nanakawaichan
patreon
Dark Moon Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 394. He Respects The Truth, Even If It Burns
🕑 Added 2025-05-02 18:12:26 +0000 UTCThird Arc (Fallen Heart) - 394. He Respects The Truth, Even If It Burns
Angel finally pushed off the window and made his way back to his desk, grabbing the folder with the decoded message and tucking it into a drawer. The soft click of the lock sounded louder than it should’ve.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, voice final. “You’re dismissed.”
Darius bowed. “By your leave, Your Majesty.”
Cley stepped forward, already knowing the drill. “I’ll escort him.”
Angel didn’t reply, already flipping through a different set of papers, his mind shifting gears like a blade returning to its sheath. Efficient. Focused.
Darius and Cley left the study in silence, their footsteps echoing through the stone corridor. It wasn’t until they were out of earshot that Cley finally spoke.
“You did good in there,” he said, keeping his voice low. “He respects that.”
Darius gave a soft, humorless laugh. “He respects the truth. Even if it burns.”
Cley glanced sideways at him. “You worried?”
“I’d be stupid not to be,” Darius said. “But I trust him. That’s why I told him the truth.”
They reached the stairwell, and Cley gave a nod before turning back. “Be safe, Lord Darius.”
Darius nodded.
Cley made his way back through the quiet halls, the morning light warming the stone a little more now. The tension hadn’t completely left his shoulders, but he’d seen something else in Angel’s face—restraint.
Not weakness. Not softness. Just control.
He stepped back into the study without knocking. Angel didn’t look up.
“He’s gone,” Cley said, walking toward the desk.
“Good.”
Cley hesitated. “You still don’t trust him?”
Angel finally raised his eyes. “I trust him to tell me the truth.”
“And that’s enough?” Cley asked.
“For now.”
There was nothing more to add. That was the way it worked between them—no long-winded speeches, no drawn-out moral lessons. Just clarity. Measured, steady, and rarely ever soft.
Angel gave a short nod. “We’ll see again later.”
Cley mirrored the gesture, less precise, more relaxed, but still without his usual grin. “Yeah.”
He turned and made his way back to the smaller desk near the corner of the room—the one that was technically his but more often just a place to stack paperwork he didn’t want to carry around. As he dropped into the chair, the wood gave a soft creak. He pulled the file from the top of the pile and opened it without much thought, but for a moment, he didn’t actually read anything.
His fingers hovered over the page, then slowly drummed once on the edge.
Something about today felt... different.
Maybe it was the way he’d spoken to Angel earlier. Or the way he hadn’t cracked a single joke in the middle of a conversation that involved spies, possible war, and Harmonia. He usually couldn’t resist throwing in at least one sarcastic remark. That was his thing—charm his way through tension, lighten the room even when it was on fire.
But this morning?
He’d been composed. Sharp. Focused.
Weird.
He glanced toward Angel again, who was already scribbling something down on a margin, head tilted just slightly, brow furrowed the same way it always was when he was deep in thought.
Cley exhaled and looked back at his file. Maybe he was changing. Just a little. Maybe watching Angel move like he was constantly five steps ahead had rubbed off on him. Or maybe—just maybe—it was because today was the first day his twin sister wouldn’t be at his side.
Claire.
For as long as he could remember, Claire had always been there, hovering nearby with her stern face and clipped words, cleaning up his messes or dragging him by the ear to stop him from making new ones. But she wasn’t just his babysitter or tag-along. She was his twin, his mirror, the one person who understood what he was thinking before he even said it.
And now she belonged to someone else.
Queen Rose’s new assistant. Officially.
He’d teased her about it yesterday, of course. “Guess you like bossing around royalty now, huh?” he’d said with a grin. “You mean like I’ve been doing to you for years?”
Touché.
Still, the emptiness felt weird. The study felt different without her usual soft footsteps or her passive-aggressive sighs when he forgot to fill out the requisition forms. It wasn’t lonely, exactly. Just... quieter.
