"He cried some nights, you know." Athanasia stands at the grave and her gaze traces over the engraved name on the marble.
"I see."
The aged empress gives her a side glance before snorting exasperatedly. "He never really loved my mother, he only had his first love in his heart after all."
Athanasia's hand pauses before continuing to brush off the dust on the edge. "...I see."
The empress sighed, almost exasperated with this girl that was over a century old, yet looked as if she were still fifteen.
"I came upon him one night when my brother was still the crown prince, and I was having my freedom taken away from me, one day at a time, and in that dark room in the shadows, he clutched violets in his arms and their petals littered the rug."
She finally sees Athanasia's movements still, and barrels on. "He wept whilst saying your name. Over and over and over."
Athanasia gazed at the flowers, thinking of his silver hair, his eyes like the sun, but also of another who would have wept the same as he.
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