Livia looked outside and then pressed her back to the wall, eventually sinking down to the floor. A week ago, she had been the powerful leader of House Ammoure, and now she was jumping at shadows. Then again, who knew when that strange girl could have attacked again. A tear ran down her cheek, a helpless, lonely tear. If Antonio were here, then it might have been a little better, but she couldn't run the risk of letting anyone know where she was hiding. "Antonio," she whispered between sobs. "Why couldn't you just be there when she attacked? Why did you have to leave me?" Although she could hear the answer being whispered on the wind, she would rather that he were there to embrace her and tell her that everything would be all right. But he wasn't, and her tears fell on the stone floor of the castle with no hand to wipe them away.
"Where is Jacques?" she wondered to herself. "Why hasn't he returned yet?" She could guess at what had happened to Jacques too, unfortunately. Being the annoying scamp that he was, he had probably gone off and irritated Mieuret. Jean Mieuret hated Jacques though, and she knew it. Only a parent could forgive a child for behaving like Jacques did, and she knew that her brother's best friend was no loving parent, unless he would father Mireille Bouquet's children? Oh well. It wouldn't matter once Les Fleurs de Mort were established in full. They were to make the cause of La Famille D'Ammoure their first and foremost duty. Any relationships were far behind the cause in priority.
With a heavy sigh, she looked up into the blackness that would eventually end in a vaulted stone ceiling. Antonio would have loved this place, with all its nostalgic beauty and the gardens that she had recently taken to caring for. Just as she was about to get up and go water her new flowers, Antonio walked up to her, staggering a little with fresh injuries. It was nothing major this time, but she still hated to see him getting hurt so often. "Antonio," she said fondly, standing up slowly. Tears still streaked down her cheeks: tears of loss, of renewed joy, and of an unfathomable anger at the person who had done all of this to them. "You're back Antonio. But how did you injure yourself so? I thought you had some claim to expertise, my brother." She said this lightly, and she didn't really mean it. Antonio laughed at her jovially and sat down with his back to the wall.
"Why have you been hiding, my dear sister?" he asked, his eyes half-lidded. "I thought that you once said that nothing could frighten the great Livia Ammoure. And here you are, hiding in a castle as if you're in a prison cell." Livia nodded and sank back to a sitting position. Rain started pouring down on them through the paneless windows, and she looked at her brother, his face drawn, and his beautiful dark curls plastered to his forehead with sweat and water combined. Streaks of rainwater ran down his face, mixing with the tears that had started to fall.
"Mieuret is attracted to Mireille," he said coolly. "This was never in our plans, Livia. When I hired him, I thought he didn't have the heart to love a woman like that. Now, what do we do? My Mireille has been taken by a friend, and I command myself daily, with all my power, not to feel jealous, not to kill my own friend because he gave her the love and concern that befitted her needs all along. Livia, I have little left, and the curtain on this insane performance must close soon. If I have nothing, then I will have no regrets when I die at her own hands." Livia gasped at his insane proposal and looked at him with fear in her liquid, honey-brown eyes.
"You cannot die, Antonio," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I have little left to live for Antonio, aside from les fleurs de mort, but you give me comfort. Don't go yet. I'm not ready to be alone." She pressed herself against him and cried furiously into his chest. How could he do this to her when they had looked out for each other for so many years? And now all of it was to end in death?
Antonio stood, and his sister stood with him, holding on for as long as she could, until he stooped low and gave her the French kiss. "You will never be alone," he said. "My spirit will be with you after my death, for death is never the end. It is just a beginning to a life in paradise." His head was raised upward, and rain mixed with the tears that flowed down his face. "I know that you have the heart to live on without me Livia, you just have to search for it. Besides, I have to apologize to Mireille before I can leave this world. There is no place left for me on this stage, and I must make my place in the audience." Livia cried into his chest, feeling his strong arms wrapped around her, in a final embrace. The next time she would see him in real life, he would be so cold, and she wanted to feel him now, while his warmth flowed into her like an endless river of life. To think that that river of life would soon be drained saddened her further, and she knew that without Antonio by her side, she could not complete the task that she was obligated to. It would be a waste of her life if he wasn't there to support and cherish her, to make her feel wanted.
"And so all of us must step down from this minute stage," she said, giving him one last squeeze. "If only it weren't so soon." Antonio walked away calmly, his face colder than she had ever seen it, and his dark eyes sunken from a lack of sleep. His body looked older than ever, and he smiled at her weakly. Those past weeks that he had aided her in achieving her goal, Antonio had been tested through so much, and he was physically tired, sick of being beat on just so that they could attain some far off family goal. "Fine!" Livia shouted in fiegned anger. "If you want to leave your entire family behind in order to apologize to a murderer, then that's entirely your problem! I'll live without you, and I won't give up like you did! If you're watching, Antonio, then you'll see! I'll live and I'll be the most powerful ruler that House Ammoure has ever had!" Antonio cried as he turned around and gazed at his sister's tear-stained face with eyes as cold as ice.
"You can't let go because you don't understand!" he shouted. "There are more important things than worldly positions, material possessions, none of those mean anything once you've lived life and experienced the greater joy. Sometimes all that people need is forgiveness, and it can save them, bring them back from the insanity that causes them to become murderers. Livia, once you can see that for yourself, I think that you'll be able to accept my decision more readily." When he turned around for the second time, he summoned all the strength within his being and walked outside to his car, driving away toward Paris. If he was going to leave this world, he had to close up the wounds of the past, and make sure that nobody would miss him, that all who had come to love him, and care for him would be able to accept the death of one of the best comrades they had ever come to know.