A dark shadow begins to flood the horizon.
The sun disappears within its coil and the sky fades to black.
The world stops spinning, and the war seizes.
Then comes the black soot, falling down like flower petals from the darkened clouds.
One by on...
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Aillard hadn't uttered a single word as his wound on his shoulder was being carefully stitched by the physician. The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional sound of the hooked needle threading into the skin as the physician worked. Aillard's face remained stoic, betraying no sign of pain or discomfort while he stared aimlessly at the wooden floor of the room.
Aillard's mind wandered, his thoughts consumed by the events that had led him to this moment. Her cold, icy blue eyes stared down at him. There was no emotion in her eyes except for a few glints of disappointment with what had happened just then. However, the unfamiliarity he sensed in her was unsettling. He couldn't quite place what he was seeing, but it was as if he had never truly known her at all, not in those eyes he had seen.
She didn't seem like the lady he once knew. Her demeanour was cold and distant; she didn't act or like the things she once did. It's as if she had become a completely different person overnight. He wondered if something had changed within her or if he had simply been blind to who she truly was all along. The realisation left him feeling a sense of loss and confusion, as if the person he thought he knew had vanished without a trace. He wondered what could have caused such a drastic change in her behaviour.
"I'm just sick of everything and everyone." He suddenly came to recall what Diana had spoken of two nights ago. Her words echoed in his mind, adding another layer of complexity to his disorientation. He couldn't help but wonder if Diana's statement held a deeper meaning and if it was somehow connected to the sudden changes he had witnessed in her.
Is this what she meant?
But this doesn't explain the unnatural incident of how she was able to come between him and Thomas like that. With a blade held perfectly against the sword of Sir Thomas and her stance rivalling his in all matters of perfection, however, how Diana was able to take his dagger from his belt without him being aware and then to reach him so quickly to block Thomas' sword from slicing his arm off was far beyond his knowledge. Her agility was quicker than anything he had ever seen before; it was like she appeared besides him out of thin air. For someone who had only just started sword practice, he began to doubt that Diana was just a beginner.
Could she have taken secret training without anyone knowing? Perhaps she had a hidden mentor who had taught her the art of sword fighting in secret, but knowing Diana, who had wanted to train her except for him?
And why did she hide her skill, pretend to not know anything about combat at all, and indulge in the idea of having him train her?
What could be the reason?
Was it perhaps Marcus?
Aillard's uninjured hand had subconsciously fisted from the rage and hatred he felt just by thinking of that scum of a Duke who put his own flesh and blood through hell because of that slut and her mole rat of a daughter, Ariana.
