A/N: Every time I write past 8K+ words, Google Docs starts freaking out and randomly closing… It's like some higher power is trying to tell me to keep it within 6K-7K a chapter...


Chapter 38


The Capital estate was not really a home - not to me, and not to my friends. Ever since I was first brought here by my father back when I was young, I had only ever considered it temporary housing until I could return back to my province. It offered more luxury than the house I'd grown up in under the care of my mother, but there was no sense of home when the servants were so often cycled out, each one replaced with another of similar disposition.

My father had ruled each house with a strict, aloof style that I'd inherited. The Yuy ducal family were not known for hosting parties and rarely hosted guests, at least until I'd married Duo; then there would be the occasional tea party where Duo's sycophants would titter over the latest court gossip and antagonize the servants nearby.

The duties and hiring of the servants fell under the purview of the Head Butler, in this case Tubarov. Unlike Howard, he hadn't been a generational butler; he'd been hired shortly before my marriage to Duo, after the last butler had retired in protest of my marrying someone of the Harvester faith. Although the citizens of the Capital were well aware of the Maxwell family's contributions to the Sanc Kingdom, there would always be that sense of othering based simply on their religious beliefs.

Tubarov had not seemed to care, which was one of the points in his favor. His management of the estate employees sometimes came across as lax, such as when they failed to complete certain chores by the expected deadline, or sometimes even overly strict. Previously, Duo seemed at times frustrated with him, at other times amused - but with the kind of amusement someone affixes upon a bug in its death throes. I had wondered if Tubarov would last long since I figured Duo could only take so much unaddressed incompetence.

Although Tubarov may very well end up dead before my husband could even fire him.

"More pickled beef?" Quatre asked, voice low and pleasant. I felt both Wufei and Meilan wince at his tone, though Trowa just looked a little too interested. I didn't have it in me to insert myself after such a long night of looking into the disappearance of Professor G and one of our men, Hisashi, but even I couldn't stop the slight scowl that emerged at the sight of the uncovered breakfast dishes.

"I was under the impression the Duchess had already changed the menu," the blonde continued. "Is there any reason why this is still being served?"

There was only one right answer to that, but clearly Tubarov had no desire to live past tomorrow. "Chef Morris is sick and Chef Ricktor made the meal this morning," he said, as if that explained why Duo's most hated entree was on the table.

"Is Chef Ricktor deaf and blind, so that he was unaware of the changes?" Meilan cut in with a snort. "You'd better get rid of this before the Duchess comes, or he's going to get all teary-eyed again."

"The Duchess will not be joining this morning."

Every single person at the table straightened up. "What do you mean?" I asked, well aware of the freezing temperature of my tone. While it's true Duo was running later than usual to join us, I had attributed that to an equally hard night for him; he'd certainly seemed drained after our visit to Duke Maxwell.

The visit itself had been disconcerting. I had expected some level of awkwardness since Duo was working off whatever he just intuitively knew to interact with his family; that sort of exchange would be draining on anyone, let alone someone with amnesia. The fact that he felt comfortable - or brave - enough to explore the Maxwell estate while I'd been occupied with his father would have only added to his stress. When he'd returned after his jaunt, pale and wide-eyed, I'd thought he may have slipped and said something to someone, like a servant. The Maxwell estate was always very sparsely populated whenever I had to visit, and it was no different this time as well, so I had hoped Duo wouldn't have had to worry about running into someone and them figuring out he was truly lost.

Duo had seemingly recovered during the dinner, although by that point I'd planned to leave as soon as politely possible after the meal. Solo Maxwell had yet to show up, so I was going to give us an extra 30 minutes after dinner before calling it a night. When Duo had excused himself to the powder room, I'd already begun drawing my conversation with Duke Maxwell to a close.

The fact that Solo Maxwell had turned up wasn't shocking, but the sight of him leaned into Duo's personal space, smiling in the face of my husband's red-rimmed eyes - that was the last straw.

"His Grace has stated that he will not be joining you for breakfast," Tubarov repeated, with only a slight linger over the 'you'. His posture was still deferential, and I knew that I was misdirecting my discomfort onto him - but still, I found him distasteful.

"Did he give a reason?" Wufei spoke up into the taut silence.

Tubarov's answer was quickly and simply given: "None that I am aware of."

I felt Quatre's stare at me from across the table as a small pit of ice grew in my gut.

Duo had been off since last night. Being exhausted from socializing with people who would have seemed unfamiliar to him was one thing, but he'd appeared more than just tired on the carriage ride back. He'd looked...distracted the entire time we were at the Maxwell estate, eyes roving over every corner of the room and hallways, but in the carriage that frenetic energy had waned and he'd been dispirited.

I have no idea what Solo Maxwell had said or done to him; Duo had refused to tell me, and it wasn't like I knew what the brothers discussed when I wasn't present. Their relationship had not been close, but it also had not been hostile; leaving Duo alone with his brother would have been fine before, and even now, all he should have worried about was slipping up and confirming their suspicions.

And they were, undoubtedly, suspicious. Duke Maxwell broached no subject that an amnesiac Duo could not answer, ignoring his son's obvious distraction and lack of participation in the conversation. Duo had answered when called upon, but his snide comments were kept to a minimum; nowhere close to the level of subtle vindictiveness he'd pepper into any conversation with his father.

I had no way of truly knowing what had so unsettled Duo by the time we left. I was certain it was Solo Maxwell, in word or deed, but nothing from any previous interaction with his brother was a red flag. Perhaps he'd taken advantage of Duo's amnesia in some way, and said or done something to alarm him. I'd intended to speak with Duo about it today. I hadn't wanted to discuss it last night, though it would have been fresh; better to let him rest and recuperate, and then we could tackle the issue together.

But Quatre hadn't quite agreed.

As soon as we'd returned last night, Quatre and Trowa were already abuzz with new intel regarding Professor G; Professor G and Hisashi had been missing for a few days now, but someone matching Hisashi's description had been seen by some of the locals previous to his disappearance. He'd been heading into a flower shop late in the day - and that same flower shop was the one burnt to the ground later that night.

There'd been human remains in the wake of the blaze but they were unrecognizable; everyone had attributed the corpse to the shop owner, an older lady who was known to be a follower of the Harvester faith. It was whispered that someone in the community was unhappy about that and had destroyed her shop, not realizing she was still inside of it. That same sop owner was nowhere to be seen again, lending credibility to the idea that it was her body that had been burnt in the blaze.

The chances of that corpse actually being Hisashi…were pretty high.

Before Trowa could report any of that to me, though, Quatre had given Duo's retreating figure one hard look before pulling me into my study with flinty eyes - wanting to know exactly what had happened. I wasn't sure and had just that, which had only made my friend even more concerned.

"He's… It feels like all of his emotions are clotting," Quatre had said. "I've never seen him anywhere close to this, even after what happened at the church. Your Grace - he feels like he did back then."

Back then. Not back to when I fired Hilde Schbeiker, as I had initially thought - but before his amnesia. For one terrifying moment, I'd thought Duo had remembered even more from who he was before the greenhouse fire.

But if he did… If he did remember, there was no way he would have allowed me to touch him on the carriage ride back. He hadn't reciprocated my hold on his hand, but if he remembered more from his time before the fire, he would have slapped my hand away. The fact that he allowed me to touch him at all proved it wasn't a full return of his memories.

I stood up from my seat at the table. If this had been before - when I hadn't known the taste of his skin, when I hadn't felt the warmth of his gaze, when he'd loathed me with his every breath - then I would have continued with the meal. Duo not joining us meant he was eating in his quarters, so aside from making sure the meal was hot and fresh when the servants delivered it to him, I did not need to do much else.

Now, however - I wanted to know why, and more than that, I needed to do more.

Tubarov looked shocked as I passed by him and out the door. There was a moment's pause before I was soon joined, the others following along behind me. It was clear they would take their cues from me, going by how they hung back, but I'm sure if we got an answer we didn't like, hot-headed Meilan would be the first to act.

The first clue something was wrong was Duo's subdued attitude upon our return to the estate.

Duo's now out-of-character refusal to join us was the second.

The third was practically a complete confirmation.

All of Duo's people were waiting right outside his quarters. The guards assigned to today's rotation (Mikhail and Asahi) were not unusual, but Duo's maids standing at attention in front of his doors were. Even Hilde was there, waiting dead-center, her somber gaze locked in the direction of the opposite wall despite our approach.

There were hurried bows in greeting when I finally drew close enough. The estate maids, Kanako and Suzette, had their gazes skittering all over us in obvious anxiety; Coralina was standing ramrod straight and had affixed her eyes to some unseen distance, worry obvious in her very stance.

Hilde was utterly withdrawn, shoulders straight and stare cutting. "Good morning," she said, tone icily professional. "The Duchess is feeling unwell this morning and has declined breakfast."

There was something more to the words, an undercurrent of accusation that set me on edge. It had obviously ruffled the others as well, Wufei clicking his tongue as if to choke back the words he wanted to snap in response to her attitude.

"Unwell," Quatre echoed in a strange tone.

Hilde's stare was uncompromising, "His Grace has stated he will take the day to rest."

"Step aside," I instructed her coldly, already moving forward.

Hilde's eyes never wavered from where they lad latched on to my shoulder. The fact that she hesitated - that she seemed willing to follow Duo's orders over my own - would have won her a point in any other circumstance. "The Duchess has refused all visitors," she said, unmoving.

Wufei's low tone was a warning in and of itself, "Is the Duke a visitor in his own home?"

"Does the room behind me only belong to His Grace the Duke?"

It was like a slap in the face. I felt all of my growing ire immediately leave me, instead replaced by the growing pit of ice. There was a finality to Hilde's words that implied no compromise. It was that trait that had led me to allow Hilde to accompany Duo for so long; even when they did not get along, Hilde still followed Duo's commands to the absolute letter.

"The Duchess has refused all visitors," Hilde repeated, slow and poisonous.

I hesitated.

"Your Grace." Behind Quatre's eyes, the sky blue of Sandrock lurked.

I walked away.


When I'd first been introduced to Duo as his fiance, it had been a wan day in autumn. There was something about the rooms in the Maxwell estate that light seemed unable to reach, seemingly casting them in a perpetual haze that only worsened in the filtered light of colored glass panes. Even though I had always been kept to the guest wing of the expansive estate, it looked no more welcoming past the heavy wooden doors that sectioned off strangers from the inner estate.

Duo, likewise, had been just as closed off as the estate that had borne him.

When my father reminisced about my mother, he often spoke of her features with a reverent tone; my soft, gentle mother, with eyes of dewdrops and skin as fair as sweet cream. She may not have been mentally strong enough to survive court politics, nor physically strong enough to survive the illness that took her - but it was that fragility that had made her so lovely, according to my father.

In contrast, Duo appeared to have no fragility. The soft feeling of his uncalloused hands was belied by the sharp, cutting edges in his words; his fair looks were tempered by a wildfire that would sooner reduce people to ashes than warm hearts.

I'd thought him beautiful.

In that first meeting, I'd sat next to my father, Duo next to his own across from us. The negotiation itself had been straightforward and of no surprise; just like myself, Duo had doubtlessly had the engagement explained to him by his father prior to this and was just present as the details were hammered out. Few questions were posed to me, and fewer still to Duo; we sat quietly beside our fathers as they discussed the arrangements of our marriage and all that it entailed, politically and financially.

It was only after the luncheon that Duo and I were allowed some time to speak and get to know each other. Our chaperone was his nanny, a woman named Helena who I knew had been with him since childhood, though she walked several paces behind us for the illusion of privacy.

I had struggled to think of conversation topics. Introductions seemed silly at this point, and I'd made at least a cursory one to him when I greeted Duke Maxwell. When I'd asked my friends for appropriate topics to discuss with Sanc nobles, Quatre had suggested light topics such as the weather, local events (though I had no idea what was really happening in the Sanc court), or hobbies; Wufei had suggested simple literature that a Sanc dandy may have read; Trowa's suggestions were better left forgotten.

We had ended up walking in awkward silence for a few minutes. I was still confined to the guest wing, although there was a small courtyard that I was free to idle in, which is where Duo ended up leading us. It was pleasant, though some of the plants had already been withered by the chilly autumn air, leaves turned brown and slumped over interspersed statues. It gave off the impression that the garden was half-dead, a ghost of what it was in the spring.

Dandies liked pretty things, so I went with the easiest topic: "The gardens in the Yuy estate are beautiful," I had started haltingly. "We have many different kinds of flowers."

Duo's eyes had flickered over to me. They were a beguiling shade of violet, a purple so deep that I couldn't help but be entranced by them. I knew staring for too long could be considered rude, though, so I had been sure to keep my gaze off of Duo's face so I wouldn't creep him out.

"I prefer greenhouse flowers."

The tone had been... off, somehow. I got the impression of someone testing the waters but Duo did not look hesitant; he was watching me, gauging the stiffness in my expression as I couldn't help but automatically close off. My father had warned me repeatedly not to give any inkling of weakness to any Sanc noble, although I did not know if this included my future husband.

"That can be arranged," I had tried after a moment's thought.

Duo's face seemed to twitch.

"They're just flowers," I added, in case he was worried about the price. The servants in the Capital estate were always telling me how much certain items cost, remarking on how expensive everything was that I touched or looked at or ate, and how lucky I was to be able to enjoy such luxuries now. "Such simple things can be left to you."

I didn't want to give him the impression that I expected him to slave away as my husband. My mother had been given a stipend by my father and a homely - if empty - residence to live in. Her every comfort had been provided for and we were in want of nothing. I planned to give Duo a similarly comfortable life; I would keep him comfy and safe, in want of nothing.

"You're really just like your father," Duo had observed.

I couldn't help but nod in thanks. My father was a renowned figurehead in Sanc; the Yuy ducal family had been guarding Sanc for generations and my father proudly carried on the duty of our bloodline. He was respected and revered in the Sanc court, even after he'd pulled me out of seemingly thin air to present as his heir.

That violet gaze was matched with a voice equally cutting. "That wasn't a compliment."

Duo had left me there in that courtyard without a backward glance, and that had ended our first meeting as fiances. Every subsequent meeting had gone just as poorly; if either of our fathers were present, Duo sat quietly in simmering fury; if we were alone save for the odd servant sent to chaperone, Duo was freer with his words - but they were sharp things, meant to draw blood rather than bonds.

Initially, I'd gone to the others for advice on how to improve my relationship with Duo, but there was only so much my friends could help with; Wufei and Meilan had grown up in an isolated area of Lagrange and had had little contact with people from Sanc, especially nobles; Trowa and Catherine had been traveling with a band of mercenaries and knew nothing of the niceties that governed Sanc's courts; Quatre had tried, but his own customs differed wildly from Sanc's and he was still learning.

Months before of our wedding, I'd even gone to my father for help; as someone who had grown up in Sanc's court, he was well-learned in the etiquette of nobility. It had been a mostly wasted endeavor as my father's relationship with my mother could be termed 'estranged' at best, and his prerogative had always been to protect her from the cruelty and hypocrisy of Sanc's elite. Duo was fragile, but in ways different from my mother, and my father fully expected him to be able to take care of both of us when it came to the gossip of Sanc's nobility.

"He may have been learning etiquette far longer, but that doesn't make him more mature," my father had said, after another dinner that Duo had refused to join. "He'll learn to appreciate how much you provide for him, just give it time. A spoiled child can still grow into a decent adult."

My father had a lot of reasons and excuses for Duo. Things like how because he wasn't used to any form of hardship, I should ensure he had every available comfort at home; how his words soaked in disdain were the feeble mutterings of a childish man; how the fact that every moment spent in my presence was one that hunched his shoulders just that little bit more, the weight of his title heavy as a collar around his neck.

Duke Maxwell made no excuses for his son.

It was not that he did not speak about Duo - because he did, kindly and frequently - but more that what he did say about his son explained very little. According to Duke Maxwell, Duo was raised with the strict sensibilities of a dandy and had the same delicate tastes; he also understood the expectations and responsibilities of his station.

What Duke Maxwell didn't say was that Duo had a quickfire temper. He didn't say anything about the more Duo was hurt, the sharper his smile grew. He didn't explain how easy it was for Duo to look at someone - me, Trowa, Quatre, any of the knights, any of the servants, another noble whose simpering smiles never reached their eyes - and assess them in full, everything from the threat they posed to any weakness that could be exploited.

I imagine the tittering court ladies who used to follow Duo's every step and word did so out of blind fear, because I had seen the moment where one had dared to challenge him and he'd verbally cut her down without a second's hesitation. I think the only reason my father received cold silence in place of scorching words was that Duo seemed to fear him more than others.

I had been oddly relieved to know that fear was one of the few negative things Duo didn't feel for me. I would take his anger and hatred over his fear any day - that's what made it so easy to slide into old habits, especially within the walls of the estate where we'd lived when we first became a married couple.

"You really won't speak with him?" Quatre's plaintive tone was damning in and of itself.

It had been a tense and quiet three days in the estate; Duo remained isolated, turning away everyone aside from Hilde and Coralina. (Even Quatre and Meilan had been barred from entering.) The estate servants had seemed unbothered for the first day or so, until Duo's absence resulted in an increasingly temperamental Duchess Guard who could reduce even the most obnoxious of servants to tears with a glare.

"If Duo wishes to share with me, he knows where I am," I told the blonde. I would not interject myself where I was unwanted; if nothing else, I at least learned how to keep to myself while living under my father's roof. If Duo was unhappy with anything, then I would not further exacerbate his unhappiness by forcing my presence upon him.

Quatre stared at me, the discontent with my answer making a muscle in his jaw twitch. He turned away in short order, a tense set to his shoulders as he returned to his prior task at organizing the bookshelves in my office. I knew he was holding back a lot that he wanted to say, although whether those words were borne from the concern of a dear friend or the eminent chiding of the parasite inside of him was hard to say.

I was unsure if it was Sandrock's very nature that made it so invasive, so nosy; just like Wing, it was entwined in the very nature of its host, as much a part of Quatre as his blood and heart and soul, but the differences between how we each carried our burdens could be so vast that it's a wonder we recognized each other at all. If Heavyarms had any influence on Trowa, it never showed, whereas Shenlong had been pulled in two directions - making it hard to say who truly bore that merciless rage between the one who was originally intended and the interloper.

The differences between our relationships were what made it so difficult to figure out how to approach my own with Duo. Meilan had suffered the knowledge of Shenlong from the very beginning, and Wufei had been quickly indoctrinated once her village took him in; Trowa and Quatre had realized and accepted their own on their own terms, and easily fell into understanding each other.

Duo had hated me just for the lack of noble purity in my blood. Considering that was something so insignificant in comparison to what really flowed through my veins, I had never dared entertained the notion of telling him more. My father had all but given me the order himself; he had never told my mother the truth of our bloodline, and she had lived a happy life in ignorance until her end. I could simply do the same for Duo.

My father did not ever meet the holders of the previous generation aside from his own father, though; he had thought of our family as alone and unique, until the day Trowa began to shadow my steps with that same alien understanding.

"We're still different," he had said, stalwart and disturbed. "They're similar, but not the same - it does not run in their blood."

Meilan's had, until Wufei put himself between her and Shenlong. My father did not consider it the same though, reasoning out that it likely had traded hands several times if Meilan's clan was willing to make a woman the next host. Since Wufei was able to take it, then it did not matter that Meilan could have; it didn't matter that even though Wufei held it now, Meilan still wasn't completely herself either. She was incomplete, a fragment - that had made her inadequate in my father's eyes.

I privately thought Wufei would have ripped out his spine for the very thought if Meilan didn't do it first. My father had a complicated and distant relationship with just about everyone I had a relationship with, and his death at the hands of Oz's Colonel Une had gotten me sympathy from my otherwise dry-eyed companions. Even Quatre, kinder than anyone I had met before, hardly agreed with any of the advice my father had imparted to me. It left me in the awkward position of having to defend my rationale to my closest friends and advisors, especially when it came to my relationship with Duo and others.

"You said sharing goes both ways," I started, more than a tad defensive in answer to Quatre's (Sandrock's) stony silence. "If Duo isn't willing to share with me, then I don't want to push the issue."

"It's exactly because you don't push anything that your relationship has such a shaky foundation," Quatre returned without even turning around to look at me. The words weren't acidic and neither was the tone, but they cut regardless.

I glared at the back of his head. "Would you have me camp out beside his bedroom door until he emerges? Or push my way inside and demand he tell me everything?"

"I think that would be the fastest way to have the Duchess arrested for mariticide."

I hated it when Quatre used Trowa's bland passive-aggressive approach to undermine my argument. It always reminded me of how stupid I could sound when my ideas were thrown back in my face like that. I think Duo would have used that if he knew it bothered me so much, but there really wasn't much passiveness in his aggression.

I could handle Duo's anger. Knowing he was irate helped me identify the reason, helped me figure out a way to make things right. Even his snide remarks and dismissive glances were symptoms of a larger issue, and this gave me the clues I needed to remedy the situation. It was only when he turned away, when he isolated himself in order to stew in his own thoughts - that's when I was left at a loss.

"...I don't know how to fix this," I admitted softly.

The stiffness in Quatre's shoulders relaxed in his next exhale. He turned to give me a quietly contemplative look, his innate empathy shining through and making me relax in kind. It was my friend looking back at me now, wanting to help me out simply because he loved me. I could always listen to Quatre's words when the source of them came from that.

"The Duchess has been out-of-sorts ever since we first arrived here, but given the new environment and the stress of being surrounded by people he does not know, that was to be expected," Quatre recounted. "That stress has been building up, but I suspect that whatever it built up to was worsened by what he encountered in his family home."

My friends knew as much as I did about the Maxwell family. Their true purpose, of course, but also the strange relationship that threaded each member of that small family together like a mottled spider's web. Duke Maxwell loved his son, of that both myself and Quatre were certain, but Solo Maxwell's emotional reaction to his brother was as confusing a mess as Duo's own to both family members.

It had made Quatre uncomfortable, but as an outsider to both Duo's family and to our marriage, he had little to say on the subject. Given that he was close to quite a few of his numerous sisters, not to mention his sister-in-law, Quatre's aversion to Duo's brother seemed all the more unnerving.

"I'm not saying you must force him to tell you what happened in that place while he wasn't with you," Quatre said, moving towards me in order to lay a comforting hand on my shoulder in support; the small gesture settled my anxiety at the prospect. "But he needs to know he's not alone, that you're willing to listen. He didn't believe that before - but maybe now, he will."

Duo lashed out because he was lonely - that was what Quatre had been certain about in those very early days of our marriage. Quatre's compassion seemed limitless when it came to Duo at times, no matter how much he (and even his husband) were raked over by Duo's heated words. I had always been grateful for Quatre's understanding, for his consistent attempts to reach out and reassure Duo even though he never listened. I understood why Trowa and Wufei could never, but just the same - I was so glad that Quatre could see, even just a little bit, of how I saw Duo.

"You know we are here to support you, and despite our beginning, I do consider the Duchess a dear friend," the blonde said. "I want you to be happy - both of you. I am willing to help in any way I can, but I cannot force you to be happy. Your relationship to each other is determined by you two, and no one else."

Quatre turned his gaze out the window, to the autumn-colored landscape below.

"I think that is something both of your families had trouble understanding."


There were many ways I could go about having an audience with Duo. A common one for nobles was to call him to my office - but I was sure if Duo didn't kill me for it, either Quatre or Hilde would. Another was to simply knock at his bedroom door, and either wait for him to answer or use the master key to allow myself entry.

I decided to go with the Duo approach.

"I need to speak with the Duchess."

Sayaka and Berion traded glances. I didn't think they would try to stop me, but given our precarious positions of hanging off the eaves of the estate, that wouldn't go well even if they tried. I privately thought Sayaka was showing off Trowa-style given that she had a foot hooked around the corner roof ornament and was hanging upside down, but I kept that to myself.

For a moment there, they seemed to be considering stopping me though. Since that would be considered treason, I'm glad they didn't and simply moved away - but I was a little impressed Duo had inspired such loyalty in his guard.

I quickly climbed my way up to Duo's balcony, now unimpeded. As expected, the doors were left open to let in the cool evening air; I was glad I would not have to break the lock and climb inside, though I could possibly reason to Duo that given the compromised lock, it would be safer to stay in my room…

Shaking myself out of my ruminations, I pushed the door fully open and stepped inside. I don't really know what I was expecting; Meilan had mentioned seeing Duo's maids clean up broken glass on that first day, but afterward, the dishware had been fine and the meals only lightly touched.

If Duo had truly been ill, Hilde would have called for Sally. The fact that she hadn't, that she had instead remained stationed outside his bedroom door like a sentinel, meant that his physical health was not in danger - but his mental health was. If Duo was refusing visitors and Hilde was following his commands, then she had judged his emotional state to be delicate and thought contact with anyone aside from those he'd expressly allowed was dangerous.

Looking at Duo now, I could not fault her for that.

He looked exhausted, in a way that stung more like defeat than sickness. His eyes were red-rimmed with dark eyebags underneath, the pallor of his skin pale with exhaustion. He was sitting up but still half-tangled in the sheets, as if it had not been worth the effort to extricate himself from them, and he had a knee pulled up towards his chest to rest his chin against as he evaluated me with dispassionate violet eyes.

I felt my heart lurch into my throat at the sight of that gaze; it was painfully familiar, as it had been a disposition Duo sometimes affected when he didn't think the fight was worth it. More often than not, this was the look I found in his eyes in the moments before he turned away from me - and with Duo, disengagement was the cruelest of his methods.

"...Duo."

I couldn't help the small waver in my voice. The sound of it caused a corner of his lips to quirk up, immediately softening his expression into something more approachable. The glazed look in his eyes dissipated into something more cognizant, gentling to a degree that made it easier to breathe.

"Told you it's more fun to come in that way," Duo observed, tone caught somewhere between lethargic and amused.

I felt some of the tension in my shoulders leave at the small joke. If this had been before the amnesia, Duo would never have tried to ease the atmosphere. "It was nice to get some fresh air," I returned blandly.

At the low chuckle I got in reply to that, I made a few steps forward. Duo watched my approach with expectant eyes - not refusing me, but not inviting me either. It was that neutrality that halted me only a couple of feet away from where he sat perched at the side of his bed, unsure of what to do next.

I glanced about the room for some alcohol. Whenever we'd spoken before, whiskey had acted as a sort of mediator or pleasantry. Unfortunately, it looked like the only bottle of it visible in Duo's room had been emptied and cleaned, left sitting atop his lounge area table. There was a tray of uneaten snacks as well, mostly nuts and fresh fruit, along with a couple of the less-sweet pastries.

"Don't worry - I didn't break anything."

I blinked at the words, head swiveling back around to give Duo a befuddled stare. The words didn't make sense in the way they were laid out: naturally, I would worry about Duo being in this state, but the reasoning of why I would worry didn't make any sense to me. If all it took was destroying his entire room - even this entire state - for Duo to feel better, then I would gladly let him do so.

"Even if you did break something, it doesn't matter," I told him.

Something flickered through his eyes, the emotions too quick to be read, but the small quirk to his lips dipped into a fleeting expression of vulnerability before returning to the same partial smirk of before. It had changed somewhat, though, but I could not place how - turning sharper, more reminiscent of when acid fell from Duo's tongue far more than sugar.

"Yeah, I guess it doesn't," Duo agreed lightly. Despite the tone, the words seemed to have fangs.

I struggled with what to say. I know what Quatre had wanted me to speak to Duo about, I knew what I should speak to Duo about - our relationship, our visit to the Maxwell estate, Wing - but I could not come up with the words to explain any of it. Our relationship had been imbalanced from the very first moment the marriage had been decided by our families; the intricacies of the Maxwell estate and its occupants had been left mostly unknown to me; Wing was the secret I would prefer to take to my grave.

"Are you feeling better?" came tumbling from my mouth instead.

Duo's answering smile was a small, sweet lie. "As well as can be expected."

I felt my hands briefly curl into fists at the familiar phrase. I wondered if Duo understood what it meant to use it, the same strange way he knew other things - like engineering, like accounting, like the girl in the night market.

When I had been sitting and speaking with Duke Maxwell, what had Duo been going through alone within the walls of the Maxwell estate? Duo seemed to never enjoy the company of his family before, but he'd certainly been fond of his former home. The rare stray servant that he interacted with in passing had only ever looked overjoyed to receive Duo's attention, a far cry from the servants of the Yuy estates. Duo had only ever stayed for the pleasantries and the meal when it came to visiting his family, often leaving my side to return to his former bedchambers or whatever it was he did in the bowels of the Maxwell estate that I was restricted from.

I reminded myself of Quatre's advice: he needs to know he's not alone, that you're willing to listen.

"Duo, I…" The words 'I'm here,' were caught in my throat. It wasn't always true, after all, and wouldn't it be like lying to Duo? I left for the battlefield, for skirmishes along the kingdom's borders, for reports made to those who wore the crown… Even when I listened, it was hardly enough. I listened to all of Duo's complaints, his cutting remarks, and I still married him knowing he hated it, knowing I was permanently tying him to my side despite his protests.

My father had said Duo would grow to appreciate me. I suppose he was smart enough not to outright lie and say Duo would grow to love me.

I tried again, swallowing the lump in my throat. Let him know he's not alone, that I'm here to listen, I reminded myself yet again. "Duo, I… I want to help you."

Duo's head tilted slightly in consideration, but his eyes - they seemed to sharpen. "...With what?"

"Anything," I replied immediately. "Whatever you need, I can help you."

Duo stared at me for a long moment. With an almost imperceptible sigh, his head dipped in a shallow nod as he pulled another small, false smile onto his face. "Thanks," he said in that same light tone.

This reaction - this lack of one - was a telltale sign I was not getting anywhere. The frustration seeped up from my gut, heating my collar and itching down my spine. "Duo, please, if there's anything…" I trailed off, biting off the words that sounded like hollow platitudes, even to me.

In retrospect, platitudes were not often used by anyone within my circle. My friends never offered empty words, even to soothe my ego; anything Duo said before his amnesia could never be considered a platitude, since every word seemed designed for savagery, and though those words had lost their hostility after the greenhouse fire, they had never been meaningless.

Quatre had said my unwillingness to share more than just the shining, good parts of me with my husband was one of the reasons Duo was unable to share with me. I understood how that affected us, how that resulted in a distance that neither of us would be the first to breach.

Every step we'd taken towards each other nowadays was all because of Duo. He was the one to sit beside me at mealtimes, he was the one who visited my office and my bedchambers, he was the one to initiate conversations that drew us closer together. Every small gesture, every word spoken that diminished that wall between us - it was all because of Duo, because I would never have been able to do it.

"Duo, I…" My throat was dry, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not meet that violet-eyed gaze. "...I don't know what to do."

I don't know how to bridge this distance. I don't know what words would put Duo at ease. I don't know what had happened to cause this steep spiral back to what had been - but I was terrified of it.

I didn't want to lose him.

Duo couched everything in measurements of time. Things like 'for now,' as if he could see the far-off end date. It was the finality that caught my attention; followers of the Harvester thought about the ends far more than the means, a trait that carried especially strongly in the Maxwell bloodline. Had I not already seen enough evidence of the terrible acts Solo Maxwell committed in the name of his end goals?

Why did I ever think his brother would be spared from it?

"If Solo Maxwell- If he said or did something, I can-"

There was a gentle tap to the bottom of my chin. At the unexpected action, I couldn't help but look up - meeting Duo's steady gaze. He didn't move away, still perched on his bed with a hand stretched across the distance, one gentle finger curled along the bottom of my chin. His head was still slightly tilted in thought from before, expression too tired to be anything but real.

For a moment, wishful thinking got the best of me and I thought he was going to kiss me. Duo's stare, however, was level - and only because of that unwavering gaze was I able to see the way ice stole across his face.

"Why bring up Solo?"

The question unsettled me - because I now knew with absolute certainty what had gone wrong in our visit. When I didn't answer, Duo released my chin and the corner of his lips twisted down in a frown that further set me on edge.

"Did you not want me to speak to him? Why?" Duo demanded, then just as quickly, his face fell into an expression too complicated to decipher and he flinched back, away from me as if he'd seen the answer in my face.

I didn't understand that reaction but my body couldn't allow him to recoil from me, to bring us that much closer to how we had been. I stepped forward and quickly re-closed the distance between us, stopping myself only at the last moment from grabbing him to hold him close.

"It's not like that," I tried to reassure him. "He was just the last one you spoke to before we left, and… And he made you cry."

Duo's tears were enough reason to detest him. The distrust I felt, the suspicion - these were all the result of Solo Maxwell's own transgressions, the same ease he displayed whether he was cajoling the man I loved or standing in an interrogation room full of corpses. I don't know what the Maxwell brothers said to each other when the only witness was the shadows of the Maxwell estate, but if Duo's security was ever put into jeopardy - it was not a far stretch to think Solo Maxwell may have something to do with it.

"That's…" Duo couldn't continue, brows furrowed together. "What he said… I didn't lie, Heero. He didn't say anything I didn't already- I should have already known."

That was too open, the idea too vague. Duo should have known a lot of things, and that differed according to the person who spoke to him. "If he said something that-"

"Why did you marry me, Heero?"

The question evaporated all I intended to say. Duo was staring hard at me, no longer moving backward but feeling a hundred miles away regardless. His stare was cold as he met my own, not challenging but seemingly already knowing an answer that I could not guess at.

"I hated you, didn't I? I was cruel to you for no reason, I purposely hurt you and those you cared about... And I don't think I ever hid that fact, not from you or anyone," Duo continued. From this close, I could see the way he trembled as he spoke, but despite that, his voice never came across as anything but matter-of-fact. "So why are we married, Heero?"

I opened my mouth but found I had nothing to say. I closed it.

This was not the answer Duo wanted. I only saw a flash of agony as it ripped across his face before he was suddenly grabbing the lapels of my shirt and jerking me closer, a grimace closer to snarl rather than a frown scarring his lips.

"Are you telling me that your father- that the former Duke Yuy saw and heard everything I said about his son and decided that your pain and humiliation was worth it? That even though he knew - he must have known - that I would make you miserable, and he still approved of our marriage?!"

His voice grew louder with every passing sentence. The tone of it tore at me: flustered and harried, horrified and furious. His grip tightened on my front before he suddenly released it, now pushing me away with far gentler but still insistent hands.

"God, just how fucking useful was my family's connections to get you to accept someone like me?" he laughed, the words edged in hysteria.

I saw what Hilde must have seen when she decided to comply with Duo's orders and refuse entry to anyone else. The exhaustion was just another mask, just like the viciousness, just like the smiles; all pulled on to distract from the way that brilliant mind twisted and turned. That was Duo, that was always Duo - the push and the pull. Hot or cold, vicious or cajoling; Duo acted out but never in a way that was constructive, only destructive.

The Yuy family had paid the bride price when it came to our marriage; in essence, Duo was bought for the price of hundreds of thousands of coin and brought into the Yuy family line. It was the natural route for a dandy, although given the family he belonged to, Duo's bride price was one of the most expensive in Sanc history.

There had even been talk in the Sanc court that the Maxwell's had been bribed by my father; the former Duke Yuy needed someone with a strong position among Sanc's nobility and a family that would not waver in the face of rumors. Who better a choice than the Maxwell ducal family, who could hold their own both on the battlefield and among the noble court? And how easy it would have been, to finally marry off the dandy son whose only real other option would have been a foreign noble, given the Crown Prince's engagement to Lucrezia Noin.

I know what we had been seen as. I know what the arrangements between our families had been interpreted as.

But I also knew what it had been like to convince my father that Duo deserved more than the occasional letter and basic necessities. I knew what I had said as I sat across from Duke Maxwell and pretended to not sense the knife pointed at my back. I knew what Solo Maxwell had meant when he'd told me goodness did not mean kindness, because a kind man would have prioritized Duo's happiness - but a good man prioritized his life.

There had been two deciding factors to our marriage.

The first had been the political benefits reaped from such a union. This was the most often discussed among the upper echelons of the Sanc Kingdom, and it was a deal that disproportionately favored the Yuy ducal family over the Maxwell. My father seemed to believe this stemmed from two things: Duke Maxwell's desire to keep his son safe within Sanc's borders and under his immediate influence, and to solidify the lifelong friendship between them.

As a bastard child, the legitimacy of my claim to the Yuy ducal seat could have easily been called into question once my father passed away. However, with the implicit backing of a strong political power like the Maxwell's, questioning my legitimacy would not only insult me as the Duke - but also the entire Maxwell family, who were tied to me through marriage.

My father had been pleased by the offer, for all that it gave: the political power, the strong connections, and a spouse who could be kept in line. For all that my father expected, though, I knew he never gleaned what his old friend had gained as well. Because for all that the terms and negotiations had been decided by our fathers with little to no input from us, the real heart of it had been decided the night I'd been invited into Duke Maxwell's home.

Duo was a dandy from a powerhouse in the Sanc Kingdom. Someone from a ducal line could really only marry someone of equal standing, so for the Maxwell family to save face - Duo could only be married off to someone holding the title of Duke or higher. The Crown Prince had been engaged to the Noin ducal family's heir since childhood; Duke Darlian had only a single daughter, adopted from origins as ambiguous as my own. The only true alternative was to marry him to a foreign power.

Lagrange was less a unified kingdom and more a patchwork collection of city-states, which had given many Sanc nobles the impression that Lagrangian titles held less meaning than their own. Quatre, whose family dominated one of the larger city-states in Lagrange and whose power and influence were equal to that of a ducal family, was still seen as someone inferior by the powers in Sanc.

Thus, when considering the sociopolitical climate of the continent, the tenuous peace held with bated breaths between four different factions, and the pickings offered within the country - Duke Maxwell had seen only two options for his second son: marry the bastard child of the strongest military power within Sanc, or marry into the King of Oz's harem to earn us a few more years of peace as the Queen Consort.

It was obvious Duke Solus Maxwell preferred the safer option for his son, but I was not naive enough to believe that he wouldn't carry through with the second option if I had denied the marriage. It was either I marry Duo against his will - or Duo would be sent off to a kingdom who allegedly treated its ruler's concubines the same way a butcher treats cattle.

I would rather be good than kind. I would rather Duo live a long and miserable life beside me than a short but happy one as a queen. I would rather he hate me for petty reasons such as my bloodline than fear me for that same reason.

The second reason for our marriage was simple.

"We're married because I love you, Duo."

Duo's body went absolutely still. The hysteria that had lined his words and his eyes faded away, his body no longer curled as if to run. I did not move, I did not reach out to pull him closer, to press his head against my chest so he could hear how harshly my heart beat for him. Instead, I merely met his wide-eyed gaze with my own steady one, as he had met my own.

It wasn't hard to love Duo. The man who spoke out against the most petty and perverse of nobles; who helped younger ladies and dandies maneuver over the occasional faux pas at parties that would have damned them otherwise; who had once, long before he'd ever come to hate me, offered me a hand up when no one else would.

I loved how he laughed, how he smiled, how he kissed. I loved the way he teased the children he cared for, I loved the way his eyes glittered with mischief when he argued with my friends, I loved the way he fondly resigned himself to hours spent getting dressed up by his maids.

I loved him when he hated me. I loved him when he loved me.

"I love you, Duo. I love you."

My knees hit the floor as I sank onto them. I finally gave in to my urge to touch him, grasping onto the hem of his gown with clawing fingers. Even then, I did not look away from his eyes - widened now in shock, taken aback by my sudden supplication.

I just want you to love me back.


A/N: Can you imagine Quatre just loitering somewhere nearby and just ~feeling~ this trainwreck happen lol

Please be kind and drop a review! :)