14. The importance of things that cannot be recovered
After the birth of her son, Claudia's life barely changed from how it was before - except that besides her work as the Queen's Watchdog she took care of her son who was by now seven months old. It wasn't always simple to take care of a child, run a company, and work as the Queen's Watchdog, but every time her son smiled at her she felt that the strain was worth it. Still, her maid's support was a great relief. Without her caring for the boy at night from time to time, Claudia would have gotten no sleep whatsoever.
Despite his busy schedule, her husband did his best to look after Vincent as well. After all this time, it was still strange to see them together. After all, she knew that the boy he held was not his son but Cedric's. Of course, her husband didn't suspect a thing. He loved the boy and Vincent would grow up believing that he was his father, so she appreciated his kindness. Yet, looking at her husband still left an unpleasant taste in Claudia's mouth. In her heart, she had never accepted being his wife and she likely never would. Every time she looked at him she wished that things had been different – not only for her sake but also for his. He was not a bad person. He was kind and caring and deserved someone who didn't react to every kind of affection with nothing but barely concealed repulsion. Precisely because he was a good person and didn't find joy in acting against her will, her repulsion kept him at a distance. Their marriage was a horrible farce: They were bound to hurt each other for the rest of their lives, because she couldn't bear him and he was stuck with her. But she had not chosen this path on her own volition and to this day, she cursed the Queen for getting involved in her life like this. No matter what, Claudia would never stop fighting against this bond that had been forced on her. She would always only love Cedric.
After she had recovered from giving birth and everything had settled down, it became easier for her to visit Cedric again. On the other hand, for him to see his son was dishearteningly difficult. There was no believable reason to take a baby to a funeral parlour and even when he attended the meetings at the Phantomhive Manor he could barely ever lay an eye on his son. Vincent was usually in the care of Claudia's maid or husband when she was working. He could not just hold him or play with him like he would have liked to. So instead he started to use the abilities he possessed as a Grim Reaper to sneak into the Manor at night, depriving himself of sleep just so he could watch over his son's sleep, soothe him when he woke up crying or silently play with him when Vincent decided that the night was over at four or five o'clock in the morning. It was the only way for him to spend time with his child, so he used every opportunity there was. Claudia had never been this glad that she and her husband had agreed on separate bedrooms and he never entered hers.
Of course, this could not go on forever. Gradually, they realized that Vincent was growing up and his awareness of those around him increased with every passing day. Soon, he would learn to speak his first words and start to address the people who cared for him. At some point it would become too risky for Cedric to visit his son at night. The danger of Vincent learning his name and giving away what nobody could know would soon become too great. And even though Cedric would not object once it was time, she knew that he would suffer miserably – and so would she. Nothing was ever simple for them.
Claudia was writing down notes as she was silently dreading what was to come soon. The smoke of Lady Doyle's cigarettes gradually filled her study, but at this point Claudia's lungs had become mostly used to the intrusion of this pungent smoke. At least for as long as she was distracted. They were waiting for Cedric to arrive so they could make final touches to her plans on how to catch the culprits of the case they had worked on for more than a month. Lord Curd was busy today so he couldn't attend the meeting and Claudia didn't find herself being all too regretful about it.
"Concern…"
Claudia looked up at Lady Doyle questioningly as she blew this single word into the room along with another plume of smoke. "Excuse me…?"
The elderly lady smiled. "Concern. Worry. It's radiating from you, slowly filling up the room and rising to the ceiling…" She exhaled deeply. "Just like smoke."
Claudia frowned slightly and threw a glance at the notes on the table. "It's impossible to rule out all the risks, but now that we finally gained the background information we needed the planned initiative will most likely succeed."
Lady Doyle chuckled to herself. "But that is not what you are worried about," she stated confidently.
"… What would I worry about then?" Claudia inquired, her eyes slightly narrowed as she eyed Lady Doyle.
She giggled to herself, twisting the cigarette between her fingers. "Your family. Your son. Your husband. The father of your child."
Slowly, the frown on Claudia's forehead deepened. What was she getting at? "My family is fine. My son is healthy and growing well and my husband is in good health too."
Lady Doyle blew another plume of smoke across the room, finding and holding her gaze. The expression in her usually dazed grey eyes was suddenly sharp and clear. "When I said the father of your child… I was not talking about your husband."
For a moment, Claudia forgot how to breathe. First, she felt heat rising in her body and then cold creeping into her bones. She opened her mouth, but no words came to her. How…?
Lady Doyle laughed at her expression. "He's an interesting man. Odd. Strange. Amusing. You love him, he feels the same. I wouldn't blame you." She fell silent and crooked her head. "Thinking of murdering me, Countess?"
"…" Claudia was sure she hadn't said anything out loud, but her guess had been accurate. The thought had just crossed her mind.
Slowly, Claudia put the pen aside and took a deep breath. Even though she forced herself to stay calm on the outside, her fingers were shaking ever so slightly. "How do you know?"
The elderly woman started to laugh as if Claudia had just told her a splendid joke. It took a few moments before she calmed down once more, taking a puff of her cigarette. "People keep talking all the time even when they don't." She smirked. "But don't worry, my dear, nobody else noticed. Ordinary people don't listen to the subtle chattering surrounding them."
How did she notice? Was it the way she looked at him? The way they behaved around one another? Did she notice Claudia spent more time with him alone than with any other informant? What was it? What has given them away?
In the end, it doesn't matter though, does it? Nothing could be done about it anymore. She had already figured it out.
"Why did you tell me about it?" Claudia demanded, her voice cold and harsh. "Even though you know that I would consider murdering you for the information you possess?"
Lady Doyle simply smiled. "I thought it was interesting." She deeply inhaled the cigarette smoke she had just blown out. "You could stand up and shoot me right now and nobody would doubt you if you said I just dropped dead. Your lover would bury my corpse and I'd take your secret to the grave." She smiled once more. "But you are you. And you wouldn't do it. In your heart, you don't mistrust me."
Claudia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Lady Doyle was right. Of course she was. She always was and precisely that was the problem. She was too observant for her own good. And not only that… She was clever and daring. Just coming out and telling her what she had learned… how foolish. Testing the waters and tempting the devil.
Claudia narrowed her eyes at her. "Be sure, should you raise my suspicions even in the slightest…"
Lady Doyle giggled. "You will have me biting the dust and nobody will ever know what happened." A twisted smirk remained on her lips as she put the cigarettes between her lips. "I understand that much, Countess Phantomhive."
A bitter smile pulled at Claudia's lips. "For your own good, don't challenge me any further, Lady Doyle. I am not someone to be trifled with. I'd destroy you in the blink of an eye."
"Oh, I won't," She cooed in response, taking another puff from her cigarette. "Just verifying my judgement."
Claudia pressed her lips together to a thin line. "Hmph."
I don't like this. I don't like it at all. Still, she hesitated to kill one of her most important informants. It was true: She didn't mistrust her per se. But the knowledge she had gained about her – about them - posed a threat to her very existence. In the end, she was the Queen's Watchdog and just like her ancestors she could be cold and cruel even if she didn't like it. Claudia would not hesitate to order Lady Doyle's death should she have the slightest doubts about her loyalties. She would allow nobody to interfere with her – especially not on this matter.
Claudia heard Cedric's fingernails scratching over the wooden door when he knocked. As usual, he entered without waiting. After they exchanged greetings he slumped into a chair and grinned up at her. Lady Doyle's eyes sparkled knowingly as she met her gaze.
God damnit, Claudia cursed inwardly. No indeed, she did not like this at all.
But for now, she had to push these thoughts aside. She would have more than enough time to think about this later, after they were finished here. They had gathered to approve the planned initiative and it was about time they finally caught the culprits of the recent cases of murder. She had been on the heels of these criminals for over a month now. The Queen had grown more impatient by the day and Claudia couldn't afford more failure.
During the past weeks, many nobles and middle-class families had been murdered in cold blood, including their servants and every living being residing in their houses and mansions. Even though Claudia had been investigating for weeks she had been unable to prevent the murders or catch the culprits. At first, she had thought they were about drug dealing, illegal weapons or human trafficking organisations but no matter how deeply she had looked into the matter, there had been no connections. Three other families got killed in the meantime. It had taken unnecessarily long for her to find out the motive behind the murders. Hate and the desire for revenge, harboured for so many centuries that neither Claudia nor any of her informants had been able to reveal the connections. It still was a mystery to her how people could inherit the hate of their ancestors and grow insane enough to go as far as to take revenge on the children of people who were long since dead.
After they had finally figured out their motive, it hadn't been hard to guess which family would likely be targeted next. This time, she would catch them red-handed and dispose of every single one of them.
After she had finished her explanations about the procedure she had chosen, she looked up. She waited for comments or a voice of dissent, but neither Lady Doyle nor Cedric said anything.
"Good," she continued, twisting the pen between her fingertips. "In that case, we're done with this matter. I will have Lord Curd informed later this day for his men will participate in the assault. Three more days until this chapter will finally be closed."
Lady Doyle exhaled deeply, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. "Eradication, is it? Effective but ruthless."
Claudia put the notes aside. "I'm just making sure we dispose of all the scum. We already lost too much time, I cannot afford to let even a single one of them escape."
"Thorough and vicious," Lady Doyle commented while she slowly got up and started to move towards the door. A high-pitched giggle echoed through the room as she turned around and lit yet another cigarette. "No doubt. A plan befitting the Queen's dog."
She opened the door and looked back one more time, meeting Claudia's gaze. Lady Doyle smirked, her normally dazed eyes clear and gleaming. She pursed her lips and they formed one silent word: "Woof."
Claudia did not respond. She watched the door fall closed and kept her gaze locked on the dark wood, boiling on the inside. This insufferable…
A few moments later, Cedric's fingernail gently slid along her jawline. By now, he was standing next to her.
"There is murder all over your face, my dear." He commented, that everlasting grin plastered on his lips.
"She knows," Claudia answered, her gaze pinned to the closed door. "She knows about us."
Slowly, Cedric pulled his hand back and crooked his head, thinking. "Does she now?" He smiled, but his voice sounded more serious than usual. "I'm not surprised. She's way more observant than others. I wondered if she'd figure it out someday."
Claudia huffed in irritation and shook her head. No. She was definitely not pleased with this.
"So, what is it you're gonna do now?" Cedric asked and Claudia turned her head to meet the gaze of his yellowish green eyes. "Considering killing her?"
"… I don't know," Claudia admitted. She did not want to kill her. But Lady Doyle was getting quite cocky lately – and not only today. She was a useful informant, but she knew way too much for her own good. The real question was if she would ever use this knowledge against her. Claudia could not let her, neither of them could. "What do you think?"
Cedric thought for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think she'll pose much of a danger to us. She appears to enjoy ticking you off though." While talking he stepped around her chair and loosely wrapped his arms around her neck from behind. He bent down before he whispered the next words into her ear. "She's enjoying this little game, I suppose. But it's a risky game she's playing, isn't it?" He laughed to himself. "Sometimes I forget that you are quite murderous."
A frown spread on her forehead and she tried to meet his gaze. "I'm not murderous."
"Is that so~?" She heard the grin on his lips as he let go off her and stepped in front of the desk once more. Casually, he took her notes and eyed them. "Well. It looks like not a single one of the family that will get targeted next will survive. I'm sure you know that."
"It is my job to capture the culprits and if I were any less strict in my advance, we likely won't catch all of them," She answered seriously. "This has been going on for way too long. The Queen is getting more impatient by the day. This is just math."
Cedric dropped the paper on the desk and – to her surprise – made to walk towards the door. Claudia's frown deepened and she looked up at him in confusion as he moved away. The smile on his lips remained, but something felt wrong about it.
"You hold great power," He stated, his bright eyes never leaving hers. The atmosphere in the room had changed. "And that is why… You are beginning to fail to understand the importance of those things that cannot be recovered."
She opened her mouth, but no reply came to her. The importance of things that cannot be recovered?
He looked back at her for a moment longer, the expression in his beautiful eyes unfamiliar and piercing. Then, without another word, he turned to leave her study. The door quietly clicked shut behind him. And with that, he was gone.
Claudia just kept staring at the dark wood with a mixture of shock and confusion. What had just happened? He had never before left like this. Even though she had known him for such a long time she couldn't read his mind. But she felt… scolded. Was he angry with her? Disappointed?
The importance of those things that cannot be recovered, she repeated the words he had left her with. Her gaze dropped to the papers lying in front of her, her eyes skipping over the words she had written down earlier. Am I losing sight of what's important?
The approach she had chosen to catch the culprits was certainly a death sentence for the family that was about to get attacked. Nobody would be there to help them. Instead, she had made sure that every single one of the culprits would enter the mansion and no one would leave it alive. Including the woman who would be targeted first. Including her husband, their three children and the servant who worked in the household. She would ruthlessly sacrifice the lives of six people to catch a group of murderers.
Her fingers traced the words as she remembered the day she had invited Undertaker for a walk into the woods. She remembered the flowers they had picked for that little girl's funeral. She also remembered how terrible she had felt for her.
I'm a hypocrite, she thought to herself. The thought sank in heavily and yet felt strangely right. Judging people for their crimes, mourning the death of their victims and yet letting six innocent people die without a second thought. Isn't not trying to save them the same as killing them?
In the end, she couldn't deny that there was truth in what Cedric has said to her. Looking at her notes made her realize, that yes, she was murderous. And yes, maybe the amount of power she possessed made her blind to the fate of these innocent people, whose death sentence she had just signed. Killing one, five, twenty people and more took her merely one letter, a single order. Had she become so used to giving those orders that she didn't even think about it anymore? Didn't even shy away from death in the slightest anymore? Not even the sacrifice of innocent citizens? Innocent children?
She liked to think that she was righteous – better than her father - but in truth she wasn't. This was just as cruel, ruthless and arrogant as everything her father had done in the past. And hadn't she wanted to do things differently? When had she become like this? When had she stopped caring about the lives of the people she had sworn to protect by becoming the Queen's Watchdog?
I'm turning into a monster. Her father had once told her that this was the burden that came with the name of Phantomhive and yet, she couldn't accept it. Not even now that she had realized that she was well on the way to becoming one as well.
She spent the rest of the day locked up in her study, bent over her papers, pondering until her head felt like it was ready to explode. She left her desk only to eat, but realized that she didn't have an appetite. When it was time to retire to bed, she took the papers with her and put them on the desk in her bedroom. She lay down only to get up after ten minutes of trying to fall asleep, returning to her desk and spending another few hours pondering over the same sentences, crossing them and writing new ones only to cross them again. Eventually, she fell asleep on top of her desk.
When she heard someone calling her, she was sure it was morning again and her maid had entered her room to wake her up only to find her sleeping on her desk. But as she opened her eyes, she realized it was still deepest night. It was dark and cold. She was shaking slightly as she pushed herself up, her papers sticking to her cheek for a second before they fell down on the desk.
She blinked, still in a daze. The first thing she noticed was a grave headache that had formed at the front of her head. And god, she was freezing. She hadn't put on anything over her thin sleeping gown. Apparently, she had been too taken in by pondering over the planned initiative to actually notice how cold the air around her had become. On top of that, she had somehow managed to fall asleep in the process. How many hours had she been sleeping in this cold?
"Claudia?" This was not her maid's voice.
She touched her forehead, pain blooming in her head and looked up to find Cedric standing next to her desk. There was not even the trace of a smile on his face and his eyes were covered by the long silvery bangs.
"Oh," she managed, getting up from the chair. Her muscles ached with every movement. "I must have fallen asleep." Just as she had spoken the words she already felt stupid. As if it hadn't been obvious.
Claudia aimlessly walked up to her bed, unsure of what she had even meant to do there. She shivered and had to try very hard to stop her teeth from starting to chatter. She looked around for her dressing gown and when she couldn't see it anywhere nearby she just sat down on the edge of her bed and endured the cold silently. She had no idea what to say.
"… You're revising your plans." Cedric noticed.
She heard the papers rustling as he read them, but didn't bother to turn to look at him. She just sat there with her hands folded and her arms shaking from the cold.
"Why did you decide to change it?" He asked after a few more moments, his voice noticeably softer than usual.
Claudia couldn't help but laugh even though she found nothing funny about his question. "I just realized that I am a murderous monster." She examined her fingers while she spoke. "And I never wanted to be one."
Silence fell over them. She didn't know when she had become this gruesome. She was downright disgusted with herself. When she thought about the family, about the little children she had been about to sacrifice and her own son who was sleeping in her maid's room she felt sick.
Before she knew it, there were tears rising to her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but instead they started to silently pour down her cheeks. She closed her eyes, trying to pull herself together, but they just kept running, making her feel even more pathetic.
She was inclined to turn her head away, when she heard Cedric stepping closer, but the tears that kept dripping down her chin gave her away anyway. So instead, she just kept staring at her own hands, shivering from the cold with her lips pressed together to a thin line.
Wordlessly, he sat down next to her. She felt his gaze lingering on her face and after a few moments, he gently touched her shaking arm. "You will catch a cold."
Claudia felt a lump building in her throat at the sound of his voice that held so much kindness she felt she didn't deserve. Not now, not today. It took an almost inhumane effort to pull her shivering arm away from his merciful warm hand. "Don't be kind to me."
She hadn't really expected him to listen to her on this so she wasn't surprised, when he shifted closer and wrapped his arms around her shivering form in spite of what she had said. Yet she remained rigid like a statue, frozen in place.
"I'm a monster," She mumbled through her tears and knitted her eyebrows at the view of her own hands. Not for the first time today, she felt like the shadows the candlelight threw on them looked like blood.
"No, you're not," Cedric whispered in response, gently stroking her hair. "You've made a mistake and you blame yourself. That's not what makes anybody a monster. It's what makes us human."
Her lower lip started to tremble at his words and two more silent tears slid down her cheeks. Maybe he was right, but she still couldn't forgive herself. If he hadn't reacted the way he did, she might have just gone through with her plan, not even wasting a second thought on it. These people could have been dead if it hadn't been for him. What had she been thinking? Why hadn't she tried harder to find a better solution? Because the Queen had been nagging her? What a poor excuse.
Many thoughts were going through her mind, but she still couldn't produce any proper sentences, couldn't find anything to say. So in the end, she let her eyes fall closed and turned to wrap her arms around him after all, taking in the comfort and warmth he offered her despite the cruelty she had displayed. Sometimes, she could not wrap her head around him. He had been angry with her, disappointed, hadn't he? Yet, he had come to see her without question, was even willing to comfort her in her misery.
"Why did you come?" She mumbled against the fabric of his coat, tears still falling from her eyes. "I thought you were angry with me."
He kept silent for a moment before he answered, his voice soft and barely above a whisper. "I was never angry. I just wanted you to think about your decision, is all. And I see that you did – and reached the conclusion I had thought you would." He bent down a bit to press a gentle kiss on the top of her head before he continued quietly. "And I came tonight because I had a feeling you were already beating yourself up, so I didn't want to leave you alone."
She could not help but to smile through her tears. "You really are impossible," she managed and pulled back a bit to look at his face. With shivering fingers, she brushed his bangs aside and smiled at him tearfully. "Thank you."
He smiled back at her and gently wiped a few tears off her cheek. As his fingers touched her skin, his expression turned more serious. "You're chilled to the bone. Come, let's get you underneath the blanket."
She nodded in agreement, but didn't make any move to actually do so before Cedric had taken off his boots and his coats. She smiled a bit when she noticed that he was wearing the trousers of his pyjamas instead of the tight leather trousers he usually wore. In the meantime, she started to wipe her nose with a handkerchief, willing herself to stop crying with less success than she would have hoped. A few stray tears still escaped her eyes from time to time.
When Cedric had put his clothing under the bed, she followed him underneath the blanket, snuggling up to his warm, lean body. She sighed in relief when he wrapped his arms around her tightly, rubbing her back and her arms to warm her up. Nothing, not even a hot-water bottle, could keep up with the pleasant warmth of his body, both soothing and warming her. It didn't take long until she stopped shivering and relaxed into his embrace.
"Better?" He whispered against her hair. She could hear the gentle smile on his lips.
"Yes," she breathed and tightened her embrace to chase even the last bit of cold out of her body.
After they had fallen silent again, it didn't take long for her mind to drift off, recalling the events of the day. Not only the cruel initiative she regretted so deeply, but also the talk with Lady Doyle. And not just her telling Claudia that she had found out about Cedric and her, but also the thoughts that had plagued her earlier.
Her mind had barely touched the memory when she already felt her chest going tight with pain. Soon, Vincent would become too aware of those around him, would learn to speak his first words. Soon, Cedric would no longer be able to visit him without the danger of Vincent unconsciously giving them away.
She could have not said how he had noticed, but it wasn't long before Cedric pulled back a bit to meet her gaze. The smile on his lips had faded as he examined her features, his fingertip gently touching the turned down corner of her mouth and tugging it up a bit. This time, she didn't manage to smile.
He brushed his hand over her still wet check instead and gazed at her, searching her eyes, before he spoke softly. "What are you thinking about?"
She could not hold his gaze any longer so she avoided it and tried to say out loud what was plaguing her. But she couldn't. She could not say the words, could not even bear to mention it.
"Is it about Lady Doyle?" He asked quietly. "That she found out about us?"
Claudia took a deep breath and shook her head. "No…" She paused, still fighting for words. She knitted her brows in agony when she finally found her voice. "It's… It's about Vincent… He is growing up rapidly and…" She broke off again.
"Soon, I won't be able to see him anymore." Cedric finished her sentence quietly. Even though she noticed that he tried to maintain his composure, his voice was thin, as if he was barely able to speak the words.
Claudia let her eyes fall closed and nodded, swallowing. To hear him say it out loud hurt even more than the thought alone.
The silence in the room stretched on. Claudia knew that they didn't have much more time, that they needed to talk about this, but she couldn't bring herself to. If there had been a way to change it: She would have done anything to do so.
After maybe two minutes, Cedric exhaled slowly as if he was willing his voice to stay steady. "Can I… come to see him… one more time?"
Claudia looked up at him in shock, but his long bangs had fallen into his face and covered his eyes. This time, he was avoiding her gaze.
"Of course," She whispered brokenly, reached for his hand and gently stroked it with her thumb in a futile attempt to comfort him. Again, tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry," She managed with difficulty and started to wipe her tears only to have them replaced by new ones. "I shouldn't be the one – to cry. It's not me who-" She couldn't finish the sentence.
He opened his mouth and when he continued, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I will see him one more time, won't I? So… it's still too early for me to cry."
Despite what he had said, Claudia heard his voice quivered ever so slightly. The corners of his mouth were turned down and she knew that if she had been able to see his eyes, she would have seen him blinking away tears.
Every word of comfort she could have said sounded hollow in her own head, so the only thing for her left to do was tighten her embrace and hold onto him.
Why. Why does it have to be like this? They had always known that this day would arrive sometime, but now that it had come, Claudia could not bear it. Every kind of happiness they ever found was soon to be followed by pain. Nothing ever remained simple for them. For her, it was almost incomprehensible how much pain they had already gone through together since they had met - since they had fallen in love.
"I'm sorry." These were the first words she managed to choke out, her face pressed up against his chest. "If I hadn't…" She broke off. If she hadn't come to his parlour, had not fallen in love with him, had not asked for his name or kissed him and hadn't asked him to sleep with her… "I'm so sorry. For everything… I put you through." She had never ever meant to hurt him. But now…
She stilled and opened her clenched eyes when he rested his hand on the back of her head and pressed a long, loving kiss to her forehead.
"Don't be sorry." His voice was silent and when she listened closely, she could still hear the strain in it, but it was also warm and gentle. "I never regretted a single second of this. I am glad that I met you and grateful for every moment we spent together. I love you."
She let her eyes fall closed once more, one more tear escaping her eye and sinking into the fabric of his clothing. "And I love you. More than words could say."
They spent the night lying in each other's arms and seeking comfort in each other's presence. Sleep didn't come for either of them that night, so they tried distracting themselves from the horror that was soon to come by talking to each other.
When the night they had dreaded so much arrived, neither of them slept either. Cedric knelt next to Vincent's cradle for hours, watching over his sleep and Claudia remained by his side. The boy woke up especially early that night and Claudia wasn't sure if it was coincidence or if he had sensed their gazes. Cedric spent their remaining time playing with him like he had always done, in all those months that had passed up until now. Too soon, dawn arrived.
The next minutes were branded into Claudia's memories, pictures so painfully vivid that she relived them again and again for days and weeks. He had told her goodbye first. She had kissed him like she always did and had tried her best to hold back her tears as she had watched him walking up to his son's cradle.
Vincent was still awake and looked up at his father when Cedric bent over him and gently reached for his little hand that was just big enough to hold onto a single finger of his.
She remembered how he had bent down to press a long, gentle kiss to his son's forehead before he had pulled back to speak to him as a father for one last time.
"Even if I cannot come back to see you anymore," He whispered with his voice hoarse and nearly breaking. "I will always, always think of you. And I will love you forever." He choked up on the last words and his shoulders twitched with a mute sob. Claudia felt her heart breaking in her chest, like a glass vase that hit the floor and shattered.
He gazed at his son a moment longer and Vincent looked back at him with an expression that was both puzzled and distressed until slowly and gently, Cedric freed his finger from the tight clutch of his son's hand. Claudia would have liked nothing better than to run to his side and embrace him, to comfort him and cry with him. But she knew that he had to leave and if she embraced him now, he would break down on the spot.
In the end, he turned away from the cradle. Claudia saw tears running down his cheeks as he walked towards the balcony, but before she could change her mind, he disappeared into thin air. Gone, the final words he had left his son with still hanging in the air.
She barely managed to cover her mouth before she sobbed quietly, pressing her eyes shut while tears forced their way out anyway. She stopped and raised her head when Vincent started to cry in his cradle. She walked up to him to soothe him, but that night, he didn't stop crying, no matter what she tried. He was still a baby and maybe he couldn't express himself in words, but he had still felt the distress and despair of his parents. It was almost as if he had understood that he would not see Cedric again – not before he was old enough to meet Undertaker, one of the Evil Noblemen. But not as his father.
Shortly after she had got up and had forced herself to choke down a bit of the breakfast her servants had served, she had rushed to London, to Cedric's funeral parlour, to pick up the pieces his heart hat shattered into that night.