The Hundred Years' War (FrUK)

16

1435

Finally, a day with good weather. It felt as if the days were filled with continuous clouds, and it was becoming bothersome. I worked endlessly to get released from the grasp of England. To my dismay, years had passed, and I was still stuck. Only last year did he begin to trust me to have my own room, and that is when I amped up my plans to attack. The grief I had toward Jeanne has long passed. Time continues, and I must move on from the anguish I felt from her loss.

I spend most of my days by England's side with the company of his men watching from a distance. When I finally have my alone time, it is when I do the dirty work. Regarding the relationship I have with England...it is complicated. He spends his days repenting, showing me that he regrets everything he has done. Before I moved into my own room, I would wake in the middle of the night most nights to him praying for forgiveness.

My forgiveness...the forgiveness of Jeanne, and for the forgiveness of God. I ignore his cries and try to keep my head focused, as much as it has started to pain me upon hearing him.

All he knew was that I had given up and was now working for my forgiveness, but I could no longer do that. In truth, England was everything to me. Whether I try to deny or ignore it, he and I have gone through a lot together. We were part of each other, which hurts the most when we hurt each other. Although being close, we still find it within us to continue fighting. What is there left to do? Nothing! We were complex creatures in truth.

"What are you doing outside?" his voice suddenly spoke. I didn't try and turn to him. I was in an unstable mood today. As I try and fool him, I sometimes catch myself stuck in my lies, believing them. I do things to please him and throw him off to avoid raising suspicion, but I enjoy his company...as usual.

"I needed some air..."

"You seem to have been needing air much more lately. Are you okay?"

I turned to look at him. He was standing there in his stupid clothes. The English sure do lack a sense of style. "Why are you here?" I asked. England breathed out tiredly and began to look around. "I know you continuously decline my offer to go out with me...but I was wondering if today you might have had a change of heart..." He started.

We don't spend time alone...I figured that if we were to, I would drop my guard, and I would do everything in my power to avoid being in that situation. England began to breathe out deeply once more and took a seat beside me. "Why do you suddenly want to try? I don't understand you! I wish you would pick an emotion to be!" I spoke. England looked at me sadly and turned his head away, his nose pointing toward the ground. "I realize that not only have I decided to move on from my sinful feelings, but I also realize that the driving force behind my ways is from my King," he spoke.

I looked at him, confused; I could not believe what he was implying. "You would go against your King?" I asked.

"No...not my body...but my soul does...I don't want to fight anymore...so if you choose to fight back with revenge, I will..." he stopped. He looked behind us, toward some of the guards, and stood up. "What are you doing? You did not finish what you were going to say," I spoke. I watched as he stood in front of me. "Come with me...please...in private," he spoke. He reached out for me to take his hand, and I didn't move.

If he wanted to be alone for this discussion, I was sure he had something important to say. "Fine, but this has not been a trap to get me alone with you finally," I spoke, standing up. He smiled at me as our hands touched, shaking his head. "Of course not; I respect your wish to avoid being alone with me outside of our rooms...it would seem odd for us to sneak away like that," he spoke.

"Is that not what you are trying to do with me now?" I asked. I had wanted to laugh at his contradictory statements. He smiled awkwardly at me, and I felt that intense feeling again. "Well, do I have your permission, or must I run away with you?"