My Last Violet

᯽⊱❈═ E T H E L ═❈⊰᯽

Footsteps could be heard by the tinkling of the armor, the heavy breaths, the drops that fell in that space.

It was high, even falling from a feather there would be.

"Why am I here?... " Ethel began to wonder when tightening her long platinum hair "it wasn’t me... would not even be..." he continued to murmur as he held the waters that wanted to fall from his eyes.

She tried to review all the things that made her reach that moment, from her childhood to her marriage, her sale.

"I can’t love you, I’ll never be able to love you," the platinum clearly remembered, remembered the intonation, the wide sapphire eyes, the way that man’s body had moved to throw that in her face.

The same man who said he fell in love at first sight, the same man who had bright eyes and a gentle smile and a sweet voice; now he said he would not love her.

Was she some kind of joke to him? Was there anything she had done wrong? Had that passion dissipated as its ashes would be in the wind? Was that it?...

"No, it was all just a theater for him..." tried to convince himself by closing his fists "staging, pure cheap staging!" continued, and so clenched his teeth with considerable force.

However, she soon found herself in that place, the place that held her with bars and handcuffs, the one who treated her like a wild animal that did not deserve to have human interaction, see the sunlight.

But it wasn’t like I already had something better, not after your parents died when I was only seven years old in that unfortunate accident; maybe that was it, didn’t deserve to be treated well, didn’t deserve something like happiness and the cosmos or whatever existed above it, I wanted to make that clear.

She was treated like nothing disposable by her grandmother, just when she was alone, being soon thrown in a place to be trained, to be able to rebuild that duchy that could no longer stand on her own.

It’s a bargaining chip.

Yeah, a bargaining chip, that was his job.

And when it finally proved its worth as such, there it was, that Archduke who possessed a grayish blonde, light clothes with only a dark blue as his eyes giving color to that set, like a fairy tale prince charming.

Lying.

Like any children’s tale, that was a lie.

Not after you proposed to your supposed husband, not when he showed you how cold he could be, just because she said she loved him.

Without rest, on both sides, she could not obtain such a thing, such a privilege; in her old house she was reminded every time how useless it was, how she could not do something easy and obvious how to be seen as the archduchess, but how could she? When not even her husband saw her like this, when not even he recognized her as such and always brought a more beautiful and slender face into his home... How was it so obvious? How was it so easy? How did everyone get it? Why did everyone get it and not her? Was it really...as incompetent as your matriarch was keen to make clear?...

Probably, that was the case, after hearing so much the same thing, his head could not think of another justification for the distance that occurred in their marriage to be so wide.

So she tried harder, tidied up more, helped in all matters she could, attended all meetings in which she was allowed and even turned a blind eye to all the lovers who were brought.

However, of course it did not help, that is not how things work..., of course that is not how they work.

"I’m hungry..." once dared to tell her matriarch when she returned to her former residence, searching for a north "My stomach hurts..." continued with a certain whining, which earned her a slap on her face, one that made her go to the ground.

"Hungry? Do you think you’re allowed to starve? When you don’t even get in that dress?"

His grandmother said with some anger, anger that made vessels visible on his already wrinkled face.

And meanwhile, Ethel felt something strong in her stomach, a blow that tore tears from her eyes, but at that moment she did not know if it was the pain, humiliation or just the fatigue that was abundant to her for some time.

"You can’t even conceive an heir! A BLOODY HEIR!"

Her grandmother began to scream, and she felt more and more blows being thrown at her body.

Everything was only reinforced at that time, how hard to love it was, how incompetent as a woman it was how...sinful it was.

Yeah, he didn’t really deserve love.

He couldn’t have earned it.

But even so, he kept trying, trying and trying until it seemed that his efforts were bearing fruit.

He began to smile more toward her, to dine with her, to talk to her, to be mildly kind to her again.

"Did he... start loving me?" He cannot help but think, to have even the slightest hope in his breast, a brief, tiny spark of happiness cannot be prevented from rising up in his being.

Until you had your son.

Son that was torn from his arms when he was born, son who did not have time to cry and be placed in his chest..., son who was replaced by a cold and contemptuous sapphire look.

That’s it, now you got what you wanted.

She was no longer useful.

He had given an heir.

That’s where it ended.

Hung up.

He no longer had his senses, he no longer wanted to live, he no longer had glitter in his purple eyes like amethysts.

Now he was walking, walking like a walking corpse, walking like a dying man waiting for the sweet waltz he would have with death, with the gentle touch she would give him when Ethel was in his arms.

But no, I couldn’t die so easily, could I?

No, of course not.

He had a moment when he had just woken up, awake next to a dead body and strangled next to a deep cut in the marked throat.

What do you mean? She didn’t do that, did she? There’s no way, there’s no way...

But it was too late, they picked her up and soon brought her to the cell that was now, a cell that was moldy and clearly carried the heavy air of all the cries and screams that those walls had to witness.

However, perhaps this would be the first time they would be able to see such a level of despair.

The one about suicide.

"Can I at least..., decide how..." arched her lips weakly by taking a dagger that was hidden in her leg, one that had been a gift from her father before leaving her "father, mother...I will meet you again..." she said, and shortly after, that silver blade made his stomach his sheath, one that was crimson and gushed like a river.

And a silver glow in the distance, was the last thing he saw

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