our kiss at the wedding?” Dahlia asked, her eyes looking like black holes about to eat Cyrus’ soul.
“Yes.” Cyrus replied, feeling goosebumps just from their proximity. It was a bit embarrassing, how so little got her excited as if on a hair-trigger.
Their “kiss” had been a chaste thing, touching lips to seal the contract that would end up saving Cyrus’ life when no one could know her secret.
“Give me another one.” Dahlia wasn’t asking. “I need to test something, before i do something i’ll really regret.”
She didn’t really need to say anything anymore. As she leaned over the chair, just one knee between Cyrus’ legs to support herself, her hands already traveling up her shoulders, it was too easy to give in.
But it wasn’t at all like their wedding kiss. Pushed over the edge, Cyrus reacted like one of those poor starving snakes at circus shows. Strong arms wrapped around Dahlia’s waist, gluing their bodies together as she opened her mouth to truly give Dahlia a kiss she wouldn’t regret, not wanting to miss the opportunity. The biggest surprise, though, was that there was a response. A coy touch of a tongue on hers, as if to confirm that all of that hunger wasn’t only on her side. And then it all went downhill from there. Arms wrapped around her neck and it was hard to stop, even to breathe.
They did, however, pull away eventually, and to Cyrus’ surprise, Dahlia was the one crumpling like paper on top of her, rather than the absolute emotional obliteration she was expecting to fall on her head.
“Dahlia?” Cyrus called out, concerned about the faint sobbing coming from Dahlia.
“I knew it. Damn it, i knew it…” Dahlia cursed under her breath. “It’s just… Not the same.”
Though Cyrus ran her hand over Dahlia’s head as if to comfort her, she wasn’t sure whether to be delighted or offended by the reaction. They sat there for a minute more, before Dahlia slowly got up. Wordlessly, she picked up her coat and put it over her dress again.
“You’re… Leaving.” Cyrus said, as if to make sure she was assuming correctly. As if she needed confirmation.
“I have to.” Dahlia said, frowning at her. She looked a bit disheveled now, almost frantic. “I made a promise, Olive.”
The bitter smile in Cyrus’ face said it all, but she couldn’t hold back the venomous remark that escaped her mouth.
“Right. You never break promises, do you?” She laughed, sounding poisoned.
Dahlia seemed to freeze for an instant, as if unsure of what to do. But it was clear that nothing could get her to stay, and so, it didn’t really matter if she hesitated, or if she looked as scared as a cornered bunny right now.
“Go, have fun at your wedding.” Cyrus sighed, falling back on the chair. “I won’t stop you.”
“Really?” Dahlia asked, hopeful. “You don’t…”
“Just don’t come back again.” Cyrus cut her off abruptly, barely even caring if it made Dahlia step back slightly. “Don’t look for me. Is that clear, Dahlia?”
Something in her hoped that Dahlia would still turn around and give up on that stupid idea, that they could continue from where they left off, despite all the hurt feelings. But, sighing sadly, Dahlia simply turned around, with a weak “take care” before closing the door behind her. Just as well, as she quickly got away fast enough to not hear the sound of glass breaking inside the room.
When a few weeks had passed and the cut on Cyrus’ left hand caused by the broken cup had almost healed, despite her harsh words, they ended up meeting again. It was also no coincidence. Rather, there had been some issue between Fort Hawke and the merchants at the gates of Leto, though she wasn’t aware it was related to Fort Hawke before even getting there. Of course, the Duke then had both faction’s leaders sat at a meeting room to sort it out, as it was reasonable to do. After the merchants’ appointed leader left with a good compensation from the leader of the other faction for their broken wares in the scuffle, the only remaining occupants of the room were Dahlia, who had been traveling with the half-beasts of Fort Hawke, and Cyrus, who would rather be digging a hole to dispose of waste in a military camp than be dealing with this right now.
“I can’t believe you made me pay this much, Olive.” Dahlia complained, her arms crossed over her clothes. Familiar clothes, to Cyrus’ surprise. She remembered that coat and top hat, at least, and she couldn’t believe Dahlia hadn’t bought new ones in all that time. She really was a penny-pincher at heart.
“Next time, try stopping your herd from knocking several people unconscious, and maybe you won’t have to spend so much bail money.” Cyrus replied, her voice flat.
“They provoked us!” Dahlia retorted, making Cyrus shake her head. Unfortunately for her, it still was illegal to throw people over five meters into the air into their own caravan, even if they were shouting slurs. “Urgh. You’re only being harsh because it’s me.”
She could have said something that would have made Cyrus’ blood boil less.
“Harsh? I could have you arrested, Dahlia. You and all of your friends, in fact.” The Duke’s voice grew colder, almost threatening. “You’re lucky i’m in a good mood today. If you can’t get your crew to behave, get your husband to do it, i don’t care-”
“...Me and Aaron have been separated for a while now. He’s not here right now.” Dahlia’s response, as weak-voiced as it was, stopped Cyrus mid-rant.
Whatever. It wasn’t important. She couldn’t care less.
“Why?” Cyrus’ traitorous mouth asked before her brain could catch up.
“I’ve just been thinking, and… I don’t know if that was the right choice to make, back then.” Dahlia said, and Cyrus could almost believe that it was an honest mistake. “He’s got a lot to worry about back in the mountains. About the beasts and the half-beasts permanence, and i…”
“You said that a while ago, didn’t you? Why did you go through with it, then?” She absolutely wasn’t trying to have a gotcha against Dahlia, it was an honest question, Cyrus told herself.
“Well, i want to travel, and follow up with Fort Hawke’s businesses, and also i’m tired of staying home counting stocks of grains.” Dahlia continued, as if she hadn’t heard it, before her gaze focused on Cyrus. “So i left.”
The silence that fell over them, only broken by the creaking of the old chair as Cyrus tried to adjust herself comfortably and failed miserably, felt a thousand times heavier than the bag of money Dahlia had just paid to the merchant. And that was a lot.
“This means nothing to me.” Cyrus replied, finally, trying to nip the evil at the root, despite her heart beating so loud it felt like it was inside her ears.
Sighing, Dahlia got up from her chair.
“I’m just saying that whenever you get over your resentment, i’m open to talking.” She leaned over the desk between them, slightly, her hand ghosting over Cyrus’ ear, almost making her jump from the chair. “Are you never going to let your hair grow again? It’s freshly trimmed, isn’t it?”
The attempt to remove her hand was a complete failure. As soon as Cyrus grabbed her hand, it only tipped Dahlia forward. Their lips met for a brief, electrifying second, before Dahlia pulled away slightly. The devil incarnate, she surely was, as she knew Cyrus would instinctively follow her movements, and then they met halfway once again, in a way more violent kiss, less harmonious than ever. Teeth clacked, Cyrus pettily bit down on Dahlia’s lower lip. It wasn’t a particularly strong bite, but it made Dahlia fist the short hair at the nape of her neck and pull hard enough to pull Cyrus’ head backwards.
“I missed you.” Dahlia said, making Cyrus scoff, rubbing her hand over the spot where Dahlia had for sure just left a bald spot.
“You’ll leave me again.” Cyrus said, blinking fast. She hadn’t cried in years, and it was neither a harsh hair pulling or heartbreak that would make her cry now.
Dahlia just silently ran her hand over her cheek, still playing with her hair, trying to coil it around her finger.
“I really liked your hair.” Dahlia sighs, her lip wobbling a bit. “...And… I will have to go back eventually… Those people need me.”
I needed you too. Cyrus thought, but tried to swallow her selfish desire once more. It wasn’t as if she could act on it, anyway.
“He’s not as strong as you, Olive.” Dahlia leaned closer a bit more. “That’s why i have to be there, you understand?”
She absolutely did not understand, but Cyrus leaned back on the chair again, away from Dahlia, and nodded. Her mind was working too quickly right now. Maybe she should just ban Dahlia from stepping foot in the city, since just telling her to stay away hadn’t worked. Maybe not even a ban would work. Maybe she should lock her up for good measure-
A knock in the door pulled her out of her thoughts, and a guard warned that the other Fort Hawke members were just outside the door waiting for Dahlia. It was time to dismiss her, and Cyrus called the guards in to escort Dahlia out.
“I mean it.” Dahlia said quickly, before they managed to lead her outside. “I still want to talk. Please.”
So Dahlia was just bullshitting again, it seemed, because there was no way Cyrus was anywhere near strong when she nodded on Dahlia’s way out rather than telling her to shove it. Rather, she felt really weak, like a leaf in autumn, feeling all of her inner restraints and morals break apart at once.
In the next summer, when the snow had given the lands outside Sierce a break, the half-beast village at the bottom of the mountains had finally become fixed enough that a diplomatic visit was in order. Of course, it was a covert way of assessing if it posed any risk to the crown. Finding nothing too strange, the Duke, as the appointed official for the scouting, simply went back to Sierce to rest before going back to Leto.
Back at her room at the inn, she loosened her shirt and the tight bandages underneath, sighing from how tired she was, in more ways than one. It wasn’t long, though, before a rhythmic knocking at the door got her to perk up again.
In a flash, Cyrus opened the door, scanned the outside and pulled Dahlia into the room.
“How much time do we have?” Dahlia asked, as their only meeting point was just before Cyrus departed again.
“Enough.” Cyrus shrugged, a small smug smile in her lips. “This seems a little too obvious, though, are you sure your husband’s not going to realize you’re gone?”
“I don’t think so.” Dahlia chuckled, as if that was some sort of joke to her.
Well, Cyrus did hope he noticed. Maybe then she’d have a real chance at filling that gaping hole in her heart. Until then, though, a temporary fill could do the job just fine, even if each one of these short flings made the hole bigger and bigger each time they ended.
Leaving no more time to be wasted, they fell into the bed together. There were no pointless declarations of love to be had, after all.
Dahlia tugged on the short ponytail at the back of Cyrus’ head, her smile getting wider. It was long enough to be tied again, though not nearly as full as before. Just like all things in her life, it seemed, now and forever.