literature

Let's face it, Ivan.

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Literature Text

"Felicia, you can't possibly be serious!" Cried the duke.
"I am serious!" She answers back, her voice as demanding and fierce as the duke's. "And there's nothing you can say that will convince me otherwise."
Ivan leaned back in disbelief, doubtful of his wife's sanity. "But to live in Russia? For an entire year?!" But he can still consider that, perhaps, her maternal instincts are kicking in again.
"The closest I can be to my only daughter, Ivan."
"Szelerem, she's 17 years old..." Ivan reasoned. "She's no longer a toddler that you have to spoon feed every few hours!"
Felicia groaned, placing her forehead on her hand as she leaned forward on the table separating them. "I just.." She sighed, "It just feels like something dreadful is going to happen to her, Ivan." Said a voice holding back tears. Ivan couldn't see her expression, but he knows exactly what she may be feeling at that exact moment. "Something probably already happened." Added a voice strewn with dread. She sprung up as she did, prompting Ivan to lean over and grab her shoulders, pulling her gently to settle back to resting her head on her hand. Both hands moved to her upper arm and squeezed them gently in an attempt to comfort her, something she rarely sees him do.
"Felicia." He began. She peers up to him with sunken eyes. "Szerelmem. You told me yourself - she'll be fine."
"How are you so sure, Ivan? You barely know her.." she says, breaking free from his hold and leaning back on her seat with arms crossed, her gaze set on the passing view outside the window. Night shrouds the sky, and the rising moon hold nothing but distance recollection of memories gone by. "She grew up seeing you as the war General you once were; holding nothing but a whip of undying expectations." He was speechless to even retort, and instead lets his hands drop and rest on the table, listening to what else she has to say. "You and me both envisioned such a glorious path for her, Ivan. A wife of powerful duke, and she herself a duchess grandeur. Or better! To marry a prince and see her rise higher than we ever could!"
"A queen..?" he breathed.
"But what do you know of her?"
"I-"
"I know for fact that she would often spend her nights out in the garden, bawling by the pond. That in our absence, Vienna would be her only mode of comfort after long sessions of training and lessons. At times she would show so much hatred towards you-" Her voice softened, with sunken eyes she peered up to him - to a distraught duke. "that I, or Jozsef, would just convince her that you only have such great expectations and hopes for her."
"It.. It has hardened her." He reasons to her, despite succumbing to an underlying truth:
"It has broken her." Corrected Felicia. But when she expected finality, in the form of a her husband accepting that he may have potentially abused their only child, a thought followed the last. "I doubt it though.. She's as stubborn as you, if not more. Perhaps you're right; it hardened her."

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***insert salamander brandy here***
Evike's as stubborn as you. and just as vicious at night.



in other news,
I've more than just lost faith in my 'blood-related' family.
But I still don't have it worse, right? Someone else is still having a worse time than me, so why should I complain.
© 2013 - 2024 Veowulf
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