☀️ Arselia and Akonia

Throughout the day, Beata couldn't help but notice that Guyon was becoming quieter and more pensive with each passing hour. At first, he pretended everything was fine, and his confession after leaving the church had greatly reassured her, but then he began to retreat into his thoughts. By evening, at the restaurant, he no longer hid that he had withdrawn into himself, and responded to her attempts to talk with short, one-syllable answers.
On the way home, she asked him point-blank what was wrong.
- I'm just reminiscing about our adventures. I took an unbiased look at how you treated me all this time. It's slowly dawning on me what kind of person you really are.
He said this in his usual soft voice, calmly, with a slight smile, looking at her with his kind blue eyes... And that only made the situation worse.
- Let's talk at home, okay? I'm tired, and we still have flags to hang. And the safe was delivered, we need to put the rings and your dress in it, so that nothing happens to them.
Beata didn't argue, just nodded and followed him. And although she didn't react outwardly, something inside her died.
"What kind of person you really are."
She really is a shitty person.
After that memorable confession, it took Guyon half a day to convince her that his feelings had nothing to do with the curse, that he sincerely loved her and was ready to marry her right now. He cited all his past owners, whom he hated with every fiber of his being every second he was with them, claiming that if she were even half as bad, he would never have grown attached to her. He managed to convince her. Guyon loves her, she loves him — that had been Beata's truth for the past couple of months. She thought about finding a way to free him from the curse, but they were all too busy. She spent her days running between tables at "Lepota," and he was at the hospital, learning medical science under the watchful eye of Bresia Antimachus. As much as they could, they helped with the construction and organization, and by evening they only had enough energy to crawl into bed. There wasn't even time for proper conversations. She knew one surefire way to make Guyon a free man and was ready to do it at any moment, but she understood he would never forgive her for it. Gradually, this topic faded into the background.
And then Yevgeny reminded her.
On one hand, the invisible chains are gone, she has no influence over her partner, and he is again fully entitled to choose his own path.
On the other... What if the patriarch was right? What if the curse really did poison his mind so much that he didn't realize it? And now that he can look at things impartially...
Her heart skipped a beat again.
She herself began to remember how she had treated him.
Compared him to a thing, a soulless object. Yelled at him, constantly ordered him around and pressured him. Sometimes she even hit him. Openly put herself above him. Set him up and put him in danger; he nearly died because of her and solely because of her fault. She took advantage of his subordinate position, his inability to fight back, even if unconsciously for most of the time, but does that excuse her?
Who is she kidding... She is a terrible, disgusting person. Nothing good can come from someone like her. Her attempts to change herself are pathetic and insignificant. She is scum, a useless piece of trash from a stinking swamp that should have stayed in that swamp. By the very fact of her existence, she has caused a lot of trouble for many people, and has done nothing, absolutely nothing, for which she deserves thanks. A stupid, useless creature.
And Guyon... Well, look at her, the savior. He is a wonderful person. Much better than she is. Smarter, kinder, calmer, more noble. More patient, too. He steadfastly endured all the hardships that fate threw at him. Handsome, strong, agile, with a sense of humor... He deserves the very best in life. He definitely doesn't need a wife like her.
He doesn't need anyone like her around him at all.
Breathe in, breathe out. Yes, he probably hates her now. Just hiding his feelings, as usual. Idiot. He could have said it to her face at least once. Idiot... Why does he pretend he cares about the wedding, that they will still live in the same room? One of them will probably have to leave Carneol. Most likely, her. The team will get more use out of him. He surpasses her in absolutely every aspect. Maybe now misfortune will pass him by when she's not around. She will leave. She'll help him hang the flags and then leave. She has no right to be near him, to breathe the same air as him. After what she did to him, she felt dirty and wrong, afraid of defiling him with her mere presence.
They returned to the house in silence, silently dragged the safe into their room. Into Guyon's room, she corrected herself, helping him hang the flags on the walls. For some reason, he was asking her how best to arrange them... As if she even cared. As if she would be staying here.
Finished with the flags, she knelt before the safe and began carefully arranging things inside. Guyon handed her his curved swords, a textbook... The veil — what a fool, he had kept it all this time, it looked like new — and the ring. She put the veil in the far corner, placed both ring boxes on it. Finally, she took out the dress.
From the bundle, clattering, fell the collar.
A stupid, tasteless joke from Alice... Back at the atelier, she said nothing so as not to upset the dressmaker. She had clearly tried hard, put in a lot of effort, and the dress was simply wonderful in every other aspect. But now... Before she knew about the curse, she would have been the first to laugh. She might even have suggested Guyon wear it. But after that revelation, she had almost completely rooted out all her usual jokes from their conversations. She tried to keep a straight face around Guyon — she saw that it upset him. And sometimes, out of old habit, she couldn't help saying something about chaining him to the bed or some similar nonsense. But she tried her best to eradicate that behavior.
And now all of that doesn't matter anymore.
Putting the dress in the safe, she squeezed the collar so hard that her knuckles turned white. Throw it away, destroy this stupid, useless thing! A reminder of what the person she loves more than anything in life has been through! Loves, still loves with all her evil, black, useless stone that she has instead of a heart! She would do anything for him. She would disappear from his life forever, make sure he never remembers her. If he wants to gut her, as he said about his previous owners — she won't even squeak. He has every right to do so. After everything she has done for everyone and for him in particular...
Over her hand, trembling with tension, lay another familiar and dear palm. It gently stroked, unclenching her clenched fingers.
Guyon carefully pulled the collar from Beata's fist, straightened it. And placed it in the safe on top of the dress.
- My mistress must have completely forgotten that she promised to chain me to the bed, m? - he said quietly, leaning towards her.
Mistress. She had forbidden him to call her that a few days after that confession. It had seemed funny to her when she thought he was just really getting into the role. But when she learned that this was truly how he felt, the world he lived in... That word made her feel sick and disgusted.
Why is he calling her that now?
- I... I take that promise back. I'm not going to chain you to anything.
- And why?
- You said it yourself — you realized what kind of person I am, remembered how I treated you.
- Yes. The euphoria is gone, and over the day while we were walking, I had a lot of time to think and remember everything properly. I haven't fully digested or understood it all yet, but I've already picked out the most important thing.
- And? - Beata closed her eyes, ready for the verdict.
- As if you don't understand yourself.
- I understand everything, - she said in a defeated voice, - except for one thing. Why are you sitting next to me on the floor holding my hands?
- Because I love you?
- You love me? For what...
- For your kindness and patience. For your willingness to spend a lot of effort and resources on me, for putting my health above your adventures. For a kind of fierce care that borders on overprotectiveness. For your readiness to tear anyone apart for me. For letting me have my own opinion. For loving me as I was — a powerless slave and a pathetic loser.
- You're not like that... You're wonderful. You're the best. But I...
- But you are as sharp as a whip, you get angry and yell at everyone like a mad dog over the slightest thing, you have a heavy hand, terminal stupidity and recklessness, you almost never think about the consequences, you charge like a locomotive towards adventures and gush with a whole spectrum of emotions so much that my head hurts for half the day afterwards. Is that the kind of rebuke you were expecting from me?
- Well... - "Worse. Much worse..."
- Well, there you have it. Yes, you are like that. You are far from ideal. My parents wouldn't have let you near me with a ten-foot pole, but you know what? That's exactly why I don't want to remember them. You would never have been good enough for them, even if you were the Princess's own sister! Gods, I was never good enough for them either! Can you believe that the first praise and first words of support in my life came from you? Do you understand that after the curse was lifted, I appreciated that gesture even more? You weren't obligated to do it. I was completely in your power, we had only known each other for a couple of days, you didn't even know my name, I was just some random slave to you — and you still found words of support for me.
- Well, it's just... I figured it wouldn't hurt. I know what it's like when no one praises you and everyone just nags and reproaches you. My parents forgot I existed, in the circus I was a burden and an extra mouth, even when I was slaving away at performances ten hours a day... I never had anyone. I was always on my own. I saw how other people had families, children, parents, loved ones, how they were always ready to help each other, and I was always extra and unwanted. I think I was just jealous of all of them. Without even realizing it. And that jealousy turned into anger. But you... I didn't want to be angry at you. There was nothing to be angry about. And you were mine. My responsibility, I guess? Because it's... logical?
- And you decided to give me what you yourself were deprived of?
- It turns out, yes, - she shrugged.
- Now look me in the eye and say what you wanted to say about yourself before I interrupted you.
Beata firmly gripped Guyon's hands and looked into his eyes.
- I... I... - "Bad, terrible, unwanted, I ruin everything, cause everyone pain..." - I... Not very good?
- You grew up alone, unwanted, without love, care, or attention, and you still chose to give support to another person who was completely dependent on you at that moment.
- But everything I did... Before and after... Including with you...
- I consider that episode the most telling. And I could give plenty of others. You are not a maniac. You are not a sadist. You are not a bad person. You are a person who has made a huge number of mistakes. And a person who managed to do something very right. Since we arrived in Margel, you make fewer and fewer mistakes and do the right thing more and more often. And I am very happy about that. Because...
He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. He looked up at her.
- Because you are still my mistress, and I am your... If you don't like "slave," let it be "servant." Now you cannot forbid me from calling you that. Now I can decide for myself what our relationship will be like. For the past couple of months, you've been treating me like I'm made of glass. Do you think I didn't notice? Every day I regretted telling you about that damned curse!
- I would have found out anyway... Today.
- Today. When it would be too late to change anything or regret anything.
- Still, I...
- I've missed your jokes about tying me to the bed. And your bossiness. And many other things... - he kissed her hand.
- But you...
- I insist, my mistress.
Guyon finally let go of Beata's hand and brought his face close to hers. He stroked her cheek, smiled. Then their lips met in a kiss.
She didn't object when he led her to the bed...



That's me, spending half the evening writing a post, crying my eyes out, and ignoring my studies.