Devil May Cry ~ Fill Your Dark Soul With Light ~ {Dante x Reader}

Chapter 25: Unable to Forgive

"Is that her?"

"Is she the girl who attacked the king?"

"I heard she was going to be executed, but the king saved her."

"How stupid, look how filthy she is. What's the point of having her clean when she's only going to dirty the floors."

"What's with the veil? Did she have a fight with some drunken men?"

If there was anything new you learnt during your short stay, it was that news traveled extremely fast in the castle grounds. 

Wherever you walked, you could hear the other maids and servants whispering among themselves behind your back.

Their judging stares, felt like daggers being stabbed into your flesh. You would turn to look at them from time to time, but they'll only respond by looking away or stare back with eyes of pity.

You didn't blame them though, it was human nature to gossip about people, especially if they didn't fit into the social norms of this castle.

As long as it made them feel better about themselves, you couldn't really stop them. It wasn't like a mere peasant like you had the strength to talk back, they'll only laugh back.

Ignoring the constant whispering behind you, you continued to clean the area around you. Sally was not far from you, conversing with the other servants and maids. It was crazy how simple it was for someone to change when with another person, they were like totally different people when they were around her.

Sighing, you gazed up to see a collection of paintings hanging up on the walls. Lined one after another were the paintings of the past kings of Lucis--all framed in immensely detailed gold frames.

Each and every of of them was garbed in the same black leather cloak with the plate of armour on the shoulder. They had their hand resting on the hilt of the sword with the other on their hip, the crown sat beside them on a extravagantly clothed table. 

In front of the draped backdrop of black and silver, all stood tall and proud--with their stoic expressions--alluding them the image of absolute power and authority.

Your line of sight followed down the line until they fell upon the portrait of the late King Regis--the 113th king of the royal Caelum family.

Like all the other kings, he to held the same pose; tall, straight and powerful. But unlike them, through his rough features and dark hair at the time, you could see a sense of gentleness.

He was a great king, a one that everyone in the whole of Lucis loved. He listened to his people's every word, allowing him to strive for the very best for his kingdom.

It was complete devastation when he lost his life during the invasion. Many said that he was killed while others said it was sacrifice he chose to make. But whatever rumour was true, it still didn't change the fact that he was really gone--leaving the future of Lucis into the hands of his only heir.

With that being said, you then turned your eyes to the painting of Noctis.

Garbed in a suit with the same leather black cloak carried by many generations, draped over his shoulders, he stood high, his hand resting on the sheathed sword and the crown sitting beside him. The painting gave him that look of power and strength--if only he was truly like that in reality.

His expression was fixed almost emotionless, like he'd been crushed one too many times. There was no anger, no sadness, no joy or resentment. It was just cold and distant, like the distance he was putting between him and his people.