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⠀⠀⠀⠀Lune is eight when Pa doesn't return home.
⠀⠀⠀⠀He doesn't return home but Ma assures Lune that he will, someday. But he won't. Lune knows of death, Ma doesn't know the fact she does, and instead of telling the truth, Lune hears nothing but lies. There's no body to bury, no trace left of her father's existence, nothing. His name is engraved on a headstone—nothing special about it. Gael Sion was a man, a soldier, a father and a husband. A hero to some. But even then as a hero, the graves are all the same. All graves are surrounded by grass, weathered through the years. Flowers are left at their headstones because it seems regret for the dead is more than gratefulness for the once-living.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Graveyards aren't a place for comfort. Most limit their visits, most never visit at all after the funeral but Lune has lost count of her visits over the years. The graveyard, his grave, is a place for comfort, somewhere she can be left alone for as long as she wants. She sits there until her legs go numb. She doesn't talk, doesn't move. She doesn't do anything but sit there in silence. She just wants to hide beside his grave till she, too, gets buried. It has been eight years since his name was engraved onto that headstone, and it has been a few months since she became a soldier.
⠀⠀⠀⠀Now at sixteen, Lune is a soldier. Had been top of her class, and had the opportunity to work in the inner ring but didn't take it. Erwin Smith is a name Lune has heard tumble out of Ma's mouth countless times before Pa's death. Her Ma begged her not to go, but she did. She did it because of her father, because she wants to know who Erwin Smith is, and because of her friends. Being in the Scout Regiment, her grave is already made and her headstone beacons, all she needs to find out is if she'll be buried before she sees a world with no pain.
⠀⠀⠀⠀She finds herself at his grave, again. She has visited his grave twice this week—this is her third. Unlike her past visits this week, today, it's raining and she lets the cold, the water seep into her bones, settling next to the tragedy. Lune tilts her head to the sky, her eyes—like the setting sun—flutter close and she feels the shorter strands of her night hair stick to her forehead.
⠀⠀⠀⠀The rain stops. It stops pouring on her. She opens an eye to see an umbrella held above her by her Ma. Her Ma frowns, "Get up. We have somewhere to be." We? Lune's brows furrow, looking at her mother with both eyes. "I'm getting married." What?
⠀⠀⠀⠀"What?" Lune shoots up, stepping from the shelter of the umbrella.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"I'm getting married. . . again," says Ma. Lune pushes her hair back, eyes darting, looking anywhere but her mother.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"With who?" Ma steps closer, Lune steps back.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"The engagement party is today. And I need you to be there." (A party while people are out there dying.) She's avoiding it, but Lune already knows who it is. A nobleman. One with no brain but marrying him ensures Ma's safety in the inner walls.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"Why? To keep up false appearances?"
⠀⠀⠀⠀"And—" Lune takes a shaky breath, "And what about Pa?"
⠀⠀⠀⠀"Gael is dead, Lune." Ma chokes back a sob, finally able to be at arms-length with Lune. A hot tear escapes from her eye, and Ma can see it all too clearly without the rain pouring on her daughter. "This man, he can keep me safe, keep you safe," Lune shakes her head, and more tears roll down her cheeks. "He has the money, the connections—"
⠀⠀⠀⠀"But are you happy?" asks Lune and Ma couldn't answer that.
⠀⠀⠀⠀"He's a good man, Lune—"
⠀⠀⠀⠀Lune repeats her question, "But are you happy?"
⠀⠀⠀⠀Ma answers, "I will be." (No.)
⠀⠀⠀⠀"I wish you the best, Ma." Lune starts walking, not turning away from her. Over the rain, her voice reaches her. "Enjoy the party." Lune, finally, turns away.
