For all its luster and grandeur, it was difficult to find solitude in Cainhurst Castle. Each of its residents had a duty to perform and Her Majesty was keen on knowing that they were doing just that, ensuring that her subjects were easy to locate. So while the rest of the castle went about their duties, a lone figure stood still as a statue atop a rooftop overlooking the entrance to the throne room, the surrounding spires and the oncoming late-evening darkness hiding them from view.
Very few dared to venture up here, as the constant snow and lack of protective railings made traversing them perilous, with a single misstep being enough to send one plummeting to the rocks below. But this threat also guaranteed solitude, which is exactly what Maria sought – a desire that far outweighed the fear her current position fostered.
With the calm, chilly breeze brushing against her face, she looked out across the shifting waters. It had been weeks since she'd been released from the infirmary, but not long enough for her to come and go as she pleased. She was supposed to be back at her chambers, resting and recovering her strength. But as it was, she had little desire to remain there, her only company being the blade that had almost cost her her life.
That blade. Even now, Maria could hear it calling to her - beckoning her to pick it up again. And in spite of her newfound knowledge of its nature, it had taken every ounce of her willpower to leave it behind. The power it offered was intoxicating and without it, she felt…hollow. Or perhaps, because of it.
Maria's solitude would be broken when she heard the sound of crunching snow behind her. Even as it got closer and closer, she did not turn back, knowing full well who she was being joined by.
"I had a feeling I'd find you up here," came Adrian's voice.
"And I had a feeling you'd come by," she replied. "Sooner or later."
There was a brief pause where neither sibling so much as stirred, with the bitter wind blowing pieces of snow off of the rooftop and into the chasm below. "You know, it's unbecoming of nobles to be lurking around like this."
"Is that not why we used to come up here?" Maria asked him, turning her head just enough to see her brother out of the corner of her eye and the small smile that formed on his face.
"Yes, I suppose it was."
For the first time in many weeks, Maria smiled, even if slightly. It had been her who'd first proposed the idea one particularly dull night; they'd long been warned against straying off the main castle paths, but she'd always wanted to see the view from way up high and perhaps even catch a glimpse of Her Majesty herself. Adrian tried to talk her out of it at first, not wishing to incur their family's wrath, but ultimately relented and to this day, has yet to reveal their transgression to anyone.
Yet this was the first time in decades the two of them found themselves up here together, in part due to their increasingly demanding duties, but mostly due to Maria finally realizing its inherent dangers. Truth be told, she did not know why she felt compelled to come up here. Though the spot on which they stood was relatively safe, she nonetheless kept a sizable distance between her and the edge of the rooftop, not daring to look down. Had Adrian not found her, she would've likely stayed there, frozen and unwilling to move.
Though, she supposed there was a fleeting comfort to be found here. A reminder of simpler times. Before they both changed.
"How are you feeling?" As she spoke, Maria once again turned her face away.
"I should be asking you that. Aren't you supposed to be resting?" A perfectly valid question, and one that let him go without addressing hers.
"I've been resting," Maria said in reply.
"Then am I to understand you've regained your full strength?" Adrian followed up, leaving her unsure of how to answer. Her body had surely recovered, but she could not say the same for her spirit.
"Thanks to you, brother."
He fell silent then, as if realizing he could not avoid addressing the matter any longer. "What was I to do, Maria?" Adrian spoke so quietly that his words were almost lost in the wind, but there was no mistaking his resolve. He had no regrets - a sentiment she wished she shared.
"I understand the choice you made," said Maria. "But I am sorry you had to make it."
"There was no choice to make! You were going to die - I couldn't…" "I was not meant to live!"
As the words escaped her lips, she turned sharply towards her brother, who backed away in shock. Seeing the hurt and confusion on his face, Maria immediately regretted her outburst. But as much as she wanted to apologize, she simply couldn't find the proper words, leaving it to Adrian to break the silence.
"So that's it, then? This is how you wish to honor their memory?"
"No, you don't understand, I…!"
"You're right, I don't!" he exclaimed. "I want to understand, but how could I?! You've made it all but impossible!"
Adrian's words were visceral; his distress and frustration palpable. A part of her wanted him to understand, too, but another feared that it would only widen the gulf between them. "I told you. I do not need your concern," was what she eventually said, though it would've been wiser to stay silent.
"Concern?" he repeated, as if in disbelief. "No, Maria. I fear for you. I cannot stand idly by and watch you destroy yourself, because you will destroy yourself. And you know it, too!"
A bitter wind blew through, battering Maria's motionless, despondent face. She wanted to say something; to assure him that his fears were unfounded, but she couldn't. Her mind was in turmoil: grief, anger and doubt all coming together in a perfect, crippling storm. She didn't know what to do. Not anymore.
Lowering her gaze and tightly pressing her arms to her chest, Maria turned back towards the sea, doing all she could to hold back the tears that threatened to form. For a moment, she lost herself in her thoughts, trying in vain to get them in order. Twice she'd put her life on the line and twice it had been saved, but not without sacrifice. A sacrifice that never should've been made - not for her.
She almost didn't notice her brother coming to stand beside her and when she did become aware, she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. Regardless of the tense words they'd exchanged, his presence offered some semblance of comfort. At the very least, he was not yet lost to her.
"What happened?"
Despite Adrian's question, her silence endured. And even though she needed no clarification, he provided it nonetheless. "I know you, Maria. You would never abandon your men or endanger their lives for your own gain. And the same could be said for them. So I ask again. What happened?"
At long last, her version of events was being put under scrutiny, just as she knew it would eventually be. She had prepared an answer for the event he, or anyone else, decided to pursue it, reaffirming that what she told the Queen was the truth and nothing but the truth. But in spite of this, she remained silent. Most would simply accept her words and not question her further…but not Adrian. He saw right through her.
"They disobeyed me," she answered truthfully. "The guardian we faced was too powerful for us to defeat, even together. And so, I ordered them to take the blood and run while I covered their escape…but they came back for me. And abandoned our prize to do so."
Perhaps unexpectedly, there wasn't a hint of shock on Adrian's face. "Of course, they did," he said. "There is but one thing I don't understand. If Matthias and the others abandoned the Old Blood to save you, how did you reclaim it? How did you live to reclaim it?"
This question was one Maria did not dare to answer. There were so many ways for her to do so, many of which were fairly convincing, but all were too far from the truth. Yet somehow, her brother seemed to draw an answer from her silence, drawing a disappointed sigh in the process.
"Maria…" "It is much like you said. I had no choice," she interrupted before he could continue.
"You had a choice in how to present events to Her Majesty, did you not? And I'm certain that you did not tell her this. Assuming the decision to do so was even your own."
Choosing to ignore the accusatory tone to his words, Maria finally met his eyes and firmly at that. "You will say nothing to Queen Annalise. She must never know."
"But…" "You will say nothing, Adrian!" Yet again, she snapped at him without meaning to, though she quickly forced her anger down. Unfolding her arms and meeting his eyes, she changed her order into a request. "Please. Promise me that you will not."
"Very well," her brother said reluctantly. "But whose honor am I meant to be preserving by doing so? Yours, that of your men or of the professor with whom you formed this little accord?"
Maria had of course made no mention of Professor Laurence, or any professor at that. However, being reminded of him brought forth yet more conflicting feelings. It had been months since they had parted ways, yet every day she was reminded of the offer he'd made her and the consequences thereof. But even so, she could not bring herself to be angry with him, no matter his role in shaping her present circumstances; they were impossible for him to foresee.
These thoughts she kept to herself. Regardless of how much or how little Adrian understood about their arrangement, she did not need him getting involved in it. "That doesn't matter," she said. "But understand that right now, keeping this secret is the best thing you can do. I will handle the rest."
"Will you?" Adrian asked, clearly skeptical. "Clearly, you know better than to take these scholars at their word, so you must realize that they have their own agenda…and that they must realize the same about you. And if I understand correctly, there is one among them that surpasses even you. What will you…"
As he spoke, Maria firmly grasped both of her brother's shoulders, causing him to fall silent. "I have a plan," she assured him. "Trust me."
Her brother's response came silently. Though Maria could still see hints of doubt in his eyes, it didn't stop him from taking hold of one of her arms and giving her an understanding nod. No, not understanding - trusting. A trust that she'd been taking for granted and one that she'd failed to uphold. And yet, here he was, as he always was. He was always there for her.
She could always count on him.
Suddenly, Maria pulled him into a hug, surprising him for just a moment before he, too, embraced her. Adrian practically clung to her, as if fearing what would happen if he let her go. She remembered the sheer terror he showed before the darkness claimed her; a mere fraction of what he must've felt as he scrambled to save her. What would've become of him if he failed? Why should he suffer for her failures?
Thoughts such as this continued to fester in Maria's mind, even in the midst of what should've been a moment of comfort. To say she had a plan was far too generous; at best, she had a few loosely-connected ideas. The emotions the Chikage had stirred - her anger and hatred were very much real. They could not be denied…much like the fear that she would lose herself to them. And if she did…
"No." Maria dismissed the thought almost immediately. It would not come to that. She wouldn't let it.
As for Byrgenwerth, she cared little about whatever agenda they were pursuing. As Queen Annalise herself said, their success would be of no consequence. What mattered to her was the means by which they would attain that goal, to which she was not blind. They needed protection and seeking out the Knights of Cainhurst was no longer an option, lest they expose their deception. Luckily for them, they had an alternative - Gehrman. And without him, their research would come to a total halt. Two birds, one stone.
It wasn't that simple, of course. Maria would not be satisfied with a covert assassination. No, if she were to repay her savior, it would be with a duel to the death. But would she find peace in victory? In defeat? She did not know, and that lack of certainty made coming to a decision all but impossible.
Amidst this turmoil, her thoughts once again turned to Professor Laurence. He'd insisted that they were not enemies and had taken every effort to ensure they did not become so. It was clear to her now that he'd recognized her anger and the path it could lead her down, which is why he'd gone to such great lengths to direct her elsewhere. But what guided his heart, she wondered. Was it concern for her soul, concern for his friend or concern for his research?
Whatever his reasons, perhaps it was time that his conviction was tested.
...
