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Victory is earned, pleasantries are exchanged, and the long fight that lasted for five hundred years has finally, finally reached its closure.
Lumiere’s body is rigid and cold, centuries beyond its capacity to pump blood through his veins and feel the emotions crawling within him — still, as he finds himself observing the kingdom one last time with Secre close by his side, he can’t help but double check the happiness he mastered in his smile. After all, it would be heartless to show the slightest of discomfort after all the suffering Secre has been through for his sake.
Especially now, because he know it’s their last time together.
And just as Lumiere starts to get relaxed, his body falls apart.
“I guess it’s time,” he remarks halfheartedly, already aware of his crumbling body way before the first crack, he’s unsurprised to see the shock in his two descendants and the magicless boy, and is even less surprised to see the agony and panic in Secre’s face, but he keeps his head up and keeps his smile intact because today is such a good day, and Lumiere will leave the world a happy prince.
For Secre’s sake.
“I don’t have the magic to hold this body any longer,” he explains, feigning ignorance to Secre’s wavering lips, because it’s fine, she’s going to be fine. Secre is the strongest woman Lumiere has ever known — in his time, in today’s time, and throughout the five hundred years in between.
Secre looks at him with eyes that already know, his time's up. “Prince!” She cries still, her voice is hurt and shaky, a knife piercing the heart.
Luckily, with a heart made of rock such as his, it’s easier for Lumiere to look her in the eyes with an ever-present smile. “Secre…” he says, softly, picking the words carefully, tending to the heart she offered him all these centuries ago in the form of her love and loyalty. “No, you’re Nero now, right?”
She steps closer.
“Would you watch over the kingdom and everyone's futures for me?” He asks with a stretched hand and an open palm, knowing that Secre is Secre, and she will never turn his requests down, no matter how selfish they are and no matter how he secretly wishes she will.
Instead, Secre's expression breaks in fear and betrayal as she instinctively points a palm at the spot where her heart used to be. Lumiere swears he can feel the knife twisting past his broken heart and into his fading soul, but he keeps it all behind his unflinching eyes as he nods and draws his arm back, mimicking her by gesturing at his heart too.
“Prince Lumiere...”
“I gave everything I had five hundred years ago—”
“You’re...”
“I should have ended then, however—”
“I’ve always...”
“Thanks to you, I was able to protect the future!”
Secre pauses. Her lips part and unpart thrice within the same second before she speaks again with a voice too weak he nearly misses it. “If you’re going, I’ll go—”
“That’s enough.”
Secre gapes at him, flinching.
“I don’t want you to close off your own potential.” Lumiere’s words remain as firm and cold as his body, letting the meaning behind them sink and stick — because enough is enough, really, he won’t accept Secre's love and loyalty in favor of her freedom and happiness again, not today, not ever. “I’m looking for a future beyond this one,” he tries again, sparing the wide sky above them a fleeting glance. “Both for the magic knights, and for the clover kingdom we defend... and for you, Secre”
Of course, he’s speaking nonsense.
Lumiere is scared, and upset, and sad. One second or the other, he will break down and beg Secre to die with him, because Secre was his world before he met the elves, and Secre remained stubbornly in his world even when he's turned into a lifeless status and even when everyone else left and died and moved on.
For five hundred years, Secre has always, always been a soothing presence atop his head. Lumiere is afraid of losing that presence, he's afraid of being in a place without it, even if it’s the afterlife, even if she’s going to follow him one day.
And yet here he is, a rigid and cold body made of outstretched hands and uncracking smile and unweeping eyes all working collectively to form the image of the happy prince.
Because—
This is for Secre’s sake .
She can’t just die.
Not even for him. Especially not for him.
It’s fine. She doesn’t really need to let go of him. Today, Lumiere will be the one letting her go. Today, Lumiere will be the one making sacrifices. Today, Lumiere will break his heart into a million pieces and offer them all to Secre in a silver plate, so whenever the pain is too much — she can fill her heart with his remains.
So she can heal, so she can live.
So she can be free and happy, in a world full of potential where he doesn't exist, and with amazing comrades who are not him, because today is Lumiere’s last day, and Lumiere will leave the world a happy prince.
(For Secre's sake).
His happiness only grows extraordinarily warmer once Secre skips the distance between them and two warm hands grip tightly on his hand.
“Being able to serve you all this time, it made me very happy.” She says, voice ringing like a prayer. Within her blinking eyes, Lumiere sees a glimpse of the happy future ahead of her.
“Five hundred years, really, Secre, thank you for all you’ve done,” — and he means it, truly, wholeheartedly, so, if he's allowed to make one selfish wish, then please — “From now on, win new happiness for yourself with the companions you find in this era…”
The sun is rising, the wind is blowing, a page is turning, and five hundred years of love and loyalty have finally, finally reached its closure.
“Nero.”