You are.. a spirit, then? Immortal? ( Souls are ever that to a Catholic. No matter her relationship with the Almighty, she will never not believe that one's spirit is eternal. And it is a far more pleasant a thing to focus upon than the fact that he is otherwise dead. )
There must ever be a counterbalance. ( She softens her voice, and squeezes his hands. There is no excusing these monstrous things which Hyde has done. But. ) Every story must have a villain as well as a hero, or there can be no story. Hector and Achilles, Theseus and the Minotaur; Cleopatra and Octavian.
I will never excuse these actions he has taken. Nor your enjoyment in them. What I can offer you instead is understand, and forgiveness. Even as I seek both for myself.
( She debates upon whether or not she should speak of her own experience, and decides to, in the end. Not simply because he should know the manner of monarch he has sworn himself to, but also because now that he has offered her a free perusal of his catalogued misdeeds and atrocities, she, also deserves to have her own sins be thus put on display. )
When I was seventeen, my father died. My brother was to be crowned, but never made it to London freely. My mother took my sisters, youngest brother and I into Sanctuary, where Richard surrounded us with soldiers. They came for my brother Dickon, and they believed they had left with him. Neither were ever seen again. I heard Melusina's lament upon the Thames, faintly, like a lullaby. And I knew that whomever had done it, the boys were dead.
My mother and I cursed their murderer's line, so that they might share in our pain by knowing it themselves. And so it shall be. The line of Henry Tudor will end with a virgin girl, and then nothing.
I could never imagine that it would be my line, also. I have cursed my own unborn children, Doctor. Unless I never wed Tudor at all. ( Gently, she takes the book from him, accepting it as she now asks him to accept her. )
That too, is far more than darkness, I suppose. There is no excusing my sins, either.
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There must ever be a counterbalance. ( She softens her voice, and squeezes his hands. There is no excusing these monstrous things which Hyde has done. But. ) Every story must have a villain as well as a hero, or there can be no story. Hector and Achilles, Theseus and the Minotaur; Cleopatra and Octavian.
I will never excuse these actions he has taken. Nor your enjoyment in them. What I can offer you instead is understand, and forgiveness. Even as I seek both for myself.
( She debates upon whether or not she should speak of her own experience, and decides to, in the end. Not simply because he should know the manner of monarch he has sworn himself to, but also because now that he has offered her a free perusal of his catalogued misdeeds and atrocities, she, also deserves to have her own sins be thus put on display. )
When I was seventeen, my father died. My brother was to be crowned, but never made it to London freely. My mother took my sisters, youngest brother and I into Sanctuary, where Richard surrounded us with soldiers. They came for my brother Dickon, and they believed they had left with him. Neither were ever seen again. I heard Melusina's lament upon the Thames, faintly, like a lullaby. And I knew that whomever had done it, the boys were dead.
My mother and I cursed their murderer's line, so that they might share in our pain by knowing it themselves. And so it shall be. The line of Henry Tudor will end with a virgin girl, and then nothing.
I could never imagine that it would be my line, also. I have cursed my own unborn children, Doctor. Unless I never wed Tudor at all. ( Gently, she takes the book from him, accepting it as she now asks him to accept her. )
That too, is far more than darkness, I suppose. There is no excusing my sins, either.