No answer was he able to say to the harsh woman whose gaze’s avoidance had frozen his mind roughly, mercilessly, with apparent despise as her voice that even if tremblingly weak… exhumed disdain from the depths and roots of her aching being to demand one last time… the answer he should give.
“What will it be. Archduke.”
Aslak’s silence… resounded throughout their chamber. Loudly while numbing his senses.
“…”
With an injured pride, the archduke who had kneeled before the sole one he deemed precious enough to forget his savage honour lowered his head with buzzing heaviness, and although he had begged with heartbroken tears, the love rooted to his very lung was now depriving him of the very little air her scent had briefly granted. Poisoning him… for the sweetness in its warmth was gone… for the woman could not offer such anymore.