Your heart has been bleeding since your return from Asmil. It was frayed, worn, and tattered, so unlike the blade you wielded. It wasn’t made to hold or meant to last. It wasn’t strengthened by fire or the flames of war. It's been two weeks since your return from the three years spent away. Looking back, you wished, too often, that you had not gone. Though it was not as simple as that, for even if the will of one person could change the past, the circumstances were not so easily undone.

You knew that you should be staring at the woman in front of you with contempt, and yet you didn’t have it in you, not when she regarded you with that glassy eyed look. You should’ve known better than to visit her, but alas duty calls. It always does.

“It’s been two weeks since your return,” you didn’t know what to make of her tone. It was as though the realization had just dawned on her. “I thought you had fallen ill.”

“Forgive me, your highness,” you said, watching a tightness set in her jaw at the title, “There was much that needed to be attended to after the war,” you continued, averting your eyes. It was true, for the most part, but there was a part of you that regretted being there, even then. It was the same part of you that kept you from visiting the last few days, though your schedule had been wholly empty.

When you looked back at her, a torrent of guilt washed over you, nearly drowning your composure. It was as though she had seen right past your excuse and bore witness to the depths of her soul, and you knew it was an ugly sight.

The face of arrant hopelessness that you had seen on the faces of so many others the past few years left you feeling nauseous.

“You’ve changed.”

You gave a bitter laugh. “And you haven’t, Lev.”

Levandra wanted to say that you were being cruel and unjust; that whatever grudge you had been nurturing during your time away was unfair, but she couldn't look into your eyes, knowing all that she did and expect anything less.

She could see that you bore the consequences of that war in every facet of your being. Your scars, your weathered body, and that damned look in your eyes. You have given everything for the kingdom, for her, time and time again, and what did she ever have to offer in return? Another order, another command, another enemy to conquer, another battle to overcome, and another war to win. Another mistake to take the fall for.

Levandra's silence stretched on and you seemed to take it as a sign to leave, bowing before pivoting to leave. She was losing you.

"Wait-" she reached out toward you, "wait please... I'm sorry. Please don't go, I'm sorry, I love you."