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Marguerite was sitting in the shade of a tree within the castle grounds, braiding the stems of violets into a crown when a shadow fell over her.
She'd heard the clanking approaching, of course, knew that it was coming toward her, but she still liked to pretend she was surprised.
"Madame," a deep, muffled voice greeted her from behind the visor.
"My knight in shining armor," Marguerite said a little flatly, not looking up from her flowers.
The knight flipped up the visor, revealing the stoic face beneath. "Marguerite," the voice pitched up, distressed.
"Louise," Marguerite responded, finally looking up, nearly blinded by the sun glinting off the metal armor.
"I-I," Louise starts, kneeling in front of Marguerite, "I'll be leaving for Paris soon. The war…"
And Marguerite had heard enough about the war, heard enough about honor, and possibly dying for a noble cause. She was sick of it.
"Enough!" Marguerite snapped. "I have heard enough. Go die, for all I care."
"M-m'lady," Louise tries, reaching a gauntlet out toward her lover's face.
"Do not touch me," Marguerite said, moving out of Louise's reach.
"But I love you," Louise said, sounding hurt.
"If you loved me, you wouldn't go. You would take me far away from here, away from the war, and we could live happily." She began tearing at the beautiful purple flowers in her hand, ripping out the delicate petals and shredding the stems.
"It is a fantasy, my lady," Louise said, falling back on her haunches. "We will never have that. Not in this life time."
"Then kiss me one last time, and take of me your leave," Marguerite instructed, feeling the hot tears prick at her eyes.
The warm metal gauntlet found the side of Marguerite's neck then, and the helmet was brought into her space. There was just enough room for a quick peck of a kiss through the visor.
"I'll never forget you, Lady Marguerite," Louise told her on a fierce whisper. "May you find happiness in this life, someday."
And then, in a clatter, Louise was gone.