Folie à Deux

Chapter 8: The Truth

XXXXX

"I can't just leave things like this." Estelle swung her legs idly over the edge of the large guest bed, staring out the window. The sky was a deep, ashy grey, thick with storm clouds looming overhead.

"What're you still waiting around here for? Go give that jerk a piece of your mind!" Rita sat on the other side of the bed, fired up and back to her usual self. The princess smiled a bit; things hadn't been the same without her snide best friend at her side.

"She's right, you know. Go talk to him, and I'm sure things will sort themselves out," Judith nodded, her voice smooth and calm. The three had spent the afternoon catching up, drinking tea and eating cakes and having some much needed girl talk now that Rita had recovered. There had been plenty to talk about, especially after they had caught Estelle re-entering the castle through the guest bedroom's window.

"He won't talk to me. He can't even stand to look me in the eye," Estelle shook her head. "I don't understand. Even if he doesn't… feel the way I do about him… that shouldn't mean we can't be friends anymore!" Her shoulders were tensed, and when she looked down she realized her hands had clenched into fists.

"Of course not. I shoot Raven down every day and we're still fine," Judith said with a sweet smile.

"That's different. Raven doesn't actually mean it," she blurted out.

"Oh?"

Estelle covered her mouth. "I mean—"

"That sounds about right. The old man's a dirty lecher and a big fat liar," Rita smirked, relishing the chance to say the words. "But you're not like that at all, Estelle! Nobody shuns my friend and gets away with it! Ooh, when I get my hands on that idiot he's in for a world of pain!"

"Yes, I'd be happy to knock some sense into him," Judith smiled, cracking her knuckles for emphasis. She paused. "But only after you've said your piece."

"What should I say to him?" she wondered. "I… I want to tell him I'm sorry for whatever it is I've done to make him hate me. I want to tell him I'd be happy to just be on speaking terms with him again, as friends…"

"But you'd be lying."

"Huh?" she asked, eloquence forgotten.

Rita's vivid green eyes locked on her own. "You can't be sorry for something you haven't done. You haven't done anything wrong, and you know that." Her eyes wandered to Estelle's tightened fists, then her set jaw, and then the pursed shape of her lips. The Princess was indeed human. "You're not sorry. You're angry."

Estelle's brows furrowed slightly. "What—"

"And can you honestly tell me that if you two were just civil with one another again, you'd be happy?" She frowned. "I know you, Estelle. And as brave a front you put on for the rest of the world, I know you haven't been truly happy in months."

"Rita, I—"

"You're a compulsive truth-teller; he's a natural-born liar," the mage continued, not letting her interrupt. "If you're not going to speak the truth, there's no way you'll drag it out of him. And that's what you really want out of a confrontation, isn't it?"

She looked away. "Yes, you may be right," she admitted at last. "Nothing I say will change the way he feels about me. But I… I want to know why he's been acting this way, even if the truth might hurt," she said quietly.

Estelle pushed herself to her feet and smoothed out the folds of her dress. "Rita, Judith… thank you." She gave one last apprehensive glance out the window before turning to the door.

As the soft clacks of her footsteps faded down the hall, Judith and Rita turned to one another. "This… is a good idea, right?" Rita asked, biting her lip.

Judith merely shrugged. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."

XXXXX

There was no knock at the door preceding the Princess's arrival in Yuri's room. The door swung open abruptly, hitting the wall behind it. Yuri sat up in bed and, after he saw the look on her face, realized he wouldn't be getting back to sleep any time soon.

She spoke before he had time to question her sudden arrival. "Why do you hate me, Yuri?" she asked, the words spilling from her mouth like they'd been bottled up for all too long. "I need to know."

He sat up a little straighter, blinking. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he said blithely.

Something flashed behind her emerald eyes. "I mean so little to you that you won't even acknowledge my question?" She looked torn between wanting to run and wanting to stay rooted to the floor until he answered her.

Yuri sighed. "Estelle, what's going on?"

"You were so eager to get rid of me yesterday, but look at you!" She eyed the dark bags under his eyes, the fine sheen of sweat on his brow, his pallid complexion. "You're willing to sacrifice your health just to avoid seeing me," she said exasperatedly.

He shook his head. "That's some imagination you've got there," he said, echoing something he'd said when they'd first met. "I'm fine."

She pressed onward. "You've been avoiding me, distancing yourself from me for the past couple months. The others have noticed too."

"You're getting all worked up over nothing," he started, but her eyes flashed again.

"It's not nothing, Yuri!" she said insistently, her hands balled up into fists at her chest.

He was tired and hungry and he really wasn't in the right frame of mind to talk his way out of this one. She was backing him into a corner, so to speak, so he tried a different tactic. "Don't you have better things to worry about? Don't you have better things to do with Flynn?"

"Flynn has nothing to do with this!" she said tersely, catching him off guard.

He regained his composure. "Of course. The mighty Commandant—"

"Stop skirting the issue, Yuri!" She was standing straight, her finger pointed at his chest, and looked more like a princess in that moment than ever before. Her tone was accusatory – the same tone she'd used when speaking to Ragou and Cumore – but he silently supposed he deserved it. "Answer my question, Yuri. I deserve to know!"

He cocked an eyebrow. "You deserve to know…"

"This has nothing to do with class," she frowned, guessing at where he was going with that last statement. "Have you not moved past that yet? We stand as equals. I thought we got along well – really well – but a while ago you started ignoring me. Now you can't even stand the sight of me. You're unreasonably harsh with me, and I can't understand why. I think I do deserve to know!"

He'd never seen her like this. He paused, taking everything in. "I can't tell you why," he said at last, his voice gruff.

She blinked. "You can't? Or you won't?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does!"

Yuri was silent for a moment. "What is it that you hoped to get from this confrontation, Estelle?" he asked darkly. His eyes were colder, almost dangerous.

She swallowed. She was nervous. "Answers," she said, her voice a little shakier. "Or… at least part of one. If there's something wrong with me, I want to work on it!"

He saw the earnestness in her eyes, but behind that he saw fear. Her hands were trembling ever so slightly, gripping the fabric of her skirt. He closed his eyes, as if he could will the sight away. "I'm sorry."

She was surprised, but held her ground. "That's… not good enough. That's not what I came here to hear."

"Nothing I say will be good enough," he said lowly. "You won't get the answer you're looking for."

Her lips formed a thin line. "Why are you being like this? Why won't you answer me?"

His eyes snapped open. "If I'm avoiding your question, don't you think it might be because I don't want to tell you?" he said harshly.

"And why not!?"

He frowned. "You can't do anything about it," he said at last. "What good do you think it will do to tell you? You can't fix it, Estelle. I need to be alone."

She made no effort to leave. "But… maybe I can—"

"What is it that you want to hear, Estelle?" he snapped, standing up to face her.

"I… I don't—"

"What are you expecting me to say!?" he roared, indifferent disposition shot to hell.

"I—"

"Because I'm in love with you – is that what you want to hear!?"

It took a moment for his mind to register what he had just said aloud. He bit his tongue and immediately wished he could take it all back. He'd lost his cool, and he was angry and tired and sick, and she just had a way of getting things out of him, but all the excuses in the world couldn't retract that last sentence. All he could do was stare blankly at her, waiting for her to respond, the thrumming in his head and his chest getting louder by the second.

He wasn't expecting her voice to be small and shaky when she spoke. "I… I can handle your sarcasm, your apathy, and your harsh words. But to mock my feelings…" Her lip trembled and she blinked back tears. She swallowed. "I never imagined you could be so cold."

Yuri tried to say something but his voice caught in his throat. No. That isn't… That wasn't— She turned on her heel and left before any words could form in his mouth. He watched her as she ran.

The truth, Yuri realized, was a dangerous thing, and it twisted his stomach into slippery knots.

He was in love with her, and everything made sense. He was in love with her, and that revelation made everything that much worse.

He had a darker side to him that he couldn't keep at bay. It filled him with guilt, with doubt, with anger. He could be harsh, unruly, a cold and arrogant bastard. He was a murderer, and he'd almost killed her by his own hand, based on some moral code he hadn't quite figured out. He would hurt her, let her down, tear her apart. He couldn't be in love with her; he shouldn't be in love with her.

But try as he might to force it back down, that twisted, awful truth would inevitably claw its way back to the surface.

His body heavy and his mind reeling, he made his way back to the cast-iron bed. Acknowledging for once the painful ache in his chest, he folded in on himself and let himself collapse.