He never talked when he visited her grave. He never found a need to. They had rarely talked when she was alive, and he saw no need in talking to a lifeless corpse buried several feet underground. He merely stood there, watching the sun reflect off her name, engraved neatly within the white stone.
A single purple flower dropped from his armored hand in front of the marble headstone that marked her grave. He had plucked it earlier from the fields outside of Prontera, when his thoughts flew to her upon seeing a plant of such tasteless color and design. He found himself doing that a lot lately. Thinking about her, that is. Perhaps it was because ever since her death, everything in the world seemed just like her - tasteless. In the 40 some years of his life, he had gone through what an average man experiences in two lifetimes. Not that he believed in reincarnation or anything of the sort.
If he didn't bear such a striking resemblance to his deceased twin, perhaps things could have ended up different. Perhaps he could have been smiling right now, while another man mourned over the loss of his loved one at the exact spot he was currently standing in. Perhaps she wouldn't have died the way that she did.
He turned to the grave beside hers, but didn't allow his gaze to rest on the gray headstone for too long. He already knew the name engraved on it.
Caelius Riveira
Not even his own parents were able to differentiate between their own sons. It was Callius' body that lay decomposing underneath the dirt, after all, and not his. Still, it didn't matter to him. At least, not anymore. He was only forced to live underneath his brother's name for as long as she remained living - in other words, he was Callius Riveira for nearly six years.
Caelius knew that out of everyone in all of Rune Midgard, she was the only one who had known of his survival and Callius' death. Still, like the demure, tasteless creature she was, she never uttered a word. She went along with the plans made by their fathers, and married him. He had done more than replace the man who led Prontera's 7th Cavalry; he had replaced the man who took her fragile heart with him to his grave.
Despite knowing that it was Caelius, not Callius, that she had married; despite knowing that it was Caelius, not Callius, whose child she had borne; despite knowing that it was Caelius, not Callius, in everything that had happened, she never complained. And Caelius never did anything to try and capture her heart, nor did he ever think about giving his own.
He remembered dreading public occasions, where they were called out and forced into displaying little signs of love for their fathers' sakes. He remembered the tasteless and dreary kisses they were goaded into making, and how disgusted they had made him feel. He remembered how he always used to inch as close to the edge of the bed as possible, so as not to touch her as they slept.
However, as he thought about her more and more, he found himself being immersed in regret. He found himself recalling memories of their public displays of affection with a fondness that he had never felt before. He found himself touching his lips, trying to remember the feel of her soft lips when she leaned in for a tasteless kiss.
He knew he missed her, if only because the household became too quiet with the absence of the offspring that had left with her death. He knew he missed her, if only because there was nothing left to like, nothing left to hate, and nothing left to crave. The one wish he had constantly made upon falling stars, fountains, and the likes had come true; she was gone forever.
He just didn't expect himself to regret his actions as much as he did now.
"A lot of people think that this flower is bland compared to other ones… but let me tell you, young man, that this is bluebell is one of the meaningful flowers to exist. It expresses regret, grief, and a longing for whoever receives this flower. Honestly, I would say that this is the most thoughtful flower to give to someone as an apology… especially if it's someone you love."