THIRD POV:
Outside, Kaldric stood by the stables, his hand still stained with the ink-like juice of the rose, his eyes were affixed on it with a strange, unnamed constriction which he immediately hated and instantly wiped his hand.
He was breathing heavily, a rush of adrenaline from a victory he hadn't asked for. But to ensure the solidification of the oath he made was important for him too.
"M-My Lord! Great Pillar!"
Kaldric looked over his shoulder, his hand instinctively dropping to his sword hilt.
The young stall owner stood there, trembling violently, fearing the judgement of his wrong actions. He held his cap in his hands, twisting it nervously.
"I-I humbly apologize, My Lord," the boy squeaked, bowing so low he nearly hit the dirt, fearing for his life, holding another black rose out to him.
"Hmm?"
"I did not realize she- she was your bride. She said nothing about her station. I... I took two copper coins when the price was but one. I took a double from a Lady of the Pillar! I am so sorry. Please, do not take my hand for the theft! Here is the second flower."
Kaldric's hand froze on his hilt. The world seemed to slow down, the warnings fading into a deafening silence replaced with a guilt.
"She... she actually bought it?" Kaldric asked, his voice sounding unstable with a sudden hesitation.
"Y-Yes, My Lord! She reached for the coins herself," the boy rambled, desperate to save his skin.
"If-if I had known she was your bride, I would have given the black rose for free. She looked so happy to find it. I didn't know–"
"Leave," Kaldric commanded, snatching the rose from his hand. It wasn't a roar this time. It was a broken, strangled whisper.
The boy didn't need to be told twice.
He turned and sprinted, disappearing into the shadows of the market, not giving Kaldric a moment to change his mind.
Kaldric stood alone, eyes wide, a twisted sensation curled his inside with the sting of a heavily wrong judgement.
He glanced down at the ground, where the crushed petals lay mangled in the dust.
"I gave her coins, Commander," Aldwin started with a disappointed sigh.
"Since you were too busy to remember you had a bride who might need something. I gave her three coins, to test her. She bought the ribbon for one and two for the rose."
"Why did you not inform me?" Kaldric snarled, his breaths hastening with an uneasy distress. The functioning of his mind began to hinder, glaring at the knight.
"Just wanted to check how long your performance will last." He smirked coldly, rolling his eyes as Kaldric stood stunned, failing the register.
There was no scheme. No harlotry. Just a girl who had spent her only coins to buy a flower that looked like… him.
"Quite a feat, Commander, to defeat a rebel army is one thing. "
Aldwin was leaning against a wooden post. His eyes shifted down to the ruined flower with a cold smile.
"To defeat a girl with a rose... that is a truly legendary victory. I'm sure the bards will sing of your bravery tonight."
Aldwin didn't wait for a reply. He shook his head and walked away, his silence settling in him, worsening his perception.
Kaldric remained in his position as the remorse of his action began to surge in his veins.
Slowly, with a hand that had cleaved through armor and bone, he knelt.
He reached into the dust, picking up the bruised, torn petals one by one. His movements were slow, almost reverent.
He pulled a small, silk pouch from his belt, one he usually used for sharpening stones.
He carefully brushed the dirt from the black scraps and tucked them inside. He pulled the drawstring tight and pressed it against his chest before tugging it there.
He looked toward the inn, for the first time in his life, the Commander found himself small, and she was the only thing that had ever been pure.
He misjudged and carrying the weight of it, he went back.
She had been a wife, spending her meager copper to buy a piece of beauty for a man who only gave her iron.
When he burst through the doors, the scene in the corner turned his blood to liquid fire. Gawain's hand was in her hair, tracing a line, poking her cheek while she was staring at the fire with nothingness.
Before Gawain's finger could graze her lips, with a bone-shatteering strength, Kaldric emerged and yanked him away furiously.
"Away from her, Gawain." Kaldric's enraged voice came, silencing the men as they lowered their gazes instantly.
"Commander, I-I–"
Not listening to his judgement, he threw him away, causing him to land on the ground, earning looks from everyone.
Kaldric didn't give them a second glance. He reached down, his fingers locking around Ardelle's wrist with a grip that was desperate and bruising.
He hauled her up, dragging her through the common room and up the narrow stairs to their quarters.
He slammed the door behind them as he threw her on the bed outrageously.
"What were you doing, Woman?" he hissed, walking towards her, hovering over her lifeless form angrily.
"Sitting there like a piece of meat for every scavenger in the town to leer at? Have you no shame? Have you no sense of safety, Ardelle?"
Ardelle didn't flinch. She sat exactly where he had dropped her hand, her gaze affixed to the ground as her head stayed bowed how he 'wanted'
"Why must you present yourself to every man? How dare you let Gawain touch you? What–"
Kaldric stopped, his chest heaving, his possessiveness disappearing, replaced with a concern when he earned no justification.
The silence coming from her was unnerving.
"Did... did anyone do something to you?" he asked, his voice losing its edge, replaced by a sudden, sharp dread, leaning forward to level his head with hers.
"Before I arrived. Did he say something? Touched you anywhere else?"
She slowly shook her head. No.
"Gawain is a dog," Kaldric spat, turning away to pace the small room, his spurs clinking.
"He sees a woman alone and thinks she is fair game. That bastard has no idea how to control his damned eyes. You–"
The silence was more painful than her screams had ever been.
Kaldric turned away, moving to the small table where a servant had left a tray of bread, roasted fowl, and a bowl of fruit.
He required an abrupt, hopeless need to mend the scar, to put the world back in its place. He brought the tray over, setting it on the edge of the bed and sat down.
He picked up a large, crisp apple, the fruit he knew she adored, and held it out to her.
"Eat," he commanded, though it sounded more like a plea, "You have had nothing since dawn."
Ardelle looked at the apple. She looked at the hand offering it, the same hand that had crushed her gift in the dirt.
She didn't reach for it. She didn't even blink and let the hefty silence settle in.
"I have no appetite, My Lord." She gave a quiet, cold reply.
"Eat. You need it." He pressed, placing the apple back on the tray and sat on the other side of the bed, picking a plate and biting onto his food with his narrowed eyes observing the woman who didn't shift.
"Also," He tossed the coin onto her lap and shoved the flower toward her with a defensive sneer.
"The boy cheated you. The price was one copper coin. Here is your coin. And here is your… trifle. Stop looking like a martyr." He muttered, without realizing his choices of words had been harsh.
Ardelle finally moved, she pushed the things from her lap and looked at him with a weary expression.
"May I go back to sleep, My Lord?" Her voice was devoid of the melody he had grown used to.
"I am... very tired."
"Ardelle, I am giving you–"
"I don't want it," she interrupted softly. She finally met his eyes, and the creature of light he had feared was gone.
Her eyes were as cold as the ash in the hearth, the embers in them had died by his very hands.
"I don't want the coin, and I don't want the flower. I just want the day to be over, My Lord. May I?"
She turned and climbed onto the bed, pulling the furs over her head and curling into a ball.
She didn't cry, sigh. She simply disappeared under the duvets, shutting her eyes, hoping to shut herself from this world back in the days.
Kaldric stood in the center of the room, the gold coin glinting mockingly on the tray.
He had his vow, his coldness, followed his mother's script to the letter.
But as he stared at the woman who wouldn't even look at him, he realized that winning this war felt exactly like losing his soul because this time her flickers weren't dimmed, they had died.