Third Person’s POV
Lanceil had just finished preparing the dinner when he heard the door open with a thud.
Assuming it was his brother, Vincent, he left the kitchen to inform him that they could now eat.
However, his steps halted when he spotted Agatha instead.
She was the woman he longed to see and hold close. Despite his desire to embrace her, he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move as if gravity had a firm grip on him.
"Lanceil," Agatha called out.
Upon learning of Agatha's deceitful mission to seduce him, Lanceil was consumed by a mix of anger, betrayal, and disappointment.
He had vowed not to show any mercy when they next met. He was certain he could cast her aside along with his feelings for her. Yet, those convictions crumbled in the face of his deep love for her. He was willing to forgive her, provided she confessed and sought his forgiveness.
He envisioned welcoming her into his arms, kissing her, and hearing her explanation.
"You're here," he finally replied, swallowing his pride.
"Y-Yes," she responded, avoiding his gaze. "I apologize for disappearing so suddenly without informing you."
"Hmm."
"Lanceil." Their eyes met once more. She nervously gripped the edge of her skirt before speaking with difficulty, "I wish to resign, Sir."
She mentioned resigning. Agatha worked as his maid, but Lanceil could sense the deeper meaning behind her words. They were still in a relationship, and her request hinted at a desire to end it.
'No, that's not what she wants,' Lanceil silently protested as he observed her.
Agatha bit her lip, releasing the painful words, "I don't believe I can continue serving as your maid due to my shortcomings. I'm truly sorry, Sir."
‘I don’t think I can keep being your lover. I apologize,’ Lanceil interpreted her words in a similar manner.
Lanceil's anger surged once more, settling deep within his weary heart. His jaws clenched tightly, his fists pulsating with tension, and his eyes ablaze with a fiery red hue. He longed to unleash his fury upon her, demanding an apology and an explanation. Was everything merely a facade? But instead, he remained silent, his breath held captive within his chest.
Agatha glanced down at her restless fingers, her palms tightly pinched together. Inwardly, she repeated a mantra, desperately hoping for a single response. She pleaded with her tears to stay concealed, even as her throat burned with an unspoken ache. Yet...
"Why? Have you already accomplished your mission? Is that why you no longer need me?" Lanceil's voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt.
A solitary tear escaped from Agatha's eyes. Lanceil pressed on.
"Did you take pleasure in toying with my heart, Agatha?" he questioned.
As a single tear rolled down her widened eyes, it symbolized the crumbling walls she had so carefully built. Her tears continued to flow endlessly as she looked back at him, like an unstoppable dam. The origins of Lanceil's knowledge didn't matter to her, nor did the sources from which he had heard it. The when and how held no importance in her heart. All she wanted was to hold him, to kneel before him, and to passionately declare her genuine love for him.
However, she couldn't help but question the point of it all. They were destined to be apart, their union an impossibility. With this sad realization, she closed her eyes, shutting out the world. Amidst the countless words she wanted to say...
"I'm sorry," was all she could say.
Sorry.
She didn't offer any explanation, confirming his worst fear - that her love for him wasn't real.
Lanceil had bravely opened his heart once again, only to be hurt in the most painful way. She had shattered his trust, his ego, his very existence... everything. The desire for revenge surged within him, but he couldn't give in to it. Even as his eyes filled with tears of anger, his love for her remained unwavering.
Stupid.
Fool.
Dumb.
Worthless.
He embraced all of these curses willingly. He understood that from now on, he wouldn't anticipate the coming days, or perhaps even forever. Nevertheless, he clung to the hope of a happy ending. If God could hear his prayers, he would beseech Him to grant him the happiness he truly deserved.
"Just this once. Please. I won't ask for anything more," he whispered through tearful sobs.
"Are you sure you want to leave?" It was his final attempt.
Their tear-filled eyes locked. The atmosphere grew heavy, and all sounds faded away except for the pounding of their hearts.
"I love you," his plea echoed in her ears. "Just that. If you can say those words to me, then... then..."
I'll hold onto you. I'll be by your side. I'll continue loving you.
But Lanceil couldn't finish his plea as Agatha swiftly replied, "I'm sorry, Lanceil."
Lies.
Lies.
If she truly isn't lying, then why does she weep as if he is her entire world? As if she can't live without him?
But despite everything, he had reached his breaking point. She discarded him, and that alone was enough for him to surrender. Lanceil turned his gaze away, his breaths coming out in heavy bursts before he uttered, "Leave."
Agatha was left speechless, unable to utter a single word in response.
Lanceil continued, "I won't be here tomorrow, so pack your belongings. Now, go." He bit down on his trembling lip, adding, "And never dare to appear in front of me again."
Agatha didn't dare to reply. She turned around, dragging her feet towards the door. It felt like an eternity until she finally reached the doorknob and stepped outside.
Once he was no longer within her line of sight, her emotions overwhelmed her. Regret consumed her, pulling her down into the depths of darkness. Pain engulfed her, stealing her breath and causing tears to stream down her face.
Tears streamed down her face as she leaned heavily against the door, her body shaking with silent sobs. Her hands covered her mouth, trying to muffle the cries, while the other hand gripped tightly at her chest.
It’s really over.