The Assassination War (11)

Sithe harbored a measure of responsibility for Edan’s demise.

Had she acted swifter, more precise in her assaults, Edan would never have needed to approach that Demon directly.

While not excessively self-castigating for failing rather than faltering, witnessing his lifeless form inevitably inflicted disquiet.

Yet truthfully, Sithe’s greater concern surrounded Freugne’s potential to veer onto destructive trajectories in the aftermath.

“No, that can’t be right. No, this mustn’t happen……”

Freugne’s murmurings were scarcely audible even to Sithe positioned beside her.

While unfamiliar with techniques for fostering organizational loyalty, administrating bureaucracies, or consolidating authority, Sithe prided herself on her comprehensive understanding of Freugne’s humanity.

And the Freugne she knew would never simply rationalize such tragedies.

She might have understood reckless vows of vengeance, but this eerie stillness proved far more unsettling, unable to predict where Freugne’s roiling emotions might erupt.

“Lady Freugne.”

“I know what you intend to say, but just watch. He’ll revive momentarily.”

“……”

“Definitely, definitely……”

No sane individual uttered such statements.

Literature frequently depicted such obsessive, delusional attempts to forcibly tether the deceased to this realm through transactional offerings, did it not?

Sithe recognized this as a pivotal juncture demanding firm resolution.

She understood humanity’s aversion to confronting discomfiting truths. Freugne might even vilify her for it.

But prior to being Freugne’s superior, she had been her schoolmate – and owed her this candid counsel, even now.

‘Lord Edan had been my benefactor too. So while I cannot fully comprehend, I grasp his significance to some extent… But reality cannot be disregarded.’

‘He has passed beyond, departed to a realm wherefrom none return. However agonizing, you must accept this separation. My presence may provide little solace, but I shall remain by your side.’

Gently imparting this reality while consoling her – that had been Sithe’s intent upon treading that path.

The inception: accepting his death.

Carefully selecting her phrasing to minimize traumatizing Freugne further, Sithe had finally parted her lips, speaking slowly:

“Hueck.”

“?”

“…?!”

Before uttering more than a syllable, Edan jolted, raggedly inhaling.

Could he be a spirit? Or had she simply descended into delusional denial herself?

Blinking repeatedly, Sithe discerned Edan’s grotesquely contorted neck reverting to its original configuration.

Awaiting momentarily, he resumed breathing as if naught had transpired.

‘He’s alive. But how? Why?’

Just as Freugne had proclaimed.

‘How is this even possible?’

Sithe decisively skipped contemplating Edan’s reanimation – undoubtedly transcending human comprehension.

However, she formulated her own retrospective rationalization for Freugne’s vehement assertions of his persisting vitality.

‘Could she have foreseen this eventuality too?’

Scrutinizing Freugne’s countenance, Sithe immediately dismissed that notion.

Freugne gaped in stunned stupefaction, as dumbfounded as the others.

While refraining from the operatives’ instinctive self-inflicted pinches to dispel potential hallucinations, that simply accommodated her current inability to overtly emote.

Freugne’s lips began quivering before she erupted into stifled giggles, her expressions contorting confusedly between laughter and sobs.

For an extended period, Freugne silently gazed into Edan’s eyes.

Then, a solitary teardrop trickled down her chin, splattering upon his face.

“…Eh?”

Freugne uttered that befuddled monosyllable.

Peculiar. Since Edan had not perished, she should harbor no extraordinary emotions regarding his awakening.

Yet her own tearful reaction implied…

Sheer elation at his resurrection.

‘Ah.’

Only then did Freugne acknowledge Edan’s preceding mortality.

Grieving that deprivation, yet simultaneously overjoyed beyond measure – her tears streamed freely as Edan gently brushed them aside.

Sithe inwardly exhaled a sigh of relief.

At least Freugne had momentarily regained her candor, seemingly stabilizing her psyche.

“Heh, heh heh…”

“…….”

Whatever resolution she had subsequently reached, prompting that sinister grin, Sithe deemed unworthy of immediate concern.

Clearly, profound emotional upheavals had transpired – issues Edan, as their catalyst, would need to address personally.

Not long after, Sithe received Freugne’s request to reassign all domestically stationed personnel under her direct command.

As ever, Sithe diligently executed her superior’s directives.

---

The meeting adjourned inconclusively.

After enduring such terrorist disruptions, protracted deliberations seemed inadvisable – outstanding matters would be addressed via correspondence.

The Earl of Norton, subjected to Demon interrogations before his unceremonious abandonment within Admere’s outskirt underground holdings, had been promptly retrieved by Sithe’s meteoric arrival.

“There’s a person here!”

“We’ve come to rescue you! But we’ll need to demolish this door, so please stand back!”

Though visibly haggard, he had survived – a acceptable outcome. s learn through errors.

For Freugne, this had transcended mere missteps into calamity. Yet invaluable lessons could still be gleaned.

Her ingrained Demon prejudices had been long-established defaults, intensifying in degree rather than representing novel insights.

Momentary dalliances with the perilous Demon extermination dogma had surfaced, but dissipated once Edan’s revival rendered such extremities redundant.

She had grudgingly acknowledged Demons’ capacity for intelligence.

And personally experienced the fragility of even meticulously devised plans – a lesson necessitating empirical tutelage. Moderating her prophetic indulgences while prioritizing adequate rest had also become self-evident imperatives.

But if pressed to pinpoint her paramount epiphany:

‘Humans perish more readily than anticipated.’

While not her inaugural exposure to mortality itself, this had been her first intimately personal bereavement.

The breathtaking realization, the paralyzing dread of perpetual solitude –

Freugne’s self-preservation instincts had swiftly rationalized away those sensations through reality-denial. Yet revisiting such traumas proved wholly unnecessary.

And even now, lingering vestiges of that terror persisted.

“Uncle.”

“Yes, why?”

“Could you spare me a private moment?”

Freugne had resolved against further procrastination regarding her regrets.

Unhesitatingly, Edan acquiesced, allowing Freugne to lead him into her quarters.

Ensuring they remained unaccompanied behind closed doors, Freugne addressed him:

“I love you.”

“Indeed, as do I.”

Edan nodded matter-of-factly, as if reaffirming the obvious.

“You understand I don’t mean that conventionally, don’t you?”

“…….”

“Do you love me, Uncle?”

“I, that is to say–”

“Originally, I had intended awaiting your response further. But I’ve realized delaying would be futile – I wish to leave no lingering regrets.”

“…….”

“You see, I adore you immensely. Yet I’ve never properly expressed those sentiments, have I?”

Freugne stepped closer to him.

“And being the selfish person I am, I truly wish you reciprocated those feelings…”

“So allow me to reiterate my inquiry – do you love me?”

Previously, she could never have broached this subject proactively.

Yet Freugne had mustered her courage. Though her internalization remained incomplete, she refused to further procrastinate as resolved.

Edan perceived the visceral trepidation of rejection permeating her question – having nurtured her himself, how could he remain oblivious?

And while Freugne likely deemed the timing premature, Edan had deliberated exhaustively upon this very subject.

Deferring his response remained an option.

Promising an eventual answer would compel Freugne, despite lingering disquietude, to accept it resignedly through obligatory acquiescence.

And so it had perpetually deferred, cyclically postponed.

Perhaps this represented the juncture to sever that interminable chain.

Licking his lips nervously, Edan spoke in hushed tones:

“…Yes.”

“Then, could you substantiate those feelings for me?”

“……”

“Here, in this moment.”

Seemingly deeming that insufficient, Freugne appended a final utterance:

“…We are presently unaccompanied.”