#wyman: ma'am.... that's.....that's my job.
@torncrocus : He lingers like a shadow, clings to the edges of the room as he is known to do. His concern for her rivals with his duty of keeping careful watch, fingers clenched behind his back, wordless as he stares at his grieving daughter. ( Oh how she has lost so much. It's not fair, it's never fair. First her mother, then Alexi, and now — now Elsa. It almost makes him angry. He shakes with it. The cruelty of the world. ) Slowly, Corvo reaches out, fingers just brushing the fabric of her shoulder. His hand closes around her shoulder, slow and careful, a gentle squeeze as he tugs her into a his arms. Holds her to his chest like it will protect her from her grief, and wishes he could do so much more.
— this is random !! / definitely accepting .
𝙼𝙰𝚈𝙱𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙶𝙴𝚃, 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝙲𝙾𝚁𝚅𝙾, 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚂𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙰𝚆𝙷𝙸𝙻𝙴. Not when you were stone, she swore to herself that she’d find a way to make you come back - no. When she was sitting on a dirty floor of a brothel, hand shaking, as she tried to draw some happy picture on paper. The Lord Regent himself had come in, trying to look guilty, as if the title granted to him: Lord Regent, didn’t mean anything in excusing Corvo. As he told her, hands clasped, that they had executed Corvo. Head chopped off.
Then he just simply left, Madame Prudence looked at Emily once, as if she actually momentarily felt something other than the money cushioned in her pocket. Then she left too, let the door shut behind her. At least they didn’t lock it, at least Emily wasn’t completely cooped up in that room, as she drew her family how she wanted to remember them the best. A 10 year old’s little drawing of Jessamine standing tall, Corvo hovering protectively around her, Emily between them. This Emily cries, tears just well up in her eyes after just silently sitting there.
Emily curls into Corvo, like the nights after they finally returned to the tower, trying to find comfort. Callista could only care so much: it seems she was the only one in the war between the Loyalists & The Regent’s people that remembered that Emily was simply only a 10-year-old kid. Everyone else only saw the heir to the throne. Emily’s head was pressed into Corvo’s shoulder. Such is the way of life that now she has to do something. Some remembrance, some speech. Then move on. But, her silent tears turn into loud sobs & she hasn’t felt so weak in so long. It’s like something was ripped straight from her chest. She’s trying to grasp at it. It just hurts so much. IT’S A PHYSICAL PAIN.
Isn’t she glad for once she doesn’t have to talk? Her voice would sound so hoarse, so weak. Mouth dry, she leans back, eyes red to sign: “ I would appreciate it if you kept Wyman as close as possible for awhile. ” She only has two friends left ..... now one of them is the queen, a weight only Emily can understand. The other is still her Royal Protector.
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