Twice Upon A Sword

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Chapter 25- Realities Regrets

--Vincenzo POV--

Why did I do that? Why did I say that?

She didn’t do anything wrong, it was as she just said. They were simply dancing and it was with Silas so why would I get jealous?

Jealous.

I was jealous?

Never before, I’ve never been jealous of anyone or anything before.

Until now. Why?

What was so special about this woman?

She was pretty but there were lots of pretty people in the world so why? Why was I hating myself so much after all this? What was she doing to me?

“400 years,”

She blinked and a single teardrop trailed down her cheeks.

I reached my hand out to wipe it away but stopped when I realised that I was the cause of the tears. With that thought, my hand came back to rest by my side.

“That’s how long it’s been since I cried... but you changed it, well done,” She smiled at me. Unlike all the other times where my heart skipped a beat, this time, it throbbed in pain.

“You’re right. I have no right to be happy since I’m simply a puppet that came from a sword, I’m a mage that you woke up and I belong to you up until you make your wish but let me get one thing straight...”

I watched as she wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

“You own Achilles, you own my magic and you own me... but that’s all. Do whatever you want with that but you’ll never own Eleanora because she belongs to me... I’m my own person no matter what. My mentality, my emotions, all of that is mine and only mine, it’ll never be yours. Not today, not in a thousand years, never!”

“I may just be a mage that belongs to you simply because you were the first one to hold the hilt of a sword but that’s all. I’m still my own person and that will never belong to you,”

I was at a loss for words.

“It’s all my fault... for thinking I could be happy with a man like you after 400 years, it’s all my fault for hoping for such a far-fetched dream. I should have known my life was over when Arturo put that sword through me... I’m dead,”

“Eleanora-”

“It’s okay. It’s my fault,” She cut me off and I bit my lip. “It’s all my fault,” She repeated before closing her eyes and breathing in a deep sigh.

When she opened her eyes again and looked up at me, I truly felt as if a hundred swords had been plunged right through my chest, almost staggering back in pain.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to go back to my chambers...” She waited for me to do something and so I nodded, simply staring at her as she turned and walked away.

It’s not your fault. It’s mine.

For being such a jealous, pathetic, idiot.

Donatello was right.

I’m lovesick.

And I messed up.

I wasn’t able to sleep well that night, or the next night or the one after that. I tried working instead but I couldn’t focus on that either.

Regret wasn’t a big enough word to describe what it was that I was feeling right now. Every attempt I made to apologise to her, I’d get interrupted or I simply wouldn’t be able to get the words out and not because I thought I was too good for it but rather because I thought I wasn’t good enough for her.

Her smiles which I had taken for granted disappeared and I didn’t see her as much anymore since she made sure to stay away from me and mingled around my sister or Amira who decided to stay for a few days after the festival.

“You messed up,” I looked up to see my mother come into the office and she sat on the seat opposite my desk.

“I know,” I groaned into my hands.

“What did you even say to her?” She asked and I groaned again, thinking back to the words that I had said to her. It was in a state of rage and I didn’t mean a single word but I knew I couldn’t take it back since it had already been said and they hurt her.

“Horrid, terrible, mean, hurtful things that you don’t want to know,” I slumped forward onto the desk with the words I said echoing through my mind like an alarm bell. I deserved it.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?” Mother asked.

“What can I do? I never even see her anymore. She’s always with Charlotte or Amira,” I glared at the wall beside my mother’s head.

“Amira left this morning,” Right, I was supposed to wave her off but I forgot.

“If it helps, she’s in the library after dinner, every day... without Charlotte or anyone else being there with her,” I looked at my mother and she smiled.

“I thought I raised you to respect women and be a gentleman but you’re a womanizer who sleeps with women all the time and we all know you weren’t much of a gentleman to Eleanora three days ago,”

“I don’t want to have a conversation about my playboy self with you,” I looked away, resting my hand on my palm and she chuckled.

“When was the last time you slept with someone?”

“Mother...” I massaged my temples and she laughed at me, standing up from her seat and leaned down to kiss the top of my head.

“It was before you met Eleanora,” She answered and the fingers on my forehead paused in the realisation that she was right. Right, I haven’t slept, let alone touched, a woman after I met Eleanora that day.

“Ugh,” Now I know I really messed up.

“Words are like a sharp blade so you have to choose them carefully. My dream in life is to see my children be happy and Eleanora makes you happy, I know,” She wiggled her brows and I rolled my eyes at her.

She wasn’t wrong.

“What should I do?” I asked.

“Apologise,” She simply answered.

“That’s not good enough,” I mumbled.

“Trust me, depending on how you feel. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ can take you far. Sincerity is key and you need to be able to show her that,”

“By showering her with gifts or getting down on my knees and begging, which kind of sincerity are you after?”

“What would make her happy?” I paused, thinking over her words.

What makes Eleanora happy?

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