Nobles

Ch. 18: Make or break time

He had been there for four days and done absolutely nothing constructive. He had gotten some work done, but not done any of the things he would usually do. He knew he only had himself to blame.

In Switzerland, he had plenty of friends he could meet up with for dinners or just a coffee, he did not want to. Reki was restless and bored, he wanted to go home, there were so many things he needed to get done at home.

But he had one thing he needed to do there before he could leave. The small package on the table in his hotel room had mocked him for days.

Chocolate pralines, beautifully wrapped. Reki had been to the most exclusive shops looking for chocolates, he had not been sure if he should go extravagant or stay with Skylar's suggestion and buy what he knew Octavia liked. He had chosen the ones he knew she liked, though he had asked to get them wrapped like it was the more exclusive ones.

Skylar had better be right, or he would be making an ass of himself.

Reki sighed and took out his wallet.

In the room behind his credit cards he found one of his most treasured possession. A faded picture of Octavia taken on her eighteenth birthday over ten years earlier.

He let his thumb glide over her face as he had done so many times over the years. The picture he had been keeping with him, and it never failed to give him comfort.

It did not matter if he had been in England, in Switzerland, in a hut in Carashi, or some ditch somewhere else in Maridioch, all he had to do was take out that picture and he knew exactly why he was fighting.

But now there was no more fighting, they had won.

It was a hollow victory. He had thought that peace would have given him the one thing in life he had always wanted, but she was as unobtainable as ever.

It was not like he had expected her to fall in his arms and thank him for his part in winning the war, he had hoped that she would have noticed and perhaps thought better of him. Reki was aware he had not won the war on his own and would never take credit for it, he just wished that Octavia would recognize his part in it and what he had given to get her her life back.

Of course, he had fought for his country, for the way of life he remembered, vindication for his father, and because it was the right thing to do after all Philo and his parents had done for him. If he had to be honest, he had done it all for her.

He had been shot four times, stabbed twice, and fallen off his horse countless times, resulting in broken bones. His body was a map of injuries, something he feared would disgust her if she ever got to see it. His scars were not beautiful or sexy, they were an ugly map of the life he had led. Maybe Octavia did not want a broken toy with some wear and tear.

His worst injury was a bullet to the shoulder, something that still bothered him occasionally seven years after the fact. He had been scouting an area with Philo and two others when they had been spotted and chased. Orsen had been hit and Philo who had tried to help him got cornered, they were about to shoot Philo when he had jumped in and taken the bullet.

The confusion had given Mark time to get the upper hand and shoot the soldiers from the militia. Reki had been lucky, he knew that. He had jumped in, knowing it could have been the last thing he did. The bullet could easily have shattered his shoulder blade, or it could have killed him.

He had lost some mobility in his left arm, but all things considered that was a small sacrifice for keeping Philo alive and to spare Octavia the grief of losing her brother.