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Realistic or Modern Night’s Embrace | Private |

Viola shook her head once more at Rose, "No, there's no need for apologies to me." Besides, Viola wasn't the one that needed any apologies, for she was the outsider to the situation. If anything, the woman herself wanted to apologize for not being of much more help to either of them, only able to rely on advice she'd accumulated due to her raising five boys of her own. The comment on Viola reminding Rose of her mother had caused the faintest of smile to touch the woman's face, "Well, I would assume so. I am a mother after all." But, nonetheless Viola was flattered. She knew how beloved the late queen of the kingdom had been, granted it was only through travelers that she would hear that had visited in droves frequently before the unrest and territory wars had begun. Nonetheless, her smile had faded just as quickly as her eyebrows furrowed at Rose's next words, "...Rose.." Granted, the maid couldn't tell her otherwise.

It was a naive and innocent thought, was it not? To change a man who had butchered his family, and came from somewhere that had given him such deeply implanted trauma that his mind seemed to unravel at the slightest provocation. Viola couldn't say that Rose was alone in this, she had hoped that Emory would change for the better, that Rose's influence would make the man never have to slip back into the terrifying, twisted boy he'd been all those years ago. But.. that perhaps was just wishful thinking. Emory could not simply change in a matter of months, it would take years and even then that would probably never fully heal. He'd been broken and hurt so deeply, that Viola couldn't fathom how deep the pain truly ran, what would cause him to turn against his own family and kill innocents with a smile on his face? "It'll take a lot of effort and time for him to recover..." She gently reached out and gave Rose's hand a gentle, comforting squeeze, "I still do not know what had happened to him, but if you don't give up on him... I'm sure he'll be permanently changed for the better, one day. Just give him time... and don't give up on him." That was the last thing she knew that the man needed, after Viola had viewed how Maridel frequently treated him in his childhood days in the mansion, the woman had given up on him completely and tossed him aside, and her fate as a result had been sealed. Giving up on him was not an option, for that would just probably let him sink deeper, and Viola was already frightened with how he appeared that morning, hoping to never see him in such a way again.

Besides, Viola was already prepping herself to confront the man when he did return. She had the mind to figure out what was the source of all of this, though she knew the rough details from when he had arrived at the mansion, she knew not what happened before. It probably would be opening up old wounds, and as much as she preferred not to do so... this was for his sake and she needed to figure out what in the world she could do to help, even if that assistance would probably be as useful as a drop of rain in the ocean. For both of their sakes, they needed some help, and she would do her best to do so, even if it was meddling. She only hoped Emory wouldn't react too rashly when she did question him, knowing full well this would be after he came back from slaughter... she only hoped her heart would remain filled with as much courage as she had now. After all, she had managed to comfort Rose in mustering up her courage, surely nothing bad would come from this... right? That thought was less than comforting.

"Oh, of course I will." Her tone was gentle in response to Rose's request. It was the least she could do if Rose were to leave, and perhaps getting some fresh air would do her some good, certainly better than lingering within the mansion. Granted, Viola was more than certain that Emory would not return before Rose would, but if by chance he did... she would, as well as not allow him to dodge any question she had regarding him as well. She knew full well it was a dangerous move, but that was a risk she had to take now more than ever. She was surprised however as Rose hugged her, the maid's eyes widening in surprise only for her facial expression to thaw and warm as she had returned the hug just as tight back, "It's quite alright, I'm grateful to be of use." Her expression turned curious as Rose seemed to be looking for something, only for the woman's eyes to grow wide once more as she stared in disbelief at the jewelry box, "Oh my... you really shouldn't have.." She was at a loss for words, though this was quick to fade to gratitude as she had opened the box and revealed the necklace inside, "Oh it's lovely! Thank you truly!" The warmth in her tone was undisguised, happiness making the maid's face glow. Granted, she never would have thought that Rose would have even done such a thing, considering Maridel wasn't the best example of how a lady of the estate should act; Viola was simply thrilled.
 
Rose knew her words were true. Emory wasn’t going to be able to overcome all he had gone through in the short span she had been there. She just had hoped that he would’ve been able to begin to work on healing himself some. She knew the rumors of how he had been before she arrived. He was closed off, not allowing for anyone to dare get close to him. She managed to chop away at that hard exterior. He had thawed and the two had shared some wonderful moments. She supposed she was naive for believing what she had. “I have no plans on giving up on him. He just needs to not give up on himself.” She spoke truthfully. It was hard to overcome any trauma, especially the amount that she assumed Emory had been through. She just hoped he would allow himself to work through it instead of pushing it away like he always did. She almost snorted at the own irony in her thoughts. She had done the exact same thing he had and the consequences from her own actions were starting to take its toll on her.

She waited patiently for her reaction to the necklace she had gotten her. She didn’t know what jewelry Viola preferred as it wasn’t often she would see the woman outside of the mansion. She had gone out on a whim by buying it, but it seemed as though she had gotten it right. For the first time that day, a weak smile made its way onto her face. It was nowhere near the size her normal wines would be, but it was enough to ease any remaining worry away. “You are very welcome. It is truly the least I can do for you after all you have done for me. You truly have been so kind to me from the moment I have arrived here. I do not know where I would be without you Viola.” She confessed. The necklace was just one small thing. She planned on finding other ways to show her gratitude to Viola. She would love to increase her pay or at least find more staff to help the poor woman. The latter would be a harder thing to do. Emory didn’t seem to want to bring anyone else in. The work was far too kudu for just one person to handle. She supposed she would have to discuss it with him at a later time.

The idea of having something else such as that to discuss with him on top of what she already knew she had to was a bit overwhelming. She glanced towards the front door, deciding then that she would go out. She could find her way back to the estate easily enough and if she did happen to get lost, she was sure someone would help her. “I think I truly might go off for a ride today.” She murmured. She looked back to Viola once more. “I shouldn’t be back any later than dinner. If for some reason I am not back by then, please just set aside my portion. I will have it on my return.” Her voice was beginning to gain the strength it had been lacking before. She kneeled to pick up the paintbrush she had dropped, returning it to the spot she rested it in the basket the day before. She then closed the canister. Before moving to the door, she glanced to Viola once more. “Thank you again.” Her words were gentle. She carefully made her way to the front door then and pushed it open. Her steps were quick as she made her way to the stables.

There was a gentle breeze rustling the grass that day, swirling the warm air around. It was much better than the day prior and she knew riding on Emory’s horse would only make the temperature even more bearable. She made her way to the fence once there, allowing for the stallion to sniff her hand like she had the day she first met him. She gave his nose a gentle scratch and turned her head to look around her. She had saddled a horse before, knowing this wouldn’t be anything new. She grabbed the saddle from where it sat with a grunt at the weight of it. She rested it on the fence before she climbed over it. She balanced herself enough on it to put the saddle onto the stallion’s back. She secured it and made sure the reins were set. She led him over to the gate, shoving it open. She placed a hand on his mane before climbing carefully onto the saddle. With a quick snap of the reins, the two were soon off in the direction of the mountains.
 
Viola smiled brightly at Rose, relief flowing through her at the faint smile that had eventually crossed the younger woman's face. Of course, she would inevitably react in embarrassment at Rose's gratitude, although graciously accepting it, "T-thank you." Honestly, Viola wasn't sure if she had done enough for Rose, but hearing that she had made a little difference even at all was a blessing in of itself. So, rising to her feet, the maid had then closed the box, holding it close to her as she continued listening to Rose's words, bowing her head toward her as she said in her usual polite tone, returning to how she was supposed to be acting, "Of course, take your time." She knew well enough that Rose would need as much time as possible to herself to clear her mind, going outside for fresh air and relaxation would do her far better than staying in the mansion for the whole day. At her words of gratitude yet again, Viola had huffed, "Honestly, you needn't shower me with too much praise!" A gentle scold, though not too serious of course, the woman appreciated that Rose valued her enough to thank her, evident by the warmth reflected in the woman's eyes. It was only when the front door had closed yet again had Viola's smile faded and her expression saddened as she peered at the entryway once more, murmuring, "I hope I can do more for you both... no, I must." Her hands clenched tighter around the jewelry box, resolute in her decision. She would not back down from Emory when he inevitably returned, she couldn't allow it. Not this time.
... Hours later - Minutes to Midnight ...​
The sound of the carriage rattling set Emory's nerves on edge, the carriage itself feeling constricting as it usually would. Cold golden eyes peered empty at the landscape as the sentry sitting before him had spoken, the man, Mathias' voice being softer perhaps due to the still foul mood that Emory was in, "You've done well today, my lord." An empty praise, and clear satisfaction reflected in the other male's gaze over Emory's all too recent slaughter. The reek of blood still lingered on his hands, some still tinged around his fingernails, and his attire... there was no saving it, he probably would need to discard or burn it. Blood was difficult to get out after all, and there was no need when he had replacements. "..It wasn't enough." That was his simple response, agitated in each word spoken, his finger beginning a nervous tap against his cheek. Yes, it wasn't enough to ease the filthy feeling still in his chest, to make the painful memories fade. No, it only seemed to make them worse, though perhaps he was doing this on purpose? Self-sabotage wasn't something that Emory was unfamiliar with, but perhaps this habit was formed to only remind himself that such happiness wasn't meant for him. He didn't deserve it, for what was he if nothing more than a monster? Yes, that was it.

Lying to yourself will only make it worse after all. Emory's gaze shifted toward the mansion slowly coming into view again, noticing a light still streaming in through the windows... was Viola still there? Why? She should have returned home hours before... ah, that's right. She knew his habits well by now. That thought made his stomach churn and twist, a bitter smile coming to cross his face, as his golden eyes darkened. She knew him far too well to prepare to clean up his messes, when he was incapable of doing such himself. His already broken mind was straining to drag pieces back together, but such pieces only remained scattered, he was not himself... or was he more like himself than he had been in weeks? Whatever gentle side had latched itself onto him, he couldn't afford for it to linger. That'll only get himself hurt with such foolishness. And Rose... she..

The thought of Rose caused a surge of pain to flare in his chest as his hand clenched tightly then, the tapping being forced to stop. Was she afraid of him this morning? In the haze, even if he couldn't figure out exactly what was going on through her mind, he could detect fear. I suppose I still am not good enough. His eyes shifted down to his bloodied clothes, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. There was no use hiding what he was anymore anyways. If she ran from him, it would be his own doing, but perhaps that was for the best? He was lowering his guard down too much around her to begin with, what love could she possibly hold for him? It must be all a lie after all, a cruel lie at his expense. That was right, he wasn't normal, he wasn't a saint, he wasn't even a good person.

He didn't deserve her love now, and he wouldn't deserve it in the future either.

This thought caused the shattered pieces in his mind to crack further, a bitter and probably misguided thought, but to him it was true. What "love" he deserved was the same "love" he'd been given when he was a child, unwanted, suffocating, enough to make him cry and beg and plead for it to stop. A "love" that made him want to die. That was what he deserved, for he brought nothing but misfortune it seemed to those around him, he was nothing but a danger to them, and he would not fool himself to think otherwise. The unhealthy thoughts piled up one after another, making his heart sink deeper and deeper into his chest as he felt like it was getting harder for him to breathe, only for Mathias to break through his spiraling misery with a simple, "We're here, Lord May." This caused Emory to finally focus upon the front door of the mansion, feeling as if he couldn't move for a few seconds only for him to force himself, no response to the sentry leaving his lips which wasn't uncharacteristic. All of his sentries were used to him being cold and unwelcoming, this was what he was supposed to be, what he had to be to protect himself. He would not allow himself to be hurt again.

Stepping out of the carriage, Emory's heavy footfall was slow as he approached the front door, eventually opening it and stepping inside, the bright light of the dining hall making his eyes squint, adjusting to the sudden brightness as his gaze landed on Viola, the maid standing resolute before the stairway, her expression firm and unwavering, eyes staring for the first time directly into his own. This made the man's expression tighten as he closed the door behind him, his golden eyes slowly drifting over Viola's form only to see her beginning to tremble, a clear sign of fear. Typical. What else was he expecting? That she wouldn't lose that fear that she saw him with? He would be a fool to think their relationship had changed, and she would as well. "Lord May... Emory. We need to talk." Her tone was firm, serious as her brown eyes narrowed, a rare sign of her trying to be assertive. And to call him by his first name? Now this was unusual. Surprise managed to soften his features for only a second, only for his expression to grow cold once more.

"There's nothing for us to talk about." That was his first response. What, was she to chastise him for going out to kill others again? To bloody and dirty his hands in the Black Market like he had been doing for ten years? It was far too late for him to change his disgusting habits for now. Viola's hands clenched tightly, still blocking the stairway as Emory took a step forward, his shoes leaving blood behind on the wooden floor, "Yes, I do believe there is something we need to talk about now. And I'm not going to allow you to run from me, not this time." This made the man visibly pause, eyebrows furrowing as his unfocused gaze seemed... confused. The maid's expression became softer then, concerned as she said in a gentle tone, a tone soft enough to disturb the shattered pieces rattling about in his empty heart, "I want to know, what happened to make you like this? What hurt you, Emory? Who did? Please... I want to help you heal. It's not healthy for you to be this way."

"...It's not your place to know." A harsh and immediate sentence as his face contorted, his breathing quickened as the step forward had been retracted, stepping away from her this time, backing up toward the front door. Get away from me. Don't look at me. Stop looking at me. These thoughts echoed in the back as his mind as he now couldn't look directly at Viola as she took a step forward, "I know that I'm stepping out of line but I only wish to help. You can't keep it bottled up inside-"

"I can do whatever I damn please!" He snapped, anger causing his voice to raise, his breathing quickening further, eyes seeming cornered again, "Do you think that you can help me? Me?!" He placed a hand on his chest, a bitter laugh leaving his lips, "You can't do a fucking thing! I don't need your help, I don't need anyone's help!" Stay away from me. Don't look at me. Please. Viola stepped back, her eyes wide, "Emory-" The way she spoke his name caused the agitation to flare in his chest, he once against stepped back, the mansion before him seeming to once again be filled with blood from the day he'd taken over, and yet Viola didn't change before his eyes, she merely kept looking directly at him... a disgusting creature. "Emory please, let me listen to you. Let me help." Stay away from me.
 
Rose lost track of the time that she spent out that day. The ride towards the mountains had been much farther than she had anticipated for it to be. She allowed for the air gusting past her to help ease her mind and clear her thoughts from what had been occurring before. She closed her eyes for a few moments as the breeze hit her face. It was much cooler than the air that had been earlier. She almost couldn’t feel the sun beating down on her. She slowly reopened them, her grip on the reins tightening slightly. Emory hadn’t been lying when he suggested that Echo was a rather spirited horse. It had taken her most of the ride to adjust to the manner in which he galloped. She soon grew to appreciate it, knowing that she would want to take him out for many more rides in the future. The horse seemed to enjoy the opportunity to stretch its legs. It wasn’t too much longer until she spotted exactly what she had been looking for.

At the base of the mountains were endless fields of wildflowers. Different colors stretched beyond where her eyes could see. For the first time in a while, she found herself feeling truly at peace. She pulled at the reins to get his galloping to a stop. She slowly slid off of the saddle, reaching down to fix her dress. The aroma of the flowers hit her nostrils now that her movement had stopped. A gentle smile had come onto her face as she stepped forward, walking slowly through the field. She trusted Echo enough to let him graze while she enjoyed what time she could here. With all that was to be happening within this next week, she didn’t know when she would have the next chance to come back. The summer sun would dampen the flowers to a point where they wouldn’t be as beautiful. She knew the temperatures would be cooler here though. It would be the perfect place for her to get away to and just maybe take Emory to.

The thought of the young lord caused that familiar well of emotion to enter her chest once more. She had plenty of time to think on what had happened and with Viola’s push, she knew she would need to tell him all that occurred with Blaine. It was only fair for him to understand that she didn’t fear him, she feared the memories that were being brought forward once more. She hoped it would be enough to allow Emory to feel comfortable in sharing what happened with him. She wanted to know the entire story if she could. It was something that she had been wondering for a long time now and after this morning, she needed to know. She wanted to be able to avoid triggering him in the way that she had. He didn’t deserve to suffer in silence.

A gentle sigh left her lips as she slowly took a seat. She spent much of the day in the actual field itself, enjoying the feeling of the sun upon her skin. She only forced herself up once she began to see the sun setting in the sky. The journey back would take her well after the night had fallen and she didn’t want to lose sight of the main pathway to get back to the manor. She carefully climbed back onto the saddle, taking the reins back in her hands. She felt a bit more rejuvenated, like the weight from everything that had occurred wasn’t too much for her to handle. She hoped it would stay that way, but she doubted she would. It seemed she was never able to escape what had happened in her past. Even when she confronted it, she was never able to get away from it for long. She at least had some help this time though. Viola made it abundantly clear that she was there for her and she believed Emory would do the same.

She arrived back to the stables with the moon high in the sky and the stars shining above. The breeze was still present and the wind was gusting more, yet the sky was as clear as it had been during the day. She removed both the saddle and the reins from Echo before returning them to where they had been sitting. She then began to trek back through the field and towards the mansion. The heavy feeling she had before returned the moment she stepped through the door. It had been silent, something she expected. She recalled Viola saying Emory wouldn’t be back until much later. She made her way towards the kitchen and enjoyed a small amount of the dinner she had missed. Her stomach had untwisted, but her appetite hadn’t fully returned. She then decided to make her way to bed. She wanted to give Emory his space that night, so she made her way towards her own room. She believed she could confront him about it all in the morning when they both might be in better mindsets.

After changing into a nightgown, she laid down beneath the heavy comforters she had grown so used to. Sleep couldn’t find her though. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling above her. She shifted multiple times, rolling onto her side and then her stomach before returning to her back. She didn’t couldn’t find a position that helped her doze off. She brought an arm up to cover her eyes, letting out a few grumbled as she did so. She hadn’t heard the front door to the mansion open, but she did hear the muffled exclamations coming from someone. Emory. She immediately dropped her arm and sat up, turning her head to the door. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before deciding to see if everything was alright. She knew he wouldn’t be talking to himself which meant Viola was still there. She pushed the comforter off of her, quickly standing. She then made her way to her door and pushed it open. Her steps were quite as she made her way down the hall towards the stairs. She paused near them. “Emory?” She inquired, her voice stronger than it had been before. Her body didn’t hold that fear that it had that morning either. She just looked to him with a concerned expression. In the light, she could see the blood that was drenching his clothes. She noticed the mark of his footsteps on the floor. Her expression tightened some, but the fear didn’t show still.
 
Emory's head snapped up to the sound of Rose's voice, the sound of her voice alone seeming far louder than it usually would. He could see her at the top of the stairs, the cold expression on his face unwavering as he struggled to see her reaction to him... but there was no fear, not this time. The slight tightening of her expression was all he could see, but even then he wasn't sure what that meant, but his mind wouldn't allow him to accept that as nothing. She probably was disgusted seeing him like this... right? But, there was no disgust in her eyes either, so what was she thinking? What was she feeling? Did he even want to know? His jaw clenched tightly, teeth grinding against each other in agitation as he lowered his gaze immediately, a flash of shame crossing his expression as he felt uncomfortable. The step he'd taken back was followed by another, the front door being so close... he could escape if he wanted to, hide away from their view. Stop looking. Stop looking. It was getting harder to breathe, even in the spacious room of the entry hall, it felt as if the walls were beginning to close in around him, bloodied walls, bloodied floors...

"Emory," He flinched at his name being spoken again, his golden eyes shifting back to Viola who now was frowning at him, whatever gentle expression that had been upon her face had solidified into firm determination once more, as if she had recovered her lost resolve after he'd snapped at her. "Don't run from this. Not again." She shook her head at him, the warm brown of her eyes filled with nothing but concern for his behalf, "You've gone far too long like this, you need to talk, it may feel impossible but-"

"Don't you dare tell me what I need to do." A defense immediately, his hands trembling as he cut off Viola's sentence, anger flaring to life in his haunted eyes, "I'm not a child-"
"Well you're acting like one!" That sentence cut him off, Viola's shoulders squaring as frustration sparked in her eyes, her hands clenching together, "Running away from this constantly and pushing away the people who care about you, who love you is not going to do you any favors! All it's going to do is make you feel more resentment, and you'll keep being miserable for every day of your life! Is that what you want, Emory?! Because I sure as hell don't know what is going through your mind! All you'll wind up doing would be destroying yourself, is that what you want?! To spend the rest of your days in that hellhole that you keep crawling back to; because this-" She waved to him, pointing at the bloodied floors as she hissed, "This is only making the problem worse! You won't get better this way, not for you, not for Rose, not for anyone!"

Silence fell then, heavy as Emory glared at the woman before him, granted not once had someone yelled at him in such a way before... at least not out of concern. The trembling in the maid hadn't stopped, he could tell there was still genuine fear there underneath Viola's foolish bravery. But, she desired to break away his armor, crack the shell and see the disgusting insides? His hands clenched tightly into fists, nails biting deep into his bloodied palms, his silence stretching on for an uncomfortable amount of time which made Viola obviously nervous, her hands wringing together underneath his icy glare, his lips parted in the beginnings of a sentence, only for it to die immediately. He was no fool, he knew she was right, but... he didn't want anyone to see, anyone to come closer. I'm scared. That one thought rang out in the back of his mind as he felt his legs trembling, whatever anger having been washed away by a surge of terror. The vulnerability, the fear was beginning to leak through his expression, despite how hard he was trying to hold it back, it was enough to show in his eyes that whatever was running through his mind was anything but good.

This change in expression had caused Viola's own frustrated one to change to one of remorse, "Emory.." She began, hesitant as the man's face progressively grew more and more vulnerable as bits and pieces of the cold expression had fallen away leaving the expression she'd seen when he had been just a boy, empty and broken. The sight made her breath catch in her throat as her eyes grew wide, the emptiness in his eyes enough to make her take a step back, an apology beginning to form upon her lips. Did she push too much? Did she break what little sanity the man had? She never wanted to see such an expression on his face again, for that shown such raw pain that it was enough to make her feel an intense amount of guilt. The maid looked over her shoulder, a flicker of surprise crossing her face upon seeing Rose, so fixated on Emory had she been that she'd not seen the young woman or really had heard her, "Lady Barclay, I-" Did she make everything worse? This anguish shown as clear as day upon the woman's face as she looked back and forth between Emory and Rose, though her words indeed needed to be said, perhaps she had been a bit too harsh. He wasn't in his right mind right now, she needed to be far more delicate, but with how stubborn the young lord was, it probably would have been nothing but futile.
 
Rose hadn’t expected for the other male to immediately look towards her once she spoke his name. She believed he would just ignore her as he had done before. It seemed to be in his cards to. This version of Emory was not one she recognized. She heard rumors that this was how he truly acted, that this was his true self. She had pushed them aside due to her faith in bringing him away from whatever coldness he held onto. She didn’t move from her spot though and her expression didn’t change. The fear was still there, still trying to push its way forward but she refused to let it. Emory wasn’t the one who had done those things to her. It was Blaine. Blaine had beaten her senseless. Blaine had used her body to try to produce an heir. Blaine had locked her away, pushing her past a break point. He had done all of those things to her because he viewed her as less than a human.

Emory had nothing to do with it. She knew that Emory would never do that to her.

He was the first person to make her feel loved, to show her the caring nature that came with a relationship. He had rushed off to save her life even when he barely knew her. He allowed her the freedom she had been lacking, the freedom she craved for years. He let her decorate the mansion in whatever way she wanted to and had supported her in every step she had taken. He managed to make her laugh and smile again, even when she believed she might not anymore. Emory was everything she needed and far more. He renewed her faith in love and made her realize a completely new side to herself. He would never do this to you. It was Blaine that did, not Emory. The thought repeated in her mind a few times, a reassurance to recognize just where she was. At that moment, she knew she couldn’t allow for him to drown within this like she had been drowning herself. She had opened her mouth to speak, though she was cut off by Viola.

Shock filled her at the way Viola snapped at Emory, not believing the maid had it in her to do so. She turned her head to look back to Emory, to gage his reaction to it. He seemed to crumble in that moment. Her steps down the stairs were quick as she moved towards him. Her expression clearly held the concern that she felt in that current moment in time. She paused near Viola, reaching out to grab her hand for a moment. “It’s alright Viola. I know it needed to be said. I just couldn’t find the words to.” She murmured. She gave her hand a gentle, but reassuring squeeze. She mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to her for what she had said. It had needed to be spoke for quite some time now. Neither of them had the nerve to do such a thing. She only hoped that this wouldn’t break Emory down even farther than he already was.

She dropped her hand before moving to stand in front of Emory. “Emory, it’s okay.” She murmured. Her actions were much slower than they had been that morning, not wanting to startle him again. She didn’t need to have him lash out due to it. She slowly reached forward, grabbing his hand gently. She held it for a moment before tightening her grip. “I am here to listen if you want to speak. Viola is as well.” She ran her thumb over his knuckles softly. She looked down to the blood clearly staining them, her expression still unreadable. “I am sorry if I had done anything this morning to startle you. I hadn’t meant to. My reaction was just due to the memories of what Blaine had done to me. I was scared in that moment, not of you but of him.” She explained in a soothing tone. She knew she would still need to talk to him about it all. It was a conversation she was dreading. She lifted her gaze to look at his face in hopes of finding something.
 
Viola's lips pressed in a tight, tense line as Rose had quickly approached, though Rose's reassurance without a doubt was welcome. A simple nod was her response to her gratitude, though the maid cast a worried glance toward Emory, even if it needed to be said... this was the result. The man's expression had yet to recover, his silence being nothing but unnerving. To the maid, she couldn't even begin to understand what pain he was experiencing behind such empty golden eyes. Granted, Viola was relieved he'd not reacted violently, as he typically would be whenever he was in such foul moods prior to being interacted with. If anything, her outburst could have costed her life, and considering he'd been out slaughtering for his clients, it wouldn't be unheard of if he would cut her down or even crush her if he wanted. With trembling limbs, Viola had stepped back, returning to her previous position of standing before the end of the stairway, hands clasped before her as her fingers nervously fidgeted, observing as Rose approached the man who now was standing as still as a statue.

Emory's gaze wasn't focused at this moment, with Rose's slow approach the man's eyes followed her as she spoke, her movements slow and deliberate. Her gentle touch made his body jolt, as if he'd been shocked, granted her touch wasn't unwelcome, it was... strange. His mind wasn't able to keep up with the sensation for long as her hand gripped his own tighter, the soft sensation of her thumb over his bloodied knuckles was calming, an anchor to keep his mind fixated on what really was happening and providing something to block out the memories beginning to surge. And then, came her apology, explaining in as soothing a tone that she could, he wasn't the one she was afraid of, that it was memories of Blaine that had caused her to react in such a manner. Did she think him a fool?

"...As if that makes it any better." His voice was rough, though as he gazed down at her, the pain began to flow once more, "I never wanted... never needed for any action that I take to remind you of him." His hand immediately ripped away from her grasp, as if it burned to touch her, his expression turning more anguished as his breathing was still uneven, "I..." For a second, a mere second in Rose's place from mere memories, his own mother gazed back at him, the green of her eyes appearing disgusted, dismissive. His face paled as his legs gave way underneath him, staring at Rose as if he'd seen a ghost, only for tears to begin to swell up in his eyes; and once more they fell. The sight of the man merely sitting as if terrified, unable to move was shocking. He'd never, not once had allowed himself to disgrace himself in such a manner before anyone, however his mind never had gotten so scrambled, so agitated that it was resulting in mere delusions. "I'm sorry..." His broken apology slipped past his lips, not quite seeing Rose still, this being obvious with the look in the man's crazed eyes.

"I'm sorry.." He repeated, his hand reaching out and grasping desperately at the hem of her nightgown, bloodied fingers staining the precious fabric as his breathing was quickening, "..Don't hate me... don't leave me... please.." His mother's face still remained disgusted, still remained burning with such undisguised distain that the man could feel his heart sinking deeper in his chest. Regardless on whether he'd once hated his mother, enough to slaughter the woman, part of him always desired her love, her affection. The desire to be accepted by anyone was something that he could not discard, no matter how much he'd hardened his heart. But even if these words weren't directed at a mere phantom of memory, he still would have directed these words to Rose; to not turn her back on him, to not leave him... not yet. But, how selfish could he be? He really was nothing but a child with conflicting desires, constantly contradicting himself at every turn. Emory couldn't keep doing this, and he knew he couldn't.

His harsh breathing had begun to turn into the cadence of sobs, unable to hold them back. He'd broken down once, earlier that morning in the privacy of his own bedchambers, but he couldn't keep himself from allowing the agony to flow through, the years of trying to hold it back, to restrain his emotions until he no longer could feel them... it was too much. More tears began to fall, unable for him to stop them as he struggled to breathe, his fingers clenching tighter in the hem of Rose's nightgown as if it were a lifeline; though it very much could be. He was drifting further from reality, slipping into mere delusion and pain. "..P-please.." The plea was more desperate this time, his golden eyes swimming with tears being more unfocused than ever before.
 
Rose forced her eyes away from where their hands had been interlocked once he pulled his own away. She stared at the spot for a moment, eyebrows slowly furrowing. She knew that she needed to continue to be careful with both her actions and her words. He was already in a fragile state. If she did the wrong thing, it could make things worse than they already were. She didn’t want for that to happen as he didn’t deserve to experience anymore pain than he already was. It was then that she lifted her gaze to meet his own. “I know. It was something that I had done my best to move forward from, but I had been lying to myself when I thought I was healed. I wasn’t. I just kept pushing it down, piling more things on top of it.” She confessed. Her voice was still soft. “The events in Freycrest must’ve been too much and it all was triggered. I want to tell you about it sometime though, if you would be willing to listen. I believe—“ She broke off at the sudden change in the dullness that had taken over his golden eyes.

A soft gasp left her lips as he crumbled to the floor. Her mind was screaming at her to rush forward, to help him. She had to remind herself to not do such a thing as it would only lead to things growing even more complicated. Her fingers curled into her palm. She hadn’t noticed the faint red tint to her own hand from where she had been holding him. He was a shell of himself, a shell caused by the trauma he had gone through. He suffered by himself for such a long time due to not wanting to let anyone get close to him. It was almost like he had reverted back to being a child, desperately needing any sort of reassurance. She couldn’t blame him. From what little she had been told, he suffered far more than anyone ever should. She cast a glance over her shoulder to where Viola stood, the concern on her own face very clear in that moment in time. She only spoke when she turned to look back at Emory.

“Emory, I haven’t a clue as to what you are witnessing right now. But I am here.” Her words were a mere whisper in response to his sobs. She almost felt as though she was useless in this situation. She didn’t know exactly how to comfort him without overstepping any boundaries. She bit her bottom lip as she debated just how she might go about it. Her instincts got the better of her mind then. She slowly kneeled in front of her, being careful to not slip on the blood that was now all over the floor. She brought both of her hands up to gently cup his cheeks, thumbs running over his cheekbones to catch the tears that fell. “You are alright. No one is going to be leaving you. We love you dearly Emory. Please know that we do and we always will, no matter what.” She reassured. Her voice was a bit louder. She paused the movements of her fingers and tilted her head slightly.

She allowed herself to lean forward and place a gentle kiss to his forehead. She didn’t allow her lips to linger for long. She knew she must already be pushing her boundaries with him. After all, she didn’t know just who he was seeing and how he might react to what she was doing. She didn’t want for his mind to cause him to do something that he might regret. Her eyes scanned his face once more. “You are alright. No one hates you. We love you.” She repeated. It was a simple reassurance, truly, but one she felt was necessary with the words he was currently speaking. She allowed her hands to slip from his face to his shoulders. She shifted to wrap her arms around him, pulling him as close to her as she could. “It’s okay.” She whispered, placing another gentle kiss to the top of his head. She didn’t care that the blood that had been on his clothes was now covering her nightgown. She knew she could get another one if needed. All that mattered to her was Emory’s well-being at the current moment in time.
 
Emory's clinging fingers remained clenched as tight as possible, his panicked breathing grating even against his own ears. But, as he stared up helplessly at the phantom of his long departed mother, it was flickering between her and Rose. His scrambled mind attempted to make reason of it, that perhaps this was his just punishment for being so filthy, so disgusting. Yet, the words that left the delusion was nothing but kind, which he didn't understand until... he realized with certainty as Rose kneeled before him, it wasn't real. None of it was, as Rose's hands came up tp cup his cheeks, the gentle touch of her fingertips grazing his skin, her kind words tore deep into his heart as the phantom before him certainly would never say such gentle and warm words. Not once would his own mother even comfort him in such a way, no, she'd sooner strike him down and leave him bloodied and broken, to scream at him for his failures, to lower him beneath his half-siblings to remind himself that he wasn't supposed to be there. He never was welcome, and he sure as hell wouldn't be welcome anywhere now for the destruction and pain he brought with his accursed hands.

Rose's soft words continued to tear at him, breaking down what little stubborn walls remained as more pitiful tears stream down the man's face, "..No.." His voice cracked, struggling to speak in between the sobs as she seemed to try to reassure him that no one was leaving him, that he was loved; that no matter what he did, they would remain. Emory knew that was a lie. It was a dangerous lie, one that he couldn't allow himself to believe, not for a second. For if he did, if he allowed himself to grow complacent, someone would hurt him or he would be left alone again. As Rose's presence drew closer, he could feel the soft pressure of her hands, the phantom that taunted the edges of his vision had faded as Rose was who remained as her gentle kisses pulled more at his heart and her gentle embrace made the man tremble in her grasp... he couldn't allow himself to accept this. This gentleness, this compassion... why was she sparing it on him? His breath caught in his chest, golden eyes filled with pain, agitated as more memories were slipping through the cracks, reminding him of what he'd done, a monster in a man's flesh.

"..No.." He repeated that single denial as she assured him that it was okay, eventually causing the man's voice to raise as he struggled out of her grasp, "It's not okay!" He couldn't find the strength to get back to his feet, legs being unresponsive as he shouted, "Don't lie to me! Do you think I'm a fool?!" That was right, they would leave him. What love could they spare on someone like him? "I know that I don't deserve this, any of this! I-I can't-" His eyes flashed to the blue entryway, breathing heavy as he could imagine the walls smeared with blood once more. His immediate reaction was to reject the gentle comfort that Rose was providing, and judging alone from the anguish in his expression, he couldn't bring himself to fully accept it. As wonderful as it felt, as loving as she was... did he even deserve it? No. He knew quite well that he didn't, he didn't deserve the little good that had come into his life when Rose had entered in it. All he deserved was his suffering, his agony. It was what he was used to, it was what he had forced himself to thrive in, no matter how much his guilty and fractured mind was pushing him to his breaking point.
 
Rose had been hopeful he might accept the comfort that she was offering him. She had been rather deliberate in the way she moved in order to not startle him. It was obvious that his reality wasn’t the one they were current in. The look in his eyes showed such a thing. His expression was twisting with anguish as well, causing her heart to clench due to it. She hated seeing him in such a way. She hated not being able to do anything to help him from this. Useless. Her mind spit the word to her, though she forced herself to shove it aside. She wouldn’t continue to push, would continue to try for as long as she could. After everything he had done for her and the love they shared, it was the least she could do. She allowed for her arms to fall as he squirmed out of the gentle huff she offered. The movement caused for her to fall back onto her heels. She reached her hands to the ground in order to balance herself. She didn’t flinch as he shouted in her face, falling silent then.

She knew the explanation that she would give to the other male might not be enough to calm him mind, to calm the torment that he constantly was feeling due to his unfortunate childhood. She wished she could take away his pain. He didn’t deserve to be suffering nearly as much as he was. She stayed sitting back on her heels, eyes somewhat wide as she gazed at him. The concern was still present in them though. It was something that would not be going away, not until she knew he might be alright. “No, I do not believe you to be a fool.” She spoke gently. It was obvious by the pause she took that she was considering the best way to say what was next. “Emory, you do deserve this. You deserve all of the love you have been withheld from your childhood. Just because you had terrible things happen to you back then doesn’t meant you aren’t deserving of it.” She reassured, her voice growing a bit firmer. “Do you remember the day you left for Freycrest, when we went into town? You told me what you had done then. I didn’t run then and it didn’t lessen the love I feel for you. The rumors that I have heard about you hasn’t lessened the love that I feel for you. Nothing will ever damper what I feel for you.” It was truly the strongest she had spoken to him. It wasn’t hard to tell that she meant each word she spoke.

“Viola could’ve run after what you did all those years ago. She had every right to. Yet she stayed because she loves you as well. She has known you for much longer than I have and I know she truly cares about you. Even the people in town do! They might fear you, but I know they would be heartbroken if something were to happen to you.” She exclaimed, unable to hold herself back from doing so. She slowly shifted closer to him. She didn’t reach out to touch him again though, knowing it might not be wise to do so. “What had happened to you and what you have done doesn’t make you any less worthy of proper love. I know you might never believe me when I say such a thing, but I mean it. I will never stop loving you Emory. If it takes the remainder of my life to prove to you that I care for you and that you are worthy of so much more than you believe you are, I will spend every waking moment assuring you of it.” She had no other idea as to how she might be able to help him realize such a thing then. She lifted her hand and held it towards him, offering it for him to take if he pleased. “You must believe me Emory. Please.” Her voice grew a bit quieter then.
 
Emory's tortured expression had slowly began to unwind as Rose began to speak again after the rather abrupt way he'd squirmed away from her. If he was in his right mind, he would have apologized, would have reached out and helped her back to her feet. Without a doubt, he would feel overwhelming guilt and shame later over his rash actions, but for now he was finally fixated on Rose, his eyes never leaving her as her voice grew more firm. The conviction, the unwavering way she kept looking at him despite the agitation it caused in his mind... it was enough to finally cause him to be silent, weighing her words with unmasked suspicion. This all could be a cruel lie at his expense, but then again he knew deep down that at least she was right regarding Viola. Though, he had cast a wary glance toward the maid still lingering behind Rose, her brown eyes still tinged with her fear, but there was concern, a deep rooted concern that he couldn't understand. Why bother go to such lengths for his sake?

But, Rose had given him the answer, the obvious one that he didn't feel like he should accept. Both of them, as foolish and reckless as it was were still trying to reach out to him. Even in this haze, this overwhelming fog on his mind, he couldn't deny that. Conflict raged in his eyes as he stared at Rose's outstretched hand, her words pulling at his heart. Who was he to deny her efforts? He couldn't control other people, could not predict their actions with accuracy, especially concerning Rose. By all accounts, Rose should have ran from him as fast as she could, abandon him in his darkness to drown, to protect herself... and yet here she was, still standing before him and reaching out to him. If only he'd met her sooner, if only their paths had crossed prior to when his life took a severe downward spiral... perhaps he wouldn't be hesitating now to take her hand. "...I don't... understand you at all.." A familiar sentence, interrupted only by his unsteady breathing. Not once did the man understand a single thing that Rose did, she perplexed him, made him so confused over her actions that he couldn't predict. And here she was, surprising him again by reaching out to him when the action on its own was foolish.

Did he dare believe her? Did he dare put faith in her words? That was his next hurdle he was struggling against. The last time he'd trusted someone who acted kind, his life had turned into a living hell. But, Rose did nothing to hurt him, only did things to protect or help him on his behalf. Never had she sought to harm him so far, never had she spoken unkind words to him, and the more he mulled over the more recent, happy memories he had with her, the more it seemed as if the man was beginning to calm. His brief bout of hysteria, although still not completely free from the grasps of the fractured pieces of his mind had subsided if only for a moment as he hesitantly reached out, his bloodied hand grasping her own. His touch alone was trembling, fearful; this being reflected in his eyes as well. Yet he was putting some sort of faith in her, a single hesitant step toward her in the midst of his madness. Undoubtedly, he would regret his actions in the morning when he'd fully calmed, perhaps would try to pretend that this never happened, that they didn't see him crumble, but that was simply the way he was.

"..Emory." His name was called again, prompting his eyes to shift to Viola who had glanced aside, unable to fully meet his gaze just yet, her eyes turning to the dining room, "How about we sit down?" It was a suggestion to probably try and ease Emory to relax a little before they could continue talking, now that he at least seemed to be calming down slowly but surely. It perhaps would be certainly far better than standing so close to the entryway into the mansion, where Emory could at any moment choose to flee and perhaps retreat back to his ever familiar Black Market. Reducing the chance of him doing so would be best before they could continue to speak, and besides they obviously needed to talk with how agitated Emory seemed to be regarding his past that he'd still had yet to fully divulge as well as Rose. A calm setting would probably help for now, even if the mood would perhaps no doubt dip severely again once discussions were to be held.
 
Some nerves had bundled in Rose’s stomach as she assisted his response to what she had to say. It wasn’t the first time that she had reassured him that she loved him and that she had no plans to go anywhere. This was, however, the first time that she had truly spoken on Viola’s behalf about it. She mentioned it in passing before, but as time went on she could truly see just how much the maid cared for Emory. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have taken the time to scold him for not opening up to her about his struggles sooner. She wanted to glance towards Viola, to see her reaction to this all but she knew it would be best to stay focused on Emory for the time being. Her eyes carefully studied his face, trying to find a hint of what his reaction to her words might be. All she could find was hesitation, a wariness that made her feel as though he was about to deny everything she just spoke to him. Her shoulders began to relax once he finally opened his mouth to respond, his voice much calmer than it had been before.

At the familiar words that he spoke, a gentle smile finally broke its way onto her lips. It brought a brightness to her expression that she had been missing the entire day. With all that had happened that morning, it was a wonderful thing to see. It only grew as she thought about it more. “You have said that to me far more than I can count. I suppose it is a good thing you cannot figure me out.” It was a light jest, her own attempt to get him to relax more. She could see the wariness in everything he was currently during. It seemed like he was hesitating on trusting either of them to help him, even though he was in desperate need of their help. She knew better than to push him on that matter. If anything, Viola would be the one who could break past his shell far quicker than she could. “If you are to understand one thing about me, just let it be that I mean every word I say especially with it comes to you. I do love you Emory and I have no intention of ever leaving you.” She repeated, hoping desperately that it might sink in more then.

She watched as he slowly began to calm down, relief flooding her. It seemed as whatever she had done was finally beginning to work. It wasn’t to the extent that she hoped, but it was better than nothing. Her eyes widened slightly as he reached out and grasped her hand. She could feel the trembling of his grip, causing her to lean down and place a gentle kiss to the back on it. The taste of iron was immediate as she pulled away, but she did her best to ignore it. Her own discomfort wasn’t important then. She had to focus solely on helping Emory. She brought her other hand up, carefully holding his hand between her own two then. She gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Her attention was only pulled away when Viola spoke. She turned her head to finally look towards the maid standing behind them. She nodded in agreement with her words. She allowed for one of her hands to drop, though she still held onto his hand with the other. She carefully managed to get herself standing. Her legs ached from the position she had been in, but she didn’t allow it to show. She just carefully helped Emory up then.
 
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The tremors that had been going through the young lord's hands would not cease anytime soon, even as he was slowly beginning to calm, the hesitation in his movements were more so obvious than before. Rose's gentle touch was still grounding him, at least for now, as well as the soft press of her lips against his bloodied hand. As much as he would perhaps protest against the action, not desiring to touch her with his filthy hands, at this point the man wasn't thinking clearly, nor would he have much care in his actions for the moment. Emory's golden eyes turned to look between Viola and Rose, keeping them within his sight as he slowly stood, though in doing so he did observe that Viola; as quiet as the maid had been seemed to back up a bit further, granted in the direction of the dining room. A reaction based on caution perhaps? The sight made a bitter taste settle upon his tongue, and a tightening in his expression. He couldn't say he would be too surprised that she was on edge, that was something that he was used to. Rose, however...

His cautious eyes turned to look at her then, not detecting the same wariness that Viola was displaying. It unnerved him, even in his fragile state he still couldn't wrap his mind around her actions in particular. Even with her reassurances that both she and Viola loved and cared for him deeply; he could not bring himself to fully accept that. Regardless, as his mind was sinking in the midst of chaotic thoughts, the man had slowly and very much reluctantly made his way to the dining room, and only once he was within had he released Rose's hand from his own, the loss of her warmth making his own hand feel suddenly very cold. Nervousness perhaps was the reason for his reaction as the man had seated himself in his usual chair, his eyes downcast, being far more interested in burning a hole through the table than bothering to look at either of the two women who was now with him. He heard the chair across from him being pulled back, and knew enough that Viola had taken the spot, and in doing so the man's hands had clenched together in front of him tightly.

The silence in the room felt heavy, only interrupted by the sound of Emory's uneven breathing, of which was slowly beginning to fall into a normal rhythm. Eventually, the silence would break with Viola's voice, now hesitant and gentle, a tone that he'd heard before when the woman was concerned, "Emory, can you... can you please tell me, what had happened to you?" Ah, there it was. The question that he dreaded more than anything else, even when he'd revealed a condensed version of his shameful past to Rose, now he would have to tell it in full. Or, he could just flee now? The man's eyes shifted toward the entrance to the dining room, his jaw clenching tightly as his nails dug into his skin. As much as that was an appealing option... that would only make matters worse. Viola would always be wanting an answer, and to flee now when they already had him in a position where fleeing would just only shine light on his own cowardice... no, he had to answer as much as he didn't want to remember.

"Emory?" Viola's concerned voice repeated, the sound of his name on her tongue was strange. He could now feel the heaviness of her brown eyes upon him, kind and patient, but growing more and more worried the longer his silence would be prolonged. Eventually, the man had closed his eyes, his tense shoulders sagging in defeat as he allowed his fragile mind to once more remember the pain, allowing it to come back to the forefront of his mind. The memories made him desire to vomit, the nausea being almost overwhelming as he forced himself to hold onto some sort of composure, though it was clear he was feeling unwell. The suddenly paleness to his skin was enough, and the tension in his jaw that had yet to be released, and yet... he finally spoke.

"...I was... born in the Black Market, my mother Maridel Yates was... owned by Lawrence Barker, though she was also his lover." Common knowledge, or at least the knowledge of his mother, though he didn't disclose where he'd been born before, at least to Viola that is. "Maridel was a prostitute, she valued money and pleasure more so than anything else. I wasn't apart of her plans, in fact I perhaps had... complicated them." The memory of his mother's scornful gaze once more sunk deep into Emory as his golden eyes seemed distant, as if reliving the past anew. "She always had wanted a glamorous life without struggle, so meeting Lord May prior to my birth had been perfect, and it would have continue to do so if I hadn't..." He trailed off, clearing his throat and forcing himself to continue. Blaming himself over something that was out of his control, especially with how careless Maridel lived was absurd. Yet, the part of him, the vulnerable part that new no common sense still blamed himself. His birth alone had ruined whatever prospects that Maridel had, and even if he resented the woman enough to slaughter her; he nonetheless still desired her acceptance, her love. She had been his mother after all, but she never acted like a mother to him.

"Considering I had been labeled as problematic for business, she would lock me in a box, placed outside of the Pleasure Ward. If I made noise or drew attention to myself, I would be punished... but since I was a child, I didn't know any better but to try and call out for help. Beatings were... frequent and meals at least for myself were skipped. If I was lucky enough to be fed, it would be cold leftovers or whatever food that was left on the floor, though that was... moldy." A bitter taste on his tongue resurfaced, "But, when I had turned seven.. she-" He took in a breath, a surge of terror beginning to flow in his chest, flowing though his body and causing his body to shiver, sweat beginning to bead his forehead as he could almost feel the vile woman's presence close to him again. "..Eunice, had discovered me in the box and acted kind. She gave me warm food and had went off to talk with my mother, promising me that she would return. Though, little did I know my mother had latched onto the idea of selling me off-"

Viola's body stiffened, the woman's expression becoming tense as she spoke, "S-she didn't..!" Emory's golden eyes, bleak and pale had shifted to look at Viola's horrified expression, one that wasn't fearful toward Emory, but one that shown absolute horror that a mother could even think of doing such a thing. A bitter expression crossed Emory's face as a dry, unamused laugh left his lips, "I did say she desired a life of luxury, did I not? What else could she have done? As it stood I was just a burden, an extra mouth to feed that she never needed." He lowered his gaze back to the table then, "..So I became a prostitute just like her, to fuel her nights of pleasure.. I had to.. to.." Another wave of nausea gripped him, feeling bile beginning to rise in the back of his throat, though he forced himself to not allow it to rise any further, "...Days and nights I had to allow myself to be ripped apart by Eunice's... "friends". If I grew too tired, I was drugged to keep going, if I did something undesirable, I would be withheld food and forced drugs... till the point I didn't know who I was, where I was... I just wanted all of it to stop.." Memories of blurred faces surged to the surface, laughter at his expense, the disgusting smell and the perfume that was heavily used to attempt to disguise it. It all felt as if he was reliving it, and it made him sick.

"..Men... women... it didn't matter who came to me, no matter how many times I felt ill, no matter how many times I was forced to appease their sick desires.. no one would help me.." Tears began to sting at his eyes, his voice straining and cracking, struggling to hold onto his composure. Although Emory could not describe in detail the actions he'd done, considering the Black Market and the sheer extent of his scars and old injuries, physical abuse for the pleasure of others was something that wouldn't be unheard of. After all, Lawrence Barker's establishment was one where any activities no matter how depraved was allowed, as long as the unfortunate soul in question did not die. Admitting as much as he had was certainly a lot for a man who had tried to keep his past buried, and to never speak of it again... or was hoping to never speak of it. His breathing was becoming uneven once more, struggling not to break down as memories swarmed his mind, whether it was the disgusting feeling of saliva on his skin, the harsh sound of pleasured breathing rattling in his ears, or the agony that came from the injuries that now lined his skin, and the phantom sound of laughter at his expense... he wasn't doing so well.

The sight of Emory in his current state had caused Viola to immediately begin to panic. She'd never seen the man unravel in such a way, the hollowed look in his eyes and the broken sounds of his breathing was enough for Viola to immediately try to reach out, "Emory, you don't have to-" An immediate pain flared across her hand causing her to shrink back in shock as her hand had been slapped away, Emory's expression contorting in a cornered look, "Don't touch me!" The panicked snap of his tone made Viola's eyes grow wide, silenced into shock as she held her stinging hand close to herself, shrinking back underneath the rage that had sparked in Emory's unfocused eyes. Her own fear had caused her to be unable to speak a word in response.
 
Rose could feel the trembling of Emory’s hands as she pressed her lips to his hands. Despite the dried blood and dirt upon them, she want to do her best to reassure him that everything would be alright. She hadn’t seen him in such a state as this before. While he had his moments before, he seemed to be far more of a shell of himself than he ever had been before. It worried her more than she could say, especially since he didn’t speak about the cause of it. She truly hoped that they might be able to finally have a conversation that had been getting pushed off for quite a long time. She kept her gaze focused on him even as she pulled away and stood up. She refused to allow any of what had been bothering her earlier to reappear on her expression. Emory was her sole focus in that moment. Her hands slowly returned to her side, eyes gleaming with the concern she felt for him.

She didn’t allow herself to move until Emory began to make his way towards the dining hall. Her steps were slow as she followed after him, glancing down to her own feet then. The blood that had been on Emory from his activities that night completely ruined the nightgown she was wearing, though it wasn’t as if she minded too much. She knew that she could easily get herself another one. She paused in the doorway as she waited to see where both Viola and Emory would sit. Viola chose the seat that she normally sat in while she dined with Emory, causing for her to decided on a seat next to the young lord. She made sure that he had enough space, scooting the chair back from his side. She shifted in it once she sat in order to look towards him once again. She couldn’t find it in herself to relax like she normally would’ve. Her concern for the other male was becoming more and more evident the longer that she spent around him.

Her hands shifted to rest in her lap, fingers curling together while her thumb traced gentle patterns on one of her knuckles. It was one of the only things that she could to to keep herself from asking him what’s ruins in that moment. She wanted for him to speak on his own terms, to find it within himself to trust the two of them. She believed that they had given him every reason to trust them, to understand that they would never do any harm to him. She hadn’t expected the words that left his lips the moment that he opened his mouth. She heard bits and pieces of his past before, but the full details of it were enough to make her chest tighten. Her eyes widened slightly, eyebrows pinching together as she gazed at the man beside her. She assumed that Viola’s reaction was the same as her own, especially due to the shocked words she let spill from her mouth. She couldn’t move her eyes from Emory in that moment to tell.

It was truly all her fault that he had resulted to what he had done that evening. Everything that occurred that morning made far more sense than it had before and the guilt was quick to hit her. Despite everything that she had experienced before, her own trauma that had been resurfaced, it was nothing compared to what Emory had gone through. She almost couldn’t believe that he was still functioning as well as he was. The actions of his mother were despicable, inexcusable. It caused a flare of anger to rise with the guilt. She knew that if Emory hadn’t killed the woman himself, she might’ve worked to convince her father to do such a thing once she was revealed at the hall. She bit down on her bottom lip for a few moments as she tried to formulate a sentence in response to what had been said. She knew that there was truly nothing she could say to make it better, to ease any of the pain he had been going through. A gentle breath escaped her and her mouth parted as she began to speak.

“I am so sorry Emory.” The apology was worthless, that much she already knew. She reached her own hand out to gently rest upon his arm, though she paused as the young lord struck Viola’s hand. Her fingers were shaking slightly in her hesitation. “You didn’t deserve to go through any of what you had. I know my words will never be a proper comfort to what you have experienced. I know nothing will ever soothe your mind. But I am grateful that you spoke with us about it. You are not alone in this.” Her tone was reassuring. Against her better judgement, she allowed herself to place her hand gently on his arm. She didn’t keep a grip on it at all, just to slightest of touches to try and pull him from everything his mind was forcing him to experience. “I am sorry for having pushed you in the way I did. If I knew, I would’ve never done such a thing.” Her words were in reference to the passionate night the two shared. At the time, he seemed to be enjoying every moment but perhaps it had only caused more harm than good.

“You are not alone anymore. I know you have been forced to be by yourself all these years, to do things on your own. You have both Viola and myself now. I have no intention of leaving your side.” She confessed, emotion beginning to swell in her voice. She truly hated the fact that she couldn’t come up with the right words to make this better for him. It bothered her in more ways that she could say. “You do not have to say anything else right now if you don’t want to. I understand and I am sure Viola does as well. Speak to us as you please. Neither of us will push for you to continue to if you do not wish to.” She promised. She glanced towards the maid across the table from them, hoping that Viola would agree with her in that moment.
 
Emory's unfocused gaze seemed to regain some sort of sanity as he fixated on Viola's fearful face. His lips parted in the beginnings of a sentence, but this was silenced as Rose's shaky touch would soon rest on his arm. Hesitation. He knew that well enough, but could he blame her for being hesitant after he'd just lashed out like he had? Her soft voice however seemed to have reached him, prompting the man's coiled muscles to relax, his expression pinching with discomfort as he lowered his gaze to the table. Rose's words in regards to her blaming herself had caused Emory to immediately turn to face her, the golden depths of his gaze immediately showing alarm. How could she blame himself for his own weak mind?

"No. Don't." His trembling voice had gained a sharp edge. He lowered his gaze to her hand resting on his arm, saying in a tense voice, "...If anything, just... don't use.. lavender.. it smelled like.. her. Eunice." That was the only thing he could remember clear enough that could have probably made these horrid memories resurface. Eunice always smelled sickeningly like lavender, a pleasant smell but a smell that was enough to cause a fear response in Emory. He avoided lavender scents like the plague, and had tried to disguise his discomfort with the faint scent he'd caught on Rose... but that was a mistake. He perhaps should have brought that to light sooner, maybe he wouldn't be stuck in this situation now.

Silence settled after Emory had spoken, though Viola too had spoken up hesitantly after Rose's assurance that he didn't need to speak more if he didn't want to, "Yes, Emory. You don't need to continue if it's too painful to remember. Don't force yourself.." Her words were quivering with residual fear, but more strongly than that was guilt. It made Emory's expression twist with displeasure as his free hand had settled to nervously tapping on the table, a cloudiness coming over his eyes as he murmured, "No. It's better if both of you know everything now." After all, the Black Market was only a fraction of his life, even though it felt to him like an eternity.

"...When I was ten," He began after a long pause, his jaw clenching as he recounted the final day in the Black Market, "Eunice had brought one of her more influential "friends" with her; Duke Valentine Caxaton.." The Caxaton family wasn't as renown as the Gallovans but was a close supporter of the Gallovan family and by extention; the royal crown. Duke Valentine in particular was usually a well mannered and kind man, beloved by most who came in contact with him. Though, the Caxaton family often produced not only knights but the holy order of the kingdom's few paladins who practiced the common faith that the kingdom supported. Though Emory knew not what the Duke was up to now, due to him not wanting to come into contact or even see any of his many previous abusers. The thought alone was enough to make him sick, and knowing full well that they would without a doubt show up to the fast approaching ball was enough to make his stomach turn; though prior to this he would have simply hidden most of the time.

"At that point; I had been restrained due to my body being unable to stop shivering, though it was no matter to them. As long as I could still be used, and as long as I still breathed, I was still as viable as any other prostitute." He sucked in a breath and exhaled, "Though I don't recall clearly, but his touch was enough to make me finally snap. There was... a broken vase in the corner, that he was stupid enough to drag me near it when he was nearly done. So, I had taken a piece and stabbed him... in his eye." A bitter, trembling smile crossed his face as he whispered, "Though, from that action I was immediately punished. Lawrence called me a liability to have around, and demanded that I leave... though not after I was beaten for my misconduct. But, I remember I was so relieved.. I was finally, finally free." His smile dropped, "...But I was a fool."

Slowly, Emory had recounted the days when he was facing mistreatment by his older half-siblings; that progressively grew worse the more the former Lord May grew resentment toward Maridel and her unfaithfulness. It ranged from initial isolation to eventually physical punching or hitting, and eventually resulted in Emory withdrawing fully from the family, abandoning his place at the dinner table and retreating to the safety of his room to eat there... but even then he would have to snatch and scavenge for scraps from the kitchen as the other servants attitude toward him had soured as well. After all, he was an illegitimate child, he acted strange and always seemed to flee at the slightest sign that someone would touch him. So he eventually faded into the background, receiving only an icy reception from those around him.

"Camdyn and Annice hated me, thinking I was a threat to their... 'bond' with our mother and their father. I was never welcomed, and Maridel encouraged it. After all I wasn't wanted here; and she made it abundantly clear. And even the former lord was disgusted with my presence... he knew enough where I came from, and he wanted no part in my upbringing. After all; who would want a son that had been tainted and ruined? A boy who couldn't even read or write, who struggled with just talking or approaching others? And I was a constant reminder of Maridel and her lifestyle that he thought he's saved her from." His eyes stung slightly, though he forced his composure to remain.

"He also didn't hesitate to lash out at me, whenever I was to learn swordplay, he would not hold back. He always excused it as frustration with my lack of talent compared to Camdyn; but I knew it was an excuse to vent his anger." The bitterness surged within him once more, "...With my mother sapping the estate dry of its funding, and my father and siblings using me as a punching bag... I found this place disgusting. Yes, I was no longer raped but I just exchanged that for more resentment to be thrown toward me. Camdyn wasn't a proper fit to inherit it, as I'm sure anyone who knew him well could tell that he was using the former lord's reputation to live an easy life. The only thing he excelled at was swordplay, and nothing else. Annice was a fool and only blindly followed whatever anyone told her, so should I have let this place fall to their hands?"

He took in a breath and exhaled, realizing his tone had been becoming more frenzied and angered, "...So I did what I could to survive, to ensure my own future at the expense of theirs. When Camdyn's celebration came for the completion of his initial training toward knighthood... I had done what I had to in order to make sure I will live. Not them." Slowly, the man recounted the horrors of that bloody day, how he hunted the many confused and terrified guests down one by one, how he had blocked the exit ways and any possibility of escape. He even recounted his siblings demise, how his sister cowered in a corner, and his fool of a brother had lost his footing on the top of the stairs in a violent fight for his life where unfortunately he met his end when he hit the bottom of the stairway. The former Lord May's demise wasn't as bloody as he had felt pity toward the man who had reached the end of his sanity by the time the horrible event had happened, so Emory had made sure his death was painless. Though for his mother... her end wasn't as pleasant; reserving nothing but the gruesome stabbing of her body until she was unrecognizable. These memories flowed past his lips in a torrent, the memories fresh as if it happened just only hours ago.

"...But," He took a breath, his expression empty as a tear had managed to slip its way free, "...It brought me no joy. I felt... empty." Hollow and empty, that was what he had been left with, a void that had been left unfilled and unattended. Yes, he had completed his goals of making sure he would survive... but at what cost? Him becoming a monster in return? It shouldn't bother him, not after he had just slaughtered just hours before, but perhaps it was only because of Rose that he felt such a way. And he could see the haunted expression in Viola's eyes as the maid had now found herself unable to look directly at the man in front of her, her lips drawn in a tense line as he could tell she remembered the horrid day as well, just as vividly as he. Where it was liberation for Emory, it was a waking nightmare for her.
 
Emory’s request of her was simple enough, one that Rose made as a mental note. She wouldn’t ever want to bring back the painful memories that he had to deal with and the guilt that was flooding her chest from the night before was hard enough for her to handle. Despite his assurance to not blame herself, she couldn’t help but feel as though she had been the trigger in that situation. Even as his gaze pierced her, she couldn’t shake it. She just nodded her head slightly, her hand staying where it was on his arm. “I swear I won’t.” She assured in a quiet voice. Her tone wasn’t one that held fear or worry this time. Instead, it was one that held understanding. It had a gentleness to it that she had spoken with the last time he mentioned memories such as this. Her own actions seemed enough to help bring him from what all he was experiencing, if only for a few moments. That was enough for her. She only ever wished to bring him peace. He lacked it for many years.

Though she didn’t know what she had expected to hear when Emory insisted on telling them both everything in that moment, she knew most certainly it wasn’t what he did say. She forced herself to not allow her lips to part in the shock that immediately overcame her. It pushed away the residual guilt that had been lingering in her chest. Emory had gone through far more than anyone should’ve, especially a little boy. It was cruel and inhumane. That rage sparked in her once more. She had recalled many times seeing Duke Caxton and his family. She remembered begging someone to tell her just what happened to the man’s eyes, always having been fascinated with the patch he wore over it. Now that she knew what he had done to deserve it, the thought made her sick. It made her want to find a sword and go kill the man herself.

Her hand hadn’t moved from the position it had been on his arm, though it was resting more on it then. She hadn’t been able to focus on keeping the grip light. Her mind was only repeating the details of what she had just heard. The imagery was vivid enough for her to picture. The manner in which he described the killing in the estate, how he had done it, caused a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had walked the halls far too many time for her to count. While she knew that there had been deaths here, she hadn’t realized just how often she passed the places that so many died. She took in a gentle breath before finally breaking the silence. “You do know that none of what happened to you, none of what you experienced during your younger years, was your fault right?” It was the only thing that she could allow herself to say initially. Her mind had shifted to race through everything that she could say to possibly ease any residual pain that had come forth with his confession.

“Revenge never brings any man joy. My father used to always tell that to my sisters and I after our mother passed. He wanted us to understand that for whenever one of us were to sit upon the throne.” She added after a moment, bringing her eyes to look to him. She knew that she needed to tread lightly in that moment. She glanced to the side, seeing the way in which Viola couldn’t look to him. She couldn’t imagine how terrible it must’ve been to see so many people that one knew, that one loved slaughtered on the ground. She was surprised the blood stains had been able to be removed from the tiles and the walls. “He also used to say that one’s past actions didn’t shape who one was today. While you might be the man that many fear, it does not mean you always have to be that way. You have changed so much since I have arrived Emory, truly. I don’t know if you will ever experience the true happiness you deserve, but I am glad that I am able to bring some of it out in you.” She confessed. She was recognizing that she was falling into her familiar habit of rambling, though she couldn’t stop it then.

“You were deprived of everything that someone should have. You weren’t allowed safety, freedom, joy, love. You only did what you had because of that. But you do not need to continue on that path anymore. I hope that you can recognize that your pain and your trauma are not the defining factor in your life. There is so much more than just that.” Her words were a bit breathless due to the speed in which she spoke them. She couldn’t help herself any in that moment. Her eyes shifted away from Emory to look back to Viola for a few moments. She didn’t want to diminish what the maid had experienced either and she hoped that she realized just what she was attempting to do in that moment. The task of calming Emory, of assuring him, wasn’t the easiest. She had pushed aside every ounce of what she had been feeling before the day in order to focus on him in that moment. Her expression still held sympathy, something she couldn’t erase.
 
He could feel the gentle pressure on his arm begin to increase, Rose's grip becoming slowly heavier. Feelings of uneasiness flowed through the man's arm at the pressure, but considering it was Rose... he would not react on the instinct to rip his arm away from her grasp; instead the man's eyes shifted uneasily toward the woman at his side, the gentleness she insisted on approaching him with, and her words of comfort. Yes, of course he knew revenge was never satisfactory, for the man had brought nothing but destruction in his path whenever he would reach his limits. Emory was a dangerous person, though he would not excuse his actions or beg for forgiveness. Perhaps, this violent behavior had flourished when the man had lashed out at Valentine all those years ago, that he could achieve some sort of reprieve if he defended himself first; or if he killed first. But, he knew well enough that despite the hatred that still burned in his heart toward Eunice and her circle of allies... he couldn't bring himself to personally seek them out and slaughter them. Despite his horrid reputation, despite the madness that lurked underneath the surface... he was utterly and completely terrified of each individual.

It had frequented his mind many, many times before to not stop after his family's deaths, now that he had the position of a lord, he could protect himself and make sure that he was secure; that included eliminating those who had wronged him, who had violated him. But the thought of them was enough to make an all consuming fear take over him that he could not bring himself to do it. Perhaps, it was better that he hadn't? The uneasiness between himself and the kingdom was enough, but to allow his past to leak and be known by the public... how much would he be ridiculed then? It wasn't as if he was a stranger to being isolated and ostracized, but considering his mother had been well known to be a prostitute, the nobility wouldn't hesitate to hold that against him; especially if he was serious about pursuing Rose. Even if the actions themselves were forced upon him, the stigma alone would be a permanent stain on his already ruined reputation and being associated with him would probably be even worse. Yes, his abusers would also face consequences, perhaps a death penalty on the severity of their actions... or if they were more influential would be pardoned but stripped of their wealth and livelihood; but the brunt of the information would not favor Emory much. His hands were tied.

Though, as much as these thoughts occupied his mind, Rose's words in regard to how his past actions didn't have to define who he currently was, that he'd changed since Rose had came to him. That was what she claimed, but did he actually change? His eyes shifted to look at his bloodied hands, the blood having long since dried by now, staining his skin. No, he knew well the answer. He'd not changed a single bit, not fully to be able to abandon his previous habits. The rush he felt, a temporary feeling of have some semblance of being able to protect himself, that no one would be able to hurt him if he eliminated the threat first had warped him to not truly care about the lives of others. That if needed, if requested... he would jump at the opportunity if only to keep himself from feeling that temporary rush of satisfaction. It wasn't right, it wasn't... human. His hands clenched tightly, jaw clenching as well in response as he couldn't bring himself to answer her, not yet.

Luckily enough, Viola had now spoken, her voice quiet, "She is right, Emory." The man's eyes finally turned to look at the maid across from him, although there was a slight trembling in her hands as she clasped them together before her, he could not detect any hatred or bitterness; just sadness and worry. "It's never too late to try to change, especially if you still desire to," She dropped her eyes to his clenched hands, her lips pressed in a tight line as her shoulders sagged, "I just wish... I knew sooner about that happened to you, then I could have... done more. I could have tried to reach out more despite being told otherwise-" The maid's lips trembled then, her eyes watering as she could no longer hold back the tears, "Forgive me... f-forgive me.." Emory's expression turned surprised at the woman's plea for forgiveness, although in his mind there was nothing to forgive. She had done no wrongs, compared to the other servants that once frequented the estate, Viola's efforts no matter how small at the time was something that didn't go unnoticed. Yes, she made him uncomfortable in her kindness when he was a boy, but he never felt there had been any malice behind her actions. In fact, he remembered well enough that she always would try to leave some of the better leftovers for him, as she was forbidden to personally treat him with such friendliness as his siblings. But, these small actions added up, enough for Emory to spare her when the time came. And for once, the man didn't regret this decision.

"Viola, enough." His voice was a bit icy, though this was intended. The man had just allowed his past to be revealed in full, as a result he wasn't comfortable at all. Despite the reassurances, despite the kindness, with how private an individual he was, this had pushed him far out of his comfort zone than he would ever like to be. "There is nothing for me to forgive, you did what you could at the time. That was enough." Considering she had assisted him with utmost loyalty for all these years, how could he blame her for her ignorance to his past? She was not at fault, he would not permit her or Rose to feel guilt just because of someone like him. He... didn't deserve their compassion. His words seemed to have at least caused the maid's expression to slightly gentle, but the guilt remained as she bowed her head to him, attempting to force herself not to cry more in his presence, though excusing herself a few moments later to perhaps regain her composure, though he heard her retreat into the kitchen, perhaps to prepare some tea to try and ease everyone's nerves.

Silence settled then, uncomfortable silence as Emory couldn't bring himself to look Rose in the eyes just yet. Her presence alone did little to make him feel at ease, considering that he just allowed such an unsavory side of himself to be revealed to her; and his less than stellar origins... he felt like filth. "...You put too much faith in me, Rose." His voice, previously strained with tense emotion had now settled into an exhausted and empty tone. He was emotionally exhausted from allowing himself to relive all those prior memories, so he did unintentionally come across as a bit frigid. "..It's impossible for me to change now." I'm in far too deep. Far too deep for him to change his course, he was still stuck in the Black Market's clutches, far too dependent on it to ever escape. It was his birthplace after all, and it formed him into who he was currently. Emory's eyes shifted down to look at her hands still resting on his arm, eventually causing the man's free hand to come and gently rest upon her own. Ah, he wanted to enjoy her presence, to freely allow himself to sink in her gentleness. She had shown him nothing but understanding and kindness, and as much as he wanted to cling to it, was desperate for it... he couldn't fully allow himself to accept it.

"You deserve far better than me. I fear that your efforts will be wasted." Admitting this aloud had stung, but it was true enough. Both Viola and Rose's efforts were merely throwing a bit of water on an out of control blaze. Yes, he was still calming down now, evident in the even intervals now of his breathing and the exhaustion he held finally catching up to him, but in the long term... could he actually be changed for the better? He... doubted it. Intensely doubted it.
 
There was nothing more that she could think of to say in that moment, especially as she had no clue how he was truly going to react to it all. Emory seemed to finally be calming down the best one could after what he just revealed. There was a tenseness in her own shoulders that she hadn’t realized was there until they slowly began to fall as the silence set over the table. She had managed to keep her mind calm enough to not tighten her grip any further on his arm. She hadn’t wanted to accidentally dig her nails into his skin, especially as she was sure it would only bring back those terrible memories. She allowed for it to rest normally then, the weight of her hand not much but definitely noticeable. She couldn’t read exactly what he was thinking, not knowing fully where his mind had gone at her own words. She had done her best to speak in a manner that would help him and not agitate him further.

At the mention, she truly believed that he had changed since she arrived and she was pleased to hear Viola felt the same. She turned her gaze to watch the maid as she spoke, her expression pinching in some concern for the way in which her tone shook. She knew immediately that the woman was about to cry and she almost felt like doing the same herself. It took quite a bit of restraint to stop the tears forming on her waterline from falling. His entire childhood had brought a pain to her chest she never felt before and she hadn’t even been the one to experience it. It was a miracle that Emory had come out in the manner he had, even if he had murdered many to get to that point. She watched as the woman stood and excused herself, hurrying away to the kitchen.

His words were expected in that moment. Emory never seemed to understand why she had fallen for him. There were times where she almost questioned it herself, especially as the two were far more opposite one another than sharing similarities that would secure a good bond. She believed that the gods had their ways though, and they were meant to meet in this manner. She couldn’t imagine anything else happening. She truly would forever be grateful to have gotten to know him in the way she did. The corners of her lips began to twitch up and she gave him a reassuring smile. Now that the moment had passed, she was beginning to relax much more. It helped that it was only the two of them in the room at the moment in time. She was sure Viola would be listening in from the kitchen, but the privacy was welcomed.

“I do not think that I do. I think you do not put enough faith in yourself. If you only believed in yourself half the amount that I do, you would recognize just why I believe you are a good person beneath all that has happened to you.” Her words were sincere, much as they always were. Her eyes studied his face for a moment, taking in each feature as she commonly did. She always found the young lord to be quite attractive and, despite his reputation, rumors of his good looks commonly spread throughout the kingdom. She knew many women that wished to see him in passing just to see if the words were true. “If you tell yourself it is too late to change, you won’t ever allow yourself to be open to it. I know you haven’t realized it nor do you think you have, but you are much different than when I first arrived. The man I met then wouldn’t have ever told me what you just did. You would’ve isolated yourself until you felt as though you could regain your composure enough for everyone to see you again.” She pointed out, tone not changing.

“You never would’ve allowed for me to be as close as I am to you now. You most likely would’ve never spoke to me. You must look at your old patterns and recognize the change that has come to you. I know that I do and Viola does as well. Even the people in the village have seen this new side to you.” Her mind immediately drifted back to all that had been spoken during their last trip into town. She could recall yet how surprised many had been at the way Emory had been acting. A soft sigh broke through her lips and she shook her head lightly at him. She had opened her mouth to speak once more when she felt the gentle touch of his hand upon her own. Her expression softened from the concerned look it held before as she gazed at him. “I can ensure you my efforts will not be wasted. I do love you Emory and I know I have spoken those words to you many times before. I mean them each time they pass my lips. Know I would never lie or deceive you in such ways, truly.” She admitted.

She hoped that he would take her reassurances in the way she meant them. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time they discussed these matters. Deciding a change of subject was best, she shifted her chair a bit closer to him. “Would you be willing to try to rest after you bathed or would you like to stay up? I can keep you company if you wish to stay awake.” She offered. She knew she would be rather exhausted herself that following morning if she did, but she would truly do anything for her. Her own tiredness was beginning to creep up on her, though she was fighting it to be there in case Emory needed her.
 
Emory's expression had changed to icy as she had begun to recount how he'd changed, a protest beginning to start upon his lips... only for it to die just as quickly. His gaze shifted once more to his bloodied hand still settled upon her own, an action he certainly would not have taken before. In fact, he probably would have sooner withdrawn as if he had been physically stung, rather than allow himself to get used to her touch. Opening himself up to her was also something that had been previously impossible for one such as he. But, perhaps it was because he had allowed himself to trust her? Yes, that was the only option, but even then he had to admit that was certainly a large change for himself. He had trusted no one, loved no one; and yet Rose had captivated him and kept him only longing for her presence. But, he feared he would only bring horrid things to her.

Her declaration of love for him once more made his heart quicken only for caution to settle within him as he shook his head at her, and despite himself a small but tired smile finally managed to win and cross his lips, "You certainly are quite confident.." A confidence I wish I had. If only he could look at things as positively as she, maybe he would have a healthier mindset? "...I love you too." The words were spoken quietly, but sincere. He truly did love Rose, the opposite of everything he was. A woman that was filled with the joy he could never achieve on his own, someone who was able to drag him from the depths of his misery if only for a little while. But.. it terrified him that he might scare her away. The thought still hung in the back as his mind as his calloused hand had gently intertwined his fingers with hers, a somberness coming across his expression as he was lost in thought.

His attention once more was grabbed as she shifted closer to him, causing the man's golden eyes to immediately settle upon Rose once more, though his expression had tensed as he now had fully taken in her bloodied nightgown causing a feeling of unease to overwhelm him. He had done enough damage that night. Emory shook his head immediately at her, pulling both his hand and arm away as he almost seemed to be withdrawing once more, a tension in his body had returned as he responded, "No." The initial response was a bit too sharp which made Emory hesitate before he added, "I think I've done enough for tonight. Please, go get some rest."

He didn't want her to be around him, not because he didn't desire her presence, but he didn't want her to have to deal with him for the rest of the night. He knew well enough he would not sleep, at least not easily tonight. But, he didn't want Rose to be witnessing his worse possible moments, after all she had seen him disgrace himself already that night, no need for her to see him crumble further.
 
His words brought a genuine smile to her lips, one that he always seemed to bring out in her. She smiled often around many people, but he seemed to being out something completely different in her. She hadn’t a clue just what changed about it, but she did know that the happiness she felt around him was unlike anything else she felt before. “Confidence is something I pride myself in. I was the youngest out of all of my sisters after all. I had to be heard in some way.” She reminded. She could recall her surprise when she learned just how beloved she had been by the kingdom. Her sisters had always been pushed into the limelight far more than herself. She guessed it had only increased her confidence over time. Her head tilted slightly as he repeated those three words to her, expression and smile softening more. “I will always be here for you Emory, truthfully. There is nothing you could do or say for me to change my mind.” She confessed. She had told him that in different variations before and would continue to say it as much as she needed to for him to believe her.

Her gaze shifted to watch him as he pulled away from her. Part of her was upset over his sudden movements, but the other part was completely understanding. She had been worried originally that he would’ve pulled back from her fully the moment she placed her hand on his arm. She was just grateful that he allowed for her to give him that reassurance for as long as she possibly could. She slowly pushed herself into a standing position, not moving from his side for a few moments. “Alright. If you need anything at all Emory, please wake me. I would rather be there with you and be a bit tired tomorrow rather than you suffer alone.” Her words were gentle. She hadn’t reacted to the coldness of his words, a tone she had grown used to over time. She turned her head to look towards the kitchen. Viola still hadn’t emerged and she doubted the woman would for a bit of time.

She slowly looked back to Emory and offered him one last smile. “I will see you in the morning. Goodnight Emory.” She would’ve reached out to grab while off his hand if she believed he wouldn’t react negatively to her, but she didn’t want to push it more than she already had. She slowly began to move away from him and made her way back towards the stairs. Her steps were a bit slower as she walked now. The moonlight was streaming in through the large windows that lined the corridor. She did her best to ignore the thoughts that were beginning to come to her mind about the places Emory had described in regards to his slaughter in the mansion. She blinked a few times, not realizing she had paused at the base of the staircase. She quickly made her way up them, suddenly every aware of the blood that was on her nightgown. She hadn’t a clue as to who it belonged to, but she wanted to get out of it.

It didn’t take her long to arrive back at her room. She shut the door quietly behind herself. Her steps took her towards the washroom where she drew a bath for herself. The moonlight was enough to guide her steps and she preferred the darkness over what the candlelight could bring her. She pulled the nightgown off once the bath was full. She carefully climbed into it, the warm water soothing the remaining tenseness she felt in that moment. She closed her eyes for a few minutes. It took everything in her to not doze off in the bathtub. She forced her eyes open and grabbed a cloth. She washed her skin quickly before standing and drying herself off. She made her way to her wardrobe and then pulled out a different nightgown. She pulled it over her head and slowly made her way towards her bed. Her exhaustion hit her fully in that moment. She hadn’t realized just how tired the day before and the recent events of the night had made her. She collapsed under the blankets and quickly fell asleep.
 
Rose's words made the tiny smile on his face return, slightly wider although it was quick to fade as she had stepped away. Her departing words had only received the slightest of nods from the man as she had retreated from his sight, although he could hear her quiet steps moving toward the staircase, only to pause. That made his heart sink in his chest, further punctuated by the quick and quiet steps that followed as she seemed to hastily make her way up the stairway, causing the man's shoulders to sag as he released a sigh, looking down at his bloodied hands once more. A scowl was quick to follow, disgust coiling and rising in his chest as his fingers clenched into a tight fist. Disgusting. Self-loathing seeped from the man as he remained seated for a few moments, hearing Viola still in the kitchen... he didn't want to face her sympathy or hesitant reactions to him.

Standing abruptly from his chair, the man's heavy steps echoed through the halls as he would make his way slowly upward toward the bathroom, firmly locking the door behind him as he sagged against the door, staring at the broken mirror he had yet to replace for a few seconds only for him to force himself to undress. Undressing was... difficult. Primarily due to the blood that made the layers of clothes stick to his skin, and the memories that were raging out of control, it took longer than he would like to be able to do a simple thing such as taking off his clothes. Drawing water for his bath took slightly less time, and yet the bath itself was hastily done. Hasty and harsh scrubbing at his skin would follow, punctuated by his ragged breaths as he tried to keep himself from sinking too deep into the depths of his mind. He felt filthy, no matter how much he tried to make sure he was clean, it didn't seem to make him feel any better.

This left him bleeding, although from minor cuts upon his flesh; from the accidental scrape of fingernails against his own skin and being reddened from irritation. His golden eyes appeared hollowed, frazzled as he struggled to breathe, staring at the red tinged water surrounding him. Emory knew not how long he sat, hunched over in the warmth of the bathwater... but it was long enough till the water itself turned cold. It was only then that the man found the strength to move, terror no longer binding his body and the sting of soapy water upon the tiny rips in his flesh though a fault of his own was enough to drag him to reality.

Retreating to the confines of his own room, the man rummaged about for a fresh pair of clothes, though it was merely robotic movements; as if he had no agency of his own which eventually he would sit upon his bed, golden eyes dull as he stared ahead at nothingness, his breathing uneven as his eyes eventually shifted to the vial again. He needed it. As much as he didn't want to rely on it anymore, the clear liquid - as little of it remained - was calling to him.

Emory leaned over, grabbing the vial and tilting it to his lips. The bitter liquid was familiar, but it was in its own way a habit, a comfort that would force his mind to become still and unable to think, unable to remember. However, considering how little remained, it would not be enough to hold the full terror of his past at bay. Despite this, Emory would eventually fall asleep, the diminished effect of the medicine beginning to take its hold to drag him deep underneath his own terror.
...​
By the time morning had come, Emory couldn't say he had a good night's rest. The man's eyes were quick to open as soon as the first rays of the morning sun peaked through his window, prompting him to immediately surge out of his bed, his hands clutching tightly to the sheets beneath him as sweat was covering his body, his breathing panicked until he realized... he was in the safety of his own room. Struggling to his feet, Emory slowly and hesitantly left his room, his steps surprisingly almost quieter than the usual heavy steps, his golden eyes hollowed and anxious as he gazed out from the safety of his room. He... didn't want to leave. Swallowing back a surge of anxiety, Emory had hesitantly walked down the stairway as the smell of food was finally enough to coax him to go. It seemed as if Viola had arrived earlier.

(Ending of post is a bit rushed; tried to fit it in to my breaks x.x)
 
you are completely fine!! c: ))

The sleep that greeted Rose that evening was not nearly as calm as she would’ve preferred for it to be. She assumed it was due to the stories that Emory had recounted from his earlier years and her own memories resurfacing earlier that day. She found herself tossing and turning beneath the sheets, unable to find a position that was comfortable enough to stay still in. She could recall spending hours shifting beneath her blankets before she did manage to fall into a light sleep. Her dreams were odd and sporadic, almost as though it were fragments out of order playing in her mind. She recognized certain faces that greeted her in her dreams yet none of the voices seemed to match anyone she knew. It was alarming to her even in her unconscious state. She heard voices speaking to her without anyone’s lips moving. Every time she tried to take a step back or to excuse herself, her feet were firmly planted in the ground. She had shifted her gaze downward, hoping to find the cause of what was keeping her there.

She truly did find the cause, but it only caused for more confusion to overcome her. There were hands coming from the floor. They originally blended with the wooden floors that were surrounding her, but the larger they got the more human-like they were. Long nails came from each nail bed, dirt evident underneath them. She couldn’t recognize any skin on the hands either. While they resembled them, each with five fingers and mobility, the skin was covered in blood. It was coming from each pore on the hands, enough to begin to cover the floor surrounding her. She heard gentle laughs coming from behind her before they fully surrounded her. The faces of those she thought she recognized were no longer there. Instead she was surrounded in a featureless room with featureless people. The hands still came up from the floor, multiplying as the seconds went on. They gripped at her feet, slowly working their way until they had hold of her calves. Their nails dug into her skin, causing a gentle cry to break from her lips. She couldn’t hear it over the sound of the echoing laughter still surrounding her. She could feel herself getting pulled without any way to stop it.

One more sudden yank and she was surrounded by darkness.

It was then that she woke, sitting straight up in her bed with her chest heaving. Her breath struggled to come from her lungs fully and it felt as though she was gasping in that moment. She brought a hand up to place on her forehead. Her skin was cool, despite the sweat that had pooled around her hairline. She forced herself to lay back for one more moment as she did her best to gather herself. It took much longer than she would’ve like to finally catch the breath that had been lost and even longer to compose herself enough to finally pull herself out of bed. She didn’t bother casting a glance towards herself in the mirror as she passed it on her way to the wardrobe. She knew that her hair was nothing more than a disaster in that moment and she probably looked as pale as the bedsheets she laid in.

She pulled the doors to the wardrobe open once she reached it, eyes slowly scanning over the dresses she had. She hadn’t bothered to begin to pack for the ball or the trip to the kingdom just yet, though she knew she was going to have to soon. She decided on a soft blue dress, one that flowed and match the sun on the brightest of spring days. It was one of her more comfortable dresses, one that she reserved for when she didn’t feel the need to get as dressed as she normally would. She carefully removed the nightgown she had on and quickly did her corset. She then pulled the dress on. She made her way back to her vanity to grab her hairbrush. She carefully combed through the knots, deciding upon leaving her hair down for that day. She knew it wouldn’t be hard to pull it back into a braid if she so desired during the day.

She made her way to the door leading to the corridor, hand hovering over the handle for a moment. She cast a glance over her shoulder and to the floor, almost as though she was assuring herself that everything before had been a dream. With a deep breath, she grasped the handle and stepped into the hallway. The sun had risen part of the way into the sky by the time she emerged from the room and she had a feeling Emory was awake by that point. The young lord wasn’t one to spend much time sleeping, if any at all. She could smell good wafting from the dining hall, her stomach growling. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was until that moment. She quickly made her way down the stairs with light steps before soon arriving in the dining hall. It was then that she spotted Emory. A pleasant smile came to her lips as she moved to take her usual seat. “Good morning. I hope you managed to at least get some sleep.” Her words were soft as her eyes fell on him.
 
As Emory had made his way down the stairway, his gaze shifted toward the dining table, seeing that it was still empty had made him feel... conflicted. Was he even ready to face Rose or Viola? How would they look at him? Tension crossed his expression only for him to nearly jump out of his skin as Rose had suddenly spoken; the man startled by her sudden presence had stepped back, a rare sign of him being taken off guard. Yet at her question, he looked away from her own, unable to meet them as he said plainly, "Yes." He paused after he spoke, his voice sounding a bit rough even to his own ears. Though, perhaps this was because he had lied to her, still reeling from the depth of his memories. Pull yourself together already.

Slowly, the man had moved to sit across from Rose, his expression controlled and calm as his hands clasped before him. He seemed awkward almost, though this was probably due to him feeling embarrassed about how much he had shared about his past. He was ashamed of it, although he shouldn't be. After all it wasn't his fault; life had merely given him and continued to give him an unfair hand. After a few moments pause of silence, Emory's gaze had shifted up to look at Rose.

She was as lovely as ever to his eyes, and he certainly appreciated the color of blue against her skin. However, something felt... off. He didn't know why he felt as if it was odd, but perhaps it was because of the night's events that caused the air to feel so different. His golden eyes shifted down toward his clasped hands again, clean and clear of blood aside from the occasional cresent cut that marred his skin causing him to immediately shift his arms closer to himself, more shame filtering through his mind at his crumbling conduct. He really should be better than this.

"...You look nice today." The compliment was spoken quietly as he forced his gaze up to look at Rose, a tint of a smile managing to cross his cold countenance as he allowed a bit of emotion to flow through. Pleasant and mildly friendly, though he knew not how to properly act, whether he should apologize profusely over the previous night or leave it an unspoken memory. Perhaps, this would be fine, if he focused on Rose then he wouldn't be acting so strange, so anxious.

"Did you sleep well?" He repeated her question back to her, polite and careful. Eventually the young lord would act nornally... or one would hope.
 
Rose’s eyes widened slightly at the manner in which Emory jumped. She couldn’t recall a time where she had ever truly caught the man off guard, so this was a first. Her smile only seemed to grow at the sight of him. She had done her best to push the unpleasant thoughts from the night before out of her mind. She still intended to do everything within her power to assure the young lord that he had changed, that he was becoming someone that he never could’ve imagined being. The progress was slowly, truthfully, but she had every intention of being there with him every moment of the way. Her eyes landed upon his face, studying his expression as she had done multiple times before. She could see the dark bags beneath his eyes and the redness plaguing the whites of his eyes that came along with lack of sleep. She didn’t comment on it though, deciding it would be best to go along with him for that moment in time.

“I hope that you do not have too much planned for the day. I know I have been keeping you away from your duties enough, but I do feel as though a relaxing day would suit you.” She confessed as she got comfortable within her chair. She didn’t bother keeping her posture as straight as she normally would’ve. She leaned lightly against the back of the chair. Her hair fell over her shoulders, some across her back and the other framing her face. Her eyes didn’t move from Emory for a while, only finally meeting his gaze when he looked to her. Her expression softened at the compliment. “That is quite kind of you Emory, thank you.” Her words were truthful. She turned her gaze down to look at the dress she adorned that day. “I almost thought I hadn’t brought this dress with me. It is one of my favorites for a nice spring day.” She admitted. The temperatures were beginning to rise with each day that passed and she knew it would soon be far too hot for her to wear a good portion of her wardrobe. While she loved the summer, the winters were long and the fall temperatures had been rather cold as of late.

She brought her gaze back up to look towards Emory once more. She nodded her head slightly as he returned her question, the smile still present on her lips. It seemed as though she often had one permanently placed there whenever she was around Emory. “As well as I could. I have been having odd dreams as of late, but I am blaming it entirely on the change of weather.” She did her best to continue to lighten the air surrounding them. It wasn’t uncommon for her to talk more out of the two of them, so she was glad he was at least engaging with her. She could tell that something about him was still off, but she was assuming it was due to the amount he told them last night. She had appreciated the small bits of information he managed to give her in the past. Last night was something completely different, pushing him far out of his own comfort zone.

“Perhaps tonight could be the night that I can finally show my newfound culinary skills to you. I have learnt to make quite the feast while you were away.” She offered the suggestion out there. She assumed it would be good for Emory to have some space from Viola and herself if he preferred. She knew just how doting Viola could get and she was sure that was the last thing Emory wanted at that moment in time. “If I am feeling generous, perhaps I could make a pie or a custard. Though that is entirely dependent on your preference.” She added after a moment, recalling his fondness for sweets.
 
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