- 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔰𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫. ミ

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october 1859

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october 1859






"How was your sleep, John?"

"Oh.. it was alright."
The clatter of cutlery grating against china plates filled the room after the awkward dialogue, the auburn-haired boy chewing on his eggs softly as he stared at the dining table in front of him. The room was devoid of people except for Mimi and John, sitting and eating their breakfast; one consuming their food slowly, the other devouring theirs as fast as possible to leave the room sooner. He wasn't very much in the mood to sit and have an awkward talk with his aunt, so he had planned to finish his eggs and toast with bacon quickly before making some excuse about needing time to himself after all the chaos of the last few weeks.

"Fetch me some water."
Mimi clicked her fingers at a nearby servant who bowed his head and left the room, coming back a minute later with a jug and cup - John cringed at the way the queen spoke to him. How can she do that and not feel at least some form of embarrassment for being so rude and demanding?

After the waiter left the room, Mimi decided to speak up again as she poured herself a cup of water; what John had been dreading, really. He knew something was probably coming. Mimi had been doing things like asking really mundane questions, unlike her usual self, which was never really asking those questions at all - and checking up on him frequently throughout the day, when she would often leave him to his own devices. It was Mimi speak for "I have something serious I want to talk to you about."

"John," she began. The boy in question lifted his head to gaze at her, pretending to be innocent and unknowing as he finished the last of his tea.

"Yes?"

"I need to talk to you a moment before you run off to your room again." The woman shifted in her seat and looked at him seriously. I hope she isn't gonna scold me again or something. I'm never going to be able to live up to her standards unless I become someone I'm not... a pep talk about 'fulfilling family legacy' is not what I need right now. He tapped his fingers against the table hesitantly for a moment, before letting out a defeated sigh and leant back in his chair.

"Alright. What is it?" He looked back at her, adjusting his glasses; she seemed to soften, no longer sharp edges and stern eyes. They were in fact, glistening with a sadness and some sort of guilt as she took a hasty sip of her water. It was unnerving to see such expressions on her, making him grow nervous as he gazed at his aunt. Mimi was never much of an emotional woman - she was the kind of person that would push through and move on, continue to be stoic and steel-hearted about life's grievances. It was very rare for her to be seen crying or talking about the stresses of life; John had seen her ever really break down her walls only twice in his life. She would always teach him to 'toughen up'. He wasn't allowed to cry or be upset, at least in front of other people - they just had to deal with it, maybe cry by themselves in their room for twenty minutes or so and move on with their lives. You always had to keep up an appearance for others, especially themselves because of their high stature. John never understood it, and probably never would. Why was it such a crime to grieve, to feel pain, to express it? Everyone has to deal with the pain and troubles that come with life, some more than others - why is it expected to just keep it all secret, bottled up inside you, having to put up a brave face for the public as if nothing had ever happened in the first place? It's just wrong. It's not how you should be expected to behave when you lose a loved one or deal with any sort of personal strife, in his opinion. Everyone hurts; pain is a fact of life. You should be allowed to express it, in order to heal.

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