Hello! I apologise for not updating for so long, I've been really busy and unfortunately now some chapters will be a lot shorter :( Nevertheless, here's Chapter 12 and I hope you'll enjoy it!

Trigger warning for suicide - nothing explicit but there are mentions. If this is triggering for you, please let me know and I will do my best to change the plot.

Thank you for reading!


"To my beloved King and Queen…"

Those six words, written not in Jeanne's expected careful handwriting but in the barely legible scrawl of someone on the brink of insanity, leapt out at Francis as he held the parchment in his trembling hands. The servant who had brought him the letter shot his King a worried look but was dismissed and left the room quickly. The sound of the door closing made Francis inhale slowly, before he continued.

"Before I begin, I'd like to apologise for the suddenness of it all but I believe that my actions are justified by the safety of the people. I can only hope that you will be able to forgive this lowly Knight of yours and that my sacrifice will benefit the Kingdom, no matter how insignificantly."

The edges of the paper crumpled slightly under Francis' grip.

"After I was sent to the hospital, they tried everything on me but nothing worked. While lying in bed, I could feel myself losing it slowly as the pain got worse. I saw new patients entering the hospital every day but I never saw any leaving, save for when they were carried out on carts covered in white sheets. However, I still don't regret helping the people."

The words that followed after that were smudged and Francis' eyes scanned over them in desperation, as if his sight could reveal them.

"…knew my time was not far so I decided to do whatever I could to help the people before I ended up being another body carried out. My body grew weaker and weaker but I helped administer medicine in order to prevent more doctors from being infected."

More smudged words. Francis gave up.

"…I had killed someone. I had become a murderer in my insane fit, which I had absolutely no recollection of. The doctors started fearing me and they locked me up like what they do with those starting to lose themselves so as to prevent any further… "Incidents". I don't blame them. This disease… It's nothing like we have seen before. Before I was locked up, I helped talk to the patients who were locked away but after I started becoming dangerous, it was decided that I was in no state to help anyone at all. I felt useless and trapped, and sometimes I would black out only to wake up later realizing that I had clawed out my own hair. My moments of clarity became lesser and lesser, and I felt miserable. Marcus came to visit me once, and I attacked him. I attacked my pupil and from then on I decided that was it."

The words became briefly straighter, regaining their loops and curves, as if their writer had had a clear moment of decision.

"One of the nurses has been particularly kind to me. She was the one who secretly opened the door for Marcus so we could talk. Her name is Mei and I sincerely hope that this disease will not lay its hands on her, like what it did to me. Whenever Mei delivers my food, she always makes the effort to make conversation and I think she has grown to understand me and I have grown to know her too. I asked her to bring me a bottle of poison and that bottle is sitting at my feet as I write. I told her it was to kill the rats that have been sneaking into my room through a hole in the wall and she agreed. Part of me believes she knew that there was no hole and no rats all along, but she had understood.

I thank you both, Your Majesties, for allowing me to serve the Kingdom as a humble Knight and recently, a mentor to the other Knights. However, I am unable to carry out my duties anymore given my ailing health and I have decided, in order to prevent myself from harming others in my fits of insanity, to take my own life. When I joined the Knights of Diamonds, I was willing to die for the Kingdom and for the people. Today, my will is still as strong as ever. This disease has claimed many lives, but it shall not claim mine. I will pull myself from its clutches and emerge victorious – let this be my final victory, a victory I will gain for the Kingdom. If there is indeed, another life for me, I hope I will be able to serve the Kingdom again but for now, I bid you farewell, and may I be forgiven for my sins."

That was it. A single tear cascaded down Francis' cheek and smudged the messy signature at the bottom of the letter.

The edges held under his thumb were further crumpled mercilessly, as the King experienced inner turmoil – a thousand emotions overcame his heart and the words of a woman he still loved kept on replaying themselves again and again in his head. He could almost hear her voice, the familiar teasing lilt it had whenever she was in battle now gone and replaced with the utter seriousness and urgency of someone who knew she had little time left. He could hear her reciting the words he had just read, adding a double blow to his already aching soul.

Jeanne was gone. Jeanne, whom everyone had known as a strong and fierce warrior and whom Francis had fallen head over heels for the day he saw her with a wooden sword, all poised and gracefully deadly, was gone from the world and all that remained of her were a few memories of the way she smiled, the way she walked and the way she was always putting the world before herself.

Francis sank into his chair, and let the chaos in his heart out. He cried into his own arms as he rested his head onto the table, not caring about whether his sobs could be heard or whether any servants would come running in to see their usually prideful King reduced to such a mess. His wonderful, beautiful Jeanne was gone and though she never loved him, he still felt that a part of his soul had just been taken away by those nasty words on the parchment. He wanted to believe that those words were written in handwriting that was not truly Jeanne's, but that rather belonged to the extended claws of the disease that ebbed away the Knight's life.

But the tone was unmistakable. It was the tone of someone who was loyal and selfless, someone whose last thoughts had remained solely on the greater good of the Kingdom, someone who could only be Jeanne.

"I will pull myself from its clutches and emerge victorious".

Francis had cried for an hour before he realized that the disease had failed to take her away, after all.

Jeanne had won.


Gahh that was a bit abrupt. :( Do leave a review/favourite/follow if you liked my story! :D