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How were you supposed to comfort someone who despised it? Herman thought as he stood by the door. The servants didn’t come near these quarters. Not anymore. Miss Evaldina preferred it that way.
Oh, yes, she preferred to be called Anita now. Anita Vedis. She became attached to this character.
The long strings of coughs continued. His heart tightened, but he knew hers was worse off. It felt strange.
Love was always communicated through servitude. That’s how Herman Silveige had learned it. He’d made sure to watch his parents and classmates. He listened patiently when Regina explained her feelings for the Vestein son.
Princess Regina had said being in love was staying by that person’s side. No matter what. Hence why Herman was beside her door now.
I wish to assist you, Lady Anita. Each time, those words had more impact. He’d come to understand disgust through those red eyes.
They’ve paled into a delicate pink. She was fading. How can he stay by her side when she becomes dust? He’ve heard her say it from afar enough times.
I will grind this heart into dust.
The disgust wasn’t always directed at him. Did it matter though? The servants didn’t come through these hallways because they knew better.
Anita would shove them away when they offered help and yell until her voice became hoarse. She’d quietly tell them to leave afterwards.
He’s seen the fear in their eyes, but Herman never felt it once. This pitiful, desperate creature. He had instead thought. Once, the thought had been condescending. Now, the thought felt closest to reverence or worship.
Worship. He glanced down at the ground. His hands still touching the wall behind him. The closest he could feel to Anita at the moment.
Herman never believed any of the legends or religious figures. The story of the first emperor ‘getting rid of witches’ had always been too vague. He passed it off as a tale for the common folks to keep the upper class in power.
He believed that until he saw her. Saw her round, blank eyes and thin figure, and her lack of manners. She had been so starved when he first saw her. So inelgent yet she indulged in playing Anita Vedis. He’d known she couldn’t be the real Anita Vedis, but she had been so pitiful. He brought her to the duchy.
There were moments where she’d move him as if he was truly a puppet, and he’d let her. It felt almost like affection, how she’d brush his hair, lay against his chest, and squeeze his arm. At first, it’d been interesting to watch her command and move him. He didn’t know why he never created a line.
She poisoned his mother. His dear mother, who was still furious and still in the cell. Yet all he could think of was how Evaldina felt in that cell.
Evaldina, would there ever be a tradgey worse then yours? Herman could only attempt it pitifully.
Herman once thought he’d never feel empathy. A foolish thought he had in the academy. Foolish, because when Anita had told him her story, he felt so much. Too much.
The worst was how she didn’t expect him to react. She spoke to him as if he wasn’t a person, as if he wasn’t someone, as if she was alone. Always alone.
For the first time, Herman wasn’t expected to smile, empathize, or act in the way an heir should. He had just stood there, and she was satisfied. Nothing was needed. No emotion to force but the actions of his hands. How much blood he could dip into was the only requirement.
For the first time, Herman yearned to be emotional, be in love, be wounded, and be like her so she won’t be alone. So when they were in a room together, she could speak to him as an equal.
Why should she be so wounded and alone? If she were to end up in hell, with whom? With that swine of a man? Or worse, that man will rise to the heavens with God's love. While his Anita, Herman’s Evaldina, will rot in hell.
So in pain, so alone, yet she’d force another breath, another spell, another fight.
Even if we end up in the depths of hell. He’ll commit as many sins as her and suffer alongside her. He swore it.
Yet in every reelection, he saw the slight curve of her lips and the white eyelashes against her skin. She’d close her eyes whenever she’d smile. It was almost cruel. He wished to see the light in her eyes.
The coughs have gotten quiet. An urgency overtook him.
Herman opened the door without knocking or thinking. Her form was hunched, holding on to the chair of her vanity table. Her hand gripping her chest.
“Lady Anita,” he paused as if grasping on the edge of his longings. “May we take a walk?” Anita’s hands tightened on the chair. He worded things ‘wrong’ again. “The gardens are beautiful tonight.” He quickly added.
“I have no time for that.” The flowy fabric of her sleeves made her pale, clenched hands look even more pitiful. The gown was off-shoulder and accompanied by a choker. She wore black on the days she spent alone, planning and suffering.
Always in mourning, Evaldina.
Without much thought, he came closer and reached toward her neck. The red skin under the choker was clear to anybody.
Anita flinched back, almost stumbling against the vanity table. She held on to the table with one hand, clenching her chest with the other. Her huffs came out slowly as she looked up at him.
When her eyes were wide open, she was always angry, afraid, and hurt. Herman didn’t know which it was this time.
“Don’t touch me…don’t.” Lord Herman’s ‘paramour’ was saying that. Ever since Herman and Princess Regina’s engagement fell through, people called Anita that.
Paramour. When Regina implied it, Herman’s eyes wrinkled, but he smiled, keeping himself composed.
It was ironic how the rumored paramour of his would hold so much disgust in her wide eyes. He didn’t step back but didn’t reach forward. His eyes stayed glued to her neck. Was choking herself the intention?
The redness of her neck, the pants in the silent room, and the look of pain in her eyes. It was all beautiful even if it wasn’t her happiness.
“Evaldina, are you alright?” Herman couldn’t tell what kind of expression he was making. He didn’t know exactly what he wanted to convey either.
Anita’s eyes widened, and they darted around the room. Evaldina. A painful reminder that he bestowed upon her frequently.
“Get out…go away. I don't need you.” As long as she didn't need him, he should disappear. Herman smiled slightly at the thought. The same repetitions between stolen breaths. As long as she walked on God’s land, she’d suffer. As long as she breathed in God’s air, she’d choke. As long as she thought, she’d grieve and hate.
Herman bowed his head before leaving. He shut the door slowly behind him.
She collapsed by the thud sound. That or she threw something across the room. He didn't know which anymore.
If her smile was too rare, then he’d reap her pain and desperation. He was grateful as long as he was by her side.
Listening to her pants, Herman placed his hand on his throat and squeezed.