Chapter Text
Gilbert had a problem. A very BIG problem.
He was terribly smitten with Lovino.
Now, you might be wondering how exactly that could be a problem. Falling in love was hardly anything exceptional. Everyone fell in love. It was only natural. Well, in Gilbert’s case, it was a problem, and a major one, because the person he had fallen hopelessly in love with was not just anyone... he was a Vargas, and the Vargas-es were absolutely, without a doubt, off limits to anyone and everyone when it came to matters of the heart.
Why?
Because the Vargas-es were saints. Literal flipping saints.
They were fully devoted to the Church, the Almighty, and the people they guided. They were so holy, both in status and in spirit, that there was simply no room in their lives for love. Well, actually, there was room for love in their lives... just not the kind of love Gilbert wanted from Lovino.
They loved their people, their fellow believers, and everyone else who was under their care. After all, Saints could not be without love. They were meant to give it freely and without condition to the faithful. But their love was the kind of love a ruler had for their subjects or a guardian for their wards, not the kind one felt for a lover. It was sweet... but that was all there was to it. There was no temptation in it, no yearning for something deeper than companionship... no desire of the flesh. It was a love that belonged to everyone... a selfless kind of love.
Unfortunately for Gilbert, he loved Lovino selfishly, and craved him with a desire that was anything but sweet. However, one could not love a Saint as they loved another believer. Saints were above such ordinary human wants. They could offer someone affection or devotion, perhaps even comfort, but they could never give themselves to another in the intimate way the common folk did. To love someone as a lover would mean choosing one person above all the others and giving in to the earthly urges, and a Saint could never make such a greedy choice.
Who, exactly, were the Vargas-es anyway? Well...
Romeo Vargas was the oldest member of the Vargas family and the grandfather of the Vargas brothers, Lovino and Feliciano. He was the Pope of the Church and was highly respected for his kind nature and devotion to the Lord. Despite his old age, he was a lively man and was known for granting blessings and helping those in need. It was said that a simple touch or prayer from him could heal the sick, bring good fortune to the unfortunate, or even purify the hearts of those who had sinned. Because of this, people traveled from far and wide just to get the chance to see him and receive one of his famous blessings.
His divine gift seemed to have been passed down to his grandsons as well. Like Romeo, Lovino and Feliciano were said to be capable of performing holy miracles, which was why they had been appointed as the Pope’s cardinals. They assisted him with his sacred duties and offered him advice whenever he needed it, which, admittedly, wasn't often, but you get the point.
Feliciano was the youngest of the Vargas brothers and, in Gilbert’s opinion, the sweetest person to ever walk the Earth. He was cheerful, positive, and so kindhearted that every time Gilbert saw him, he could swear there were actual sparkles around him, forming a halo above his head. Everyone loved Feliciano, and they all said he had a heart of gold, and Gilbert couldn't disagree with them. In fact, he was convinced that if Feliciano ever died and someone were to open his chest, actual gold would come spilling out of him.
Lovino, on the other hand, was the complete opposite of Feliciano. He was the eldest of the Vargas brothers and was prickly, sharp-tongued, and sour as a lemon. He had a short temper and had a tendency to lash out, which made Gilbert, along with many others, wonder how someone who behaved so decidedly unsaintly could possibly be considered as blessed as Lovino was said to be.
At first, Gilbert hadn't been too fond of Lovino. He had disliked him quite a lot, actually, and even that was putting it mildly. He thought it was blasphemous and unfair that he had to serve such a rude man who claimed to be devoted to the Heavenly Father yet had a mouth of sin and an attitude that rivaled the unholy. He thought Lovino was undeserving of his status despite his supposed divine gifts, and he always found himself getting annoyed whenever he had to interact with him.
Though, of course, he never let it show. Lovino was a Cardinal, after all, while Gilbert was merely his follower. It would have been deeply disrespectful for him to snap at Lovino or openly admit that he disliked him. But he certainly thought it... very, very intensely. However, his opinion of the eldest Vargas changed, and all his dislike for him vanished in an instant after Lovino did something that left Gilbert speechless.
It had happened many months ago, during the coldest part of winter, when the roads were buried beneath thick layers of snow and the bitter cold made travel difficult. The harsh weather had ruined much of the year's harvest, so families had little food and were forced to ration what they had. With supplies running low, there was a growing fear among the people that the capital would soon face famine.
To avoid that, Gilbert, as the commander of the Holy Knights, had been appointed by the Pope to lead a group of his men to a neighboring region in the South. The winters there were much milder, and the land was still warm enough for crops to be grown and harvested. Their task was to secure a large shipment of food from the Southerners and escort it safely back to the capital, where it could be distributed to the starving people.
The journey was long and treacherous. Not only did they have to make their way through the bitter winter weather, but they also had to travel near the border of a neighboring nation that was caught in a series of skirmishes with another country seeking to expand its territory. So, they had to tread carefully, as they could be dragged into the conflict at any moment... and If that happened, they would be heavily outnumbered and could easily lose their lives.
Gilbert was a perfectionist and liked to see everything through properly, so he planned the journey down to the smallest detail. He studied the roads they would take, prepared for possible delays, and gave his soldiers clear instructions on what to do and how to react in case of anything. He wanted to make sure the mission went smoothly and that everyone could return home in one piece.
He was confident, as he always was, knowing that he and his men were capable of accomplishing anything as long as they put their minds to it. However, his confidence had been dampened when he learned that his brother, Ludwig, the Lieutenant and his second-in-command, would not be accompanying him.
Ludwig usually came along with him on his more dangerous journeys, but this time the Pope had ordered him to remain in the capital with a small group of Knights to protect the people and defend the city in case of an attack or outbreak.
Because of this, Gilbert thought it might put his mind at ease to receive a blessing from the Pope before leaving. Unfortunately, the Pope was away on Church business that day and would not return before Gilbert and his men had to depart. Gilbert then considered asking the youngest Vargas, Feliciano, to bless their journey instead, but Feliciano was busy tending to the sick, and Gilbert didn't want to disturb him. He was ready to give up and leave without a blessing, but just as he was about to order his troops to move out, the eldest Vargas, Lovino, overheard his complaints and offered to bless their journey instead.
That had come as a shock to Gilbert. Initially, he’d thought to straight up refuse him, since he really couldn’t stand Lovino, but when he looked around and saw the hopeful faces of his men, he decided against it and begrudgingly accepted the Italian's offer.
Lovino led them into the Grand Cathedral and toward the main chamber, where the soldiers gathered around the altar. Once everyone had settled into place, Lovino began to pray for them. As Gilbert listened to his prayers, he felt himself slowly begin to relax. Despite how harsh Lovino sounded when he spoke, his voice was sweet as honey when he prayed.
Gilbert remembered how intensely he had stared at the Cardinal that day. He was so entranced by the sound of his voice that he barely noticed anything else around him. So, when the Italian suddenly called for him to come up to the altar, Gilbert was completely caught off guard. Him! Caught off guard! The great Commander of the Holy Order! And by Lovino, no less! It was unbelievable!
He had awkwardly made his way to the altar before lowering himself onto his knees and bowing his head, as was customary when receiving a blessing. He tried to pull himself together after that embarrassing moment and eventually managed to do so as Lovino continued his soothing prayer. But after the Italian made the Sign of the Cross over him, things took such an unexpected turn that even now, thinking about it made Gilbert’s pulse race as though he were experiencing it all over again. God, it was still so vivid in his mind...
His eyes had been fixed on the marble floor, and when Lovino fell silent, signaling that his prayer had come to an end, Gilbert slowly drew his sword.
“Bless this blade,” he had asked, “that it may bring us victory should we need to use it, and bring my men home.” with that, he pressed his lips to the sword’s crossguard and murmured a quiet plea for mercy before holding it out across his palms to Lovino.
The Cardinal studied him for a moment. Then, instead of simply touching the sword to bless it, he slowly lowered himself onto his knees in front of Gilbert.
Gilbert froze. It was unheard of for a Cardinal to kneel before one of his own followers. The gesture was so humble and unexpected that he could no longer keep his head bowed. He lifted it and looked at Lovino in bewilderment.
The Italian was so close that Gilbert could see the way his bangs fell across his forehead and into his eyes, as well as the smooth, unblemished skin of his face. It was so different from Gilbert’s own, which was marked by scars from the countless battles he had fought to protect his country. And then there were Lovino’s hazel eyes. They were a rich brown, reminding Gilbert of the earth after the rain, with flecks of green scattered through them like the leaves of trees in spring. They were so bright and full of life that Gilbert could do nothing but lose himself in them.
Lovino carefully took the sword from his hands and, to Gilbert’s utter surprise, pressed his lips to the very spot where Gilbert’s own had touched the crossguard.
“May God hear your plea,” he had told him. “May He grant you mercy on your journey and help you find victory in your pursuit.” he then held the sword back out to Gilbert, but the German was so stunned by what Lovino had done that he could not bring himself to move or say a word.
The Cardinal waited for a second before awkwardly clearing his throat. “Amen.” he muttered, then gently urged Gilbert to take back his sword.
The German blinked and quickly shook his head, trying to clear his tangled thoughts. “Uh, fuck, I mean, Amen...! Amen. Gott, forgive me, Your Eminence. I... I didn’t mean to utter such blasphemy in the presence of the Holy Father.” he apologized, mentally cursing himself for making such a terrible mistake before clumsily taking his sword back from Lovino’s hands. His cold fingers brushed against the Cardinal’s warm ones, sending a strange, pleasant tingle through his skin that nearly made him flinch. Gilbert gritted his teeth and tried to push the feeling away. What was wrong with him?
Inhaling sharply, he quickly clipped the sword back onto his belt before lowering his head as much as he could to avoid the Cardinal’s gaze. He could feel his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment, and it made him want to smack himself. He was certain Lovino was judging him for the lack of professionalism he had just displayed, and he couldn’t blame him for it. He was acting so goddamn odd... nothing like his usual self.
Damn it.
He was supposed to be a Commander, for God’s sake, an image of perfection in front of his troops and God, not some clumsy moron who lost his composure before the eldest Cardinal and started thinking and feeling things because of him that he had no business thinking or feeling!
He had expected Lovino to dismiss him with a sharp word or perhaps even berate him for his insolence. Swearing inside a church was heavily frowned upon, after all, and Lovino was known to have little tolerance for such behavior. But instead, Gilbert heard the Cardinal let out a small huff, which made him frown in confusion.
Reluctantly, Gilbert looked up at Lovino as the Italian rose from his knees and dusted off his crimson and white robes. That was when he noticed the brunet biting his lip. He was trying to suppress an amused smile from forming on his face, though he was not doing a very good job at it. In all the time Gilbert had served him, he had never seen Lovino smile before. To be honest, he had never even thought the man could smile, but seeing him like this now, Gilbert could only think one thing: it suited him very well.
The moment that thought crossed his mind, his heart began to beat wildly in his chest. It was pounding so hard that he almost felt breathless, even though he had done nothing that should have left him short of breath. This only made Gilbert more confused about what on earth was happening to him.
Before he could dwell on that any further, Lovino told him to stand up and then dismissed him and his men with a wave of his hand. The soldiers bowed before quickly filing out of the Cathedral to form up and prepare for their departure. The German slowly made his way after them, one hand pressed against his chest as he tried to get his heart to calm down.
“What in God’s name is the matter with me...?” he muttered to himself in frustration.
When he reached the entrance of the Cathedral, the cold wind biting at his skin, Gilbert suddenly stopped in his tracks. For some reason, he felt an inexplicable urge to look back at Lovino, like an itch he had to scratch or else he would lose his mind, and before he could think better of it, he did.
He glanced over his shoulder at the Cardinal and saw Lovino covering his mouth with the back of his hand, now seemingly trying to stifle a laugh. The sight made Gilbert’s already racing heart beat even faster. And as Gilbert continued to stare at him, feeling everything inside him turn to mush, he came to a horrifying realization.
Holy fuck.
He had just fallen in love with the eldest Vargas brother.
At first, he tried to deny the feeling, telling himself that the only reason his pulse quickened whenever he saw the Italian was because Lovino had caught him off guard, and he simply needed time to process what had happened at the altar that day. However, as the months passed and winter turned into spring, Gilbert found himself thinking more and more about Lovino’s smile and his beautiful hazel eyes. Eventually, he had no choice but to accept that he was, indeed, terribly smitten with the Cardinal.
It was a tragedy. Gilbert had spent years training and working hard to earn the position he held now. He had built an immaculate reputation as one of the finest Knights his nation had ever seen and earned the prestige and honor that came with serving the Church and its people. Yet all of that hard work could be thrown out the window if anyone, or worse, Lovino himself, were to find out about his silly little crush on him.
It was highly unprofessional and... undignified! He was supposed to be better than this. He was supposed to be above sappy feelings and all that nonsense, especially when it came to a holy figure like Lovino, toward whom he had no right to feel anything other than respect or admiration. But here he was, being reduced to nothing more than a lovesick fool. And all because of what? A few unexpected gestures? A kiss to his sword? A smile? Ugh! How had he allowed this to happen?
Gilbert had tried to crush his feelings for the Italian by forcing himself to see Lovino in a negative light again. However, the more he observed him, the more entranced he became by him, and he slowly began to realize just how badly he had misjudged him before.
Lovino might have had a sharp tongue, but he truly did deserve the title of a Saint. Every week, he would buy fresh bread with his younger brother and personally help distribute it to impoverished families. Despite his busy schedule, he made time to visit the orphanage, where he would read passages from the Bible to the children and teach them the difference between right and wrong. He also helped fund shelters, supported various charities, and regularly donated to those in need. By all accounts, he was exactly what a Saint was supposed to be.
Honestly, seeing him do all those good deeds made Gilbert want to become a better person himself. He guessed the saying, “Virtue inspires virtue” really was right.
Beyond his obvious kindness, Gilbert had begun to notice other things about Lovino... like the way his brows knitted together whenever he concentrated on reading Scripture, the tiny huffs he let out whenever something inconvenienced him, and the way he muttered complaints under his breath while doing things he did not particularly want to do. Those were things that would have most likely annoyed the German before, but now, whenever he saw Lovino do anything of the sort, he found himself smiling.
It soon became apparent to Gilbert that there was absolutely no way he could simply get rid of his feelings for the eldest Vargas, so he decided to do the next best thing to protect his career: keep his feelings to himself and pretend they didn’t exist.
In theory, it sounded easy. In practice, however, it was anything but. Gilbert kept finding himself wanting to see Lovino, often rearranging his schedule just to get the chance to stop by the Cathedral or the Papal Palace and catch even a glimpse of him. It was the exact opposite of what he should have been doing, and he knew that, but he was simply so taken with Lovino that going even a single day without seeing him felt like torture to his very soul.
However...!
Gilbert liked to convince himself that if he saw enough of Lovino, his feelings for him would eventually fade away. People grew tired of one another when they spent too much time together... or so he had heard. Therefore, if he spent enough time around Lovino, he would eventually grow tired of the Cardinal, and things would return to the way they had been before... back when Gilbert could focus on his duties and carry out his responsibilities without Lovino constantly occupying his thoughts. Oh, how he wished he could go back to those days.
Gilbert sighed as he leaned against one of the Cathedral’s pillars, crossing his arms across his chest as his cape slipped loosely over one of his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on Lovino, who was walking through the cloister with Feliciano, discussing what Gilbert could only assume were important Church matters, while two guards trailed behind them at a respectful distance.
Gilbert was supposed to be patrolling the Cathedral grounds. Or, at least, he had been until he caught sight of Lovino and decided that his troops could handle the task by themselves while he stayed behind and stared at Lovino... like a lovesick idiot.
To be fair, he should not have been patrolling in the first place. Routine patrols were usually handled by his men, while he only intervened when something important required his attention. He was the Commander, after all. He should have been occupied with far more important matters, such as planning military campaigns and dealing with the tedious paperwork that came with leading the Holy Knights. But lately, he had found himself joining the patrols more and more often... you could probably guess why...
“Commander.” a voice suddenly called out to him, making Gilbert jump in place. He quickly turned around and saw his brother standing a short distance away from him, his arms folded respectfully behind his back.
“Ludwig, Gods, you scared me,” the older man said, trying to calm down his racing heart. “You seriously have to stop sneaking up on me like that. One day, you’re going to give me a heart attack, and then you’ll find yourself with your older brother in the grave, haha.”
At that, Ludwig grimaced. “Don’t joke like that,” he said with a frown, his formal demeanor dropping as he shook his head. “Anyway, forgive me if I startled you. In my defense, I called your name twice already, but you were apparently far too lost in your own thoughts to hear me.”
“Oh... I was?”
“Yes.”
“I see... Then, I suppose I should be the one apologizing to you. It wasn’t my intention to ignore you.” Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck and gave his brother an awkward smile, to which Ludwig merely sighed.
“There’s no need. I’ve already gotten used to your sudden aloofness these past few months,” he replied tiredly before clearing his throat. “But putting that aside, Bruder, what are you doing here?”
Gilbert blinked before straightening up and confidently flicking his cape over his shoulder. “What do you mean? I’m patrolling, of course! Someone has to make sure the clergy are safe, and who better to do it than the Commander himself?”
“No, I know that, but... why?” Ludwig asked, his face twisting in confusion. “You’ve already patrolled here last week, and the week before that... and the week before that, too. It’s unusual for you to attend so many patrols. You have better things to do than make rounds around the capital like a common soldier. You have meetings with the captains to attend, the city’s defenses to organize, evacuation plans for civilians to prepare in case of an emergency... things that actually require your attention, not this.” he gestured around the cloister. “Even I don’t attend as many patrols as you have these past few months, and that’s something that’s far more expected of my position than it is of yours.”
Hearing that, the white-haired man deflated. “Ah, so you only came here to pick on me. And here I thought you wanted to spend some quality time with your older brother. Ludwig, you really wound me.” he said dramatically, earning himself a scowl from the younger man.
“Gilbert, I’m being serious. The men are starting to grow anxious because of you. They keep thinking you’re coming over here to inspect their formations or equipment, or to collect their reports, only to see you wandering around with your head in the clouds as though you don’t have a single duty to fulfill. Seriously, what’s going on with you? You haven’t been yourself at all lately.” Ludwig pointed out, his tone becoming more concerned. “Ever since you completed that supply operation in January, you’ve been acting strangely... Did something happen back then that’s left you feeling unsettled?”
Gilbert opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a single word out, the blond continued. “You know, I worry about you, Bruder. I know how much you value your pride, but I wish you would talk to me if something is bothering you. We’re family, after all... and I care about you deeply, even if I don’t always show it.”
The older man clenched his jaw and swallowed dryly before looking away. He knew better than anyone how strange he had been acting, and he felt guilty for causing his brother distress when Ludwig already had so much on his plate. But he couldn’t help it. He was lovesick, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of it.
He normally told his brother everything that was on his mind, but this was different. This was something he couldn’t confess to anyone, not even to Ludwig. It was improper and unheard of... it was something he would have to take to his grave, lest he risk tarnishing his honor as a prestigious Knight and bringing shame upon his family’s name... bringing shame upon Ludwig. He couldn’t do that to his brother.
“Ludwig, you really are my brother. Only you could worry this much over nothing,” Gilbert said at last, forcing a lighthearted tone into his voice as he stepped closer to his brother and ruffled his hair. “Nothing’s bothering me. I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. The operation in January was a success, with no mishaps, so don’t concern yourself with that. The Lord made sure my men and I were triumphant.” he paused for a moment, searching for an excuse that might put his brother's concerns to rest, before continuing, “I... well, I suppose I’ve just gotten a sudden taste of nostalgia, that’s all. I wanted to remember what it was like when I was nothing more than a simple Knight, patrolling the streets and standing on guard without any of the worries I have now. Ah, those were good times.”
Ludwig shoved his hand away and smoothed his hair back into place before fixing Gilbert with an annoyed look. “When will you stop doing that? I’m not a kid anymore. It’s extremely irritating.”
“You’ll always be a kid to me, though, so to answer your question, never!” Gilbert replied teasingly. Ludwig groaned and pushed him back, earning an amused laugh from the older man.
Ludwig remained quiet for a moment, muttering a curse under his breath before looking skeptically at Gilbert. “So then... you’re alright? You really just wish to reminisce?”
“Yup.” Gilbert nodded confidently.
“But... for months on end? That doesn’t really sound like you, Bruder. Even when you get melancholic, you always snap out of it fairly quickly. Being wistful isn’t really your thing. You’re always preaching about leaving the past in the past and focusing on the future...”
The older German clenched his fists. “I do do that, don’t I...?” he muttered under his breath before letting out a small sigh. “Well, sometimes even I can’t help being stupidly sentimental. It’s only human, am I right? I can’t always be perfectly perfect. Sometimes I get hit by the common feels just like any other regular person.” he nudged his brother lightly, but Ludwig merely gave him a doubtful look.
“I suppose...”
“Don’t fret. I’ll be back to my normal self soon enough. I promise you. I just need to...” Gilbert’s gaze drifted away from Ludwig and toward Lovino, who was now inspecting some white lilies with Feliciano. His expression softened as he watched the older Italian grumble at his brother, his eyes filling with a yearning he despised. He then turned his attention back to Ludwig. “...gather my thoughts for a little while longer. Yeah.”
Ludwig’s eyes briefly flickered toward the two Cardinals before returning to Gilbert. He pressed his lips into a thin line, looking as though he wanted to say something more, but eventually, much to Gilbert’s relief, decided not to press the matter further.
“Alright,” he said, sounding defeated. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Hearing that, the white-haired man beamed and slapped his brother on the back. “That’s the spirit!”
Ludwig grunted, shooting him an annoyed side glance before stepping away from him and putting some distance between them. He folded his hands behind his back and straightened his posture. “Well then, I’ve got duties to attend to, so I’d best be on my way,” he said, slipping back into his formal demeanor. “Good day, Commander.”
With that, he bowed and turned to leave, his cape fluttering behind him. However, he had barely taken a couple of steps when he suddenly stopped, seeming to realize something, and glanced back over his shoulder at Gilbert. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. A letter from our cousin, Roderich, arrived this morning.”
At that, Gilbert raised a confused eyebrow. “Roderich? What does he want?”
Roderich was his and Ludwig’s cousin. He lived outside the capital, on the outskirts of the country, and was an influential Viscount who owned numerous lands and estates. He was actually the reason Gilbert and Ludwig had become Knights in the first place. He had personally recommended them both to the Knightly Order, and his influence had made it easy for them to be accepted when they first began their training.
Gilbert was eternally grateful to his cousin and cared for him deeply, but... Roderich was... how to put it... not someone Gilbert got along with. He was kind, and Gilbert loved that about him, but he was also very, VERY pompous and pretentious, and so goddamn snobbish that Gilbert couldn’t stand it. It made him want to punch him in the face. He’d even almost done it once, that was how badly Roderich could irritate him! And to make matters worse, Roderich couldn’t stand him either because Gilbert was apparently too “brutish” for his liking. Which, in Gilbert’s opinion, made absolutely no sense, since he wasn’t a brute at all. If anything, he was a very refined man, but whatever...
That being said, the two of them had a long history of bickering and arguing, which made their relationship... er... complicated.
“He says he’s passing through the capital on business and would like to meet us this evening. He’s reserved a private table at some new tavern that recently opened and has apparently become quite popular among the nobles. It’s called...” Ludwig trailed off for a second. “Ah, the name has completely slipped my mind,” he admitted before waving a dismissive hand. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. You’ll read the letter yourself and see. Anyway, he insists it’s been far too long since we last saw each other and would like to catch up and see how we’ve been faring.”
“This evening...?” Gilbert frowned. He wasn’t really in the mood to go out and entertain his snobby cousin, especially after learning that Ludwig and most of his troops had begun to notice his strange behavior. The only thing he wanted to do tonight was figure out how to get his feelings for Lovino under control before they ended up ruining his life. “Is it really necessary that I come? I’m quite tired and would much rather rest than waste my evening at some random tavern filled with stuck-up people.”
“Yes. He was very adamant about it in his letter.”
Gilbert stifled a groan of annoyance. “Of course he was...” he muttered bitterly. “Damn him. He always somehow manages to ruin my plans. I swear to the Heavens, he must be doing this on purpose just to irritate me.”
Ludwig stared at him for a moment before sighing. “I’m not particularly pleased about this either, since I have to be at the training grounds early tomorrow morning to debrief the new recruits. But he’s family, and it would be nice to meet up with him, especially since we don’t get to see him very often.”
Gilbert dragged a hand down his face in frustration. He knew there was no getting out of this. When Roderich insisted on something, it simply had to be done. Otherwise, he would hold it over Gilbert’s head until he drove him mad. And that was the last thing Gilbert needed right now.
“Fine, I’ll go,” he grumbled gloomily. “But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”
At that, the blond nodded. “Thank you, Bruder.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, shoo. Go do your work. You don’t want to fall behind schedule, do you?”
Ludwig simply nodded again before turning away and taking his leave. His footsteps echoed across the stone floor, gradually growing fainter until they disappeared completely as he left the cloister.
Gilbert watched him disappear before letting his shoulders slump in disappointment. God, he was pathetic. So freaking pathetic.
The red-eyed man gritted his teeth, growing angrier with himself by the second. Without thinking, he turned toward the pillar he had been leaning against earlier and kicked it hard. The stone cracked slightly, and his anger immediately vanished, being instead replaced by panic.
“Shit.” he muttered, glancing around nervously to see if anyone had witnessed him committing such a dishonorable act against the Holy Cathedral, only to realize that the Cardinals had long since left with their guards and that he was alone in the cloister with nothing but the wind howling around him.
Gilbert closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself, before crouching down to dust off the cracked stone. “Forgive me, Lord.” he murmured quietly. He then turned around and slumped back against the pillar, drawing his knees loosely toward his chest. Draping his forearms across them, he stared up at the vaulted ceiling, which was covered in paintings of various saints. Their painted eyes seemed to stare down at him, and he couldn’t help but feel as though they were judging him from above.
It made him feel guilty.
“Ah, what am I going to do?” Gilbert said to himself, his voice echoing through the empty cloister. He wished he would've received some kind of answer... something that might've put an end to the mental torment he was experiencing and told him what he was supposed to do. But the only response he got was the wind tugging at his hair.
Gilbert’s mouth twisted into a grimace. He let his head fall back against the pillar with a dull thud, biting back the urge to scream.