𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 ↷ scaramouche x reader

CHAPTER SEVEN . クラウンを高く着用する

"Young Master— let's get you inside." She staggered towards the door to your room, opening it to help you inside. Once entering the room, Wenling reached for the waste bin sitting in the corner of the room and pulled it closer to you. You crumbled to your knees, head over the waste bin, gagging and coughing violently to push down the repulsive taste of vomit. Wenling moved to your side, gently rubbing circles against your back as you suppressed the horrid sight of your breakfast half digested. You coughed violently, spitting wads of saliva into the bin as you choked back retch.

Your chest felt tight; lungs failed to capture oxygen as you breathed deeply but you drew no air.

"W-Wenling... are you... okay?" You croaked, eyes flickering to the bandages wrapped around her arms and legs. Guilt riddled your words of sympathy, feeling responsible for what had happened because of her affiliation to you.

Wenling pursed her lips together, shaking her head at you. "Worry not, Young Master. It is my duty to protect you... and I failed... I am undeserving to be your maid."

Your eyes opened in bewilderment, prompting you to reach out to her, gently taking her calloused hands into your own, examining her hand in scrutiny. A deepening frown tugged at your lips as words of regret were kept to your heart.

Wenling looked up, her doe eyes flickering up to gaze into yours. Her words are soft, reassuring. "Young Master... do not fret over my condition. I assure you that I shall remain by your side for as long as Celestia allows me to breathe upon this earth."

"Wenling..." You muttered out, shaking your head at her. A tight-lipped frown grew more prominent on your face. "Wenling, I'm sorry..."

Wenling has witnessed your harrowing ordeals, calamity, and all. Death loomed over your life yet she remained close, standing by your side. Your sole friend— one that you didn't coerce into befriending you through manipulation or money. One that trusted you, offered up her life to you. She was your shield, your sole protector when the world was too cruel to you.

Yet you failed as her friend to protect her with what you could provide with what material wealth you possess.

"Are you done weeping?"

You turned your head, glancing over your shoulder to see your frowning fiancé, in his normal garb stripped of his hat, standing by the open door to your room.

Absolutely no respect for privacy nor a shred of decency. You kept your thoughts to yourself, glaring at your fiancé.

"I'm done, thank you very much." You snapped  at him, your words dripping in sarcasm. You shoved the waste bin aside and shakily stood from your crouched position.

"Why did you eat something you know would upset your stomach?" Scaramouche raised an eyebrow at you.

"Why? Because I was craving some comfort food since my dear friend was practically on her deathbed and you, my fiancé lacks the ability to display any sort of emotions other than anger, arrogance, and dissatisfaction towards me." You almost yelled, shaking your head at him.

"You're hurting yourself." He hissed back, glowering at you.

"You actually care about my well-being? Wow! That's a first! I'm quite surprised you cared at all!" You gestured at him dramatically, rolling your eyes at him in annoyance.

"Young Master." Wenling's stern warning made you freeze and reel back the words that you were about to spat at your fiancé. You held your tongue, unwilling to let poison spill from your lips. You turned your head away from him, unable to keep looking at him.