A cold jolt ran through her spine as though she had been plunged straight into the depths of the ocean. The murder of one of the Orders and the accusation falling upon the Emberlain princes was not something Vivia had imagined in her wildest dreams. She was grateful for Zerath's wisdom in keeping the situation spiraling out of control, or another war would have been in the making.
But as much as the news had shaken her out of her wits, the fragmented pieces of the puzzle were beginning to click in place. Not fully, but the realization that either Elvin or Aeren or perhaps both could have attempted on her life in Rudaheim didn't come as a surprise.
Zerath asked, studying the shift in her expression, "Do you know something?"
"No. I wasn't aware they colluded with Sir Malphas and Astaroth to harm me, but…I believe I know the reason."
"I assume it's to destabilize the peace between our realms."
"That could be one motive, yes. But I think a larger focus is at play here. At Claudia's tea party, I heard rumors that Clairette was possibly in love…with a demon."
Zerath stared unblinkingly. It took him only a moment for the full implication to become as clear as daylight. A marital union between the two races was a blasphemy. Even in his capacity as the Crown Prince, he wasn't able to secure his own marriage - simply because the woman in question was a human.
"Also, I felt I caught a glimpse of the man in her memories. Someone whom she was discreetly meeting with in the Realm of Harmony. Which was why Audreya misunderstood her involvement in my death because she had seen a noblewoman handing gold to the assassin."
"Audreya?"
Vivia took a deep breath and this time, explained the entire chain of events leading up to the tea party - and subsequently, everything that had unfolded.
"Priscilla was trying to spark a rumor about how Clairette secretly loved a demon. Then her memories invaded my mind. I couldn't see who that man - or that demon was. But now that you said one of her brothers wanted to harm me - harm Clairette, it seems more probable that he wanted her gone because she loved a demon? A royal princess falling for her archenemy is a sin beyond imagination."
Her fists clenched. "The peace between our realms is very fragile, Zerath - almost as if it's only on paper. One spark is all it needs to bring everything to a ruin. Amidst this, if the Emberlain royal family discovered that their princess had fallen for a demon, would they stand for it? Peace is just an illusion. Hatred is what is real. I couldn't help but think that's why Clairette was…"
"Would her brothers truly go as far as killing their own sister?" He asked quietly.
"I don't know. But truth to be told, nobody holds Clairette in much high regard. It's only her mother, Queen Regina, who truly loves her."
Her own words struck her heart like poison. Regina's love was meant for her daughter, Clairette, not an imposter wearing her face. Vivia pushed that somber thought aside, for something far more serious was at stake here.
"I feel at a loss, Zerath. Was Clairette truly killed because someone had found out? If that's so, then…where does this leave us?"
Vivia hated feeling this weak and afraid. She was the kind to rebel. If she had to wield her sword to stand for her beliefs, she wouldn't exhibit even a trace of hesitation.
But Zerath and her love was far beyond a simple rebellion. The hatred ran so deep that the royal family chose to kill Clairette rather than exposing this blasphemy before the whole world. There was no place for a human and demon to ever unite. It was a far-fetched dream even now - just as it was more than five hundred years ago.
Hence, the future unnerved Vivia. The tea party was just a small but a very blaring glimpse into reality to show how that notion was utterly rejected. To fight that on a scale of an entire realm, against your own people, just to win the freedom to love the man you chose, was an incredibly staggering weight to her.
It was then that it occurred to her - why Clairette probably gave it her all towards the unification.
She had seemed as a naive and innocent woman, but deep down, her heart was as strong as steel. No matter how ridiculous or impossible it sounded, no matter the countless times she was mocked, she never once backed down. She didn't sit still and choose to accept her fate. She chose to fight for it.
She fought until it cost her very life.
And in that moment, Vivia realized…how arrogant it was of her to think she was stronger and more unyielding than Clairette.
Who had she been fighting with until now? Elvin? Aeren? Priscilla? Maybe Judith. Maybe the noble ladies at the tea party as well.
But there was Clairette, fighting hatred that went back centuries ago. So deeply lodged within the trenches of people's hearts that it felt impossible akin to an immovable mountain.
"I'm so pathetic, Zerath…" she whispered, tears brimming her eyes, "Before Clairette, I'm nothing more than just a coward."
Zerath cupped her face in an attempt for his warmth to deep into her cold self-doubts.
"I'm just as afraid as you, Vivia. At times, I wonder if we're taking on an enemy far too beyond our capabilities. But then I remember what my Master told me long ago. That was when he was training me in swordsmanship. Father had held a competition to choose his heir, and whoever won in all the battles would be adopted. It was my Master who decided that I'd participate. My opinion wasn't accounted for. He dumped me in the training arena anyway."
A dry glint passed through his eyes as he thought back to those gruesome training days. Vivia felt a pang of sympathy for him. In a way, they were quite similar.
"I was just a kid raised on the streets," he smiled. "But I was very rebellious. I hated the ones in power crushing people like me with no status or money. I understood my Master's intentions, but living as the King's son wasn't something I had ever imagined for my life. I didn't want that identity. Rule an entire realm? It was just too hard. Too bothersome."
She nodded, understanding where he was coming from. Ruling the realm was a real pain, burdened with all kinds of responsibilities. Not everybody was born for it.
"My master kicked me in the stomach quite mercilessly and had sent me flying."
She sweated inwardly. Yet again, she shared his sentiments. A Master's fists hurt more than the bear clawing through your skin. A ghost pain hovered over her head - a head that had suffered her fair share of violent smacks.
"He had squeezed my ears until they bled, and said that I was free not to participate. But then I would forfeit every right to speak against those nobles either. Either I sit still and wait for the circumstances to change for my convenience or lead the change myself. I countered that it was easier said than done."
"...Did he kick you again?" She fanned her sweaty face.
He smiled. "No."
His gaze went distant as the echo of his master's words came drifting back to him.
'Stopping the war was also easier said than done. And yet if some people hadn't risen to the occasion, we'd have still been burying dead bodies. It's fine if you act. It's fine if you do nothing. As long as you face your death without leaving any regrets behind, you're free to take action or remain silent.'