VALENTINE was in his private gym, his fists wrapped tightly as he hamred a heavy punching bag. Sweat poured down his face and soaked his shirt. Each punch was hard and sharp, fueled by the frustration and helplessness he had felt since leaving the palace. He put all of his anger into every hit, the bag swinging wildly with the force of his blows.
The image of Cynric’s closed off expression as he told him to leave flashed in his mind. The frustration he felt doubled over once again. He swung his hand hard, and his fist connected with the punching bag, sending it swinging far away from him. As it swung back toward him, he heard his Terminal ring, causing him to stop mid-motion.
If it had been an ordinary call, he would have ignored it. But that particular notification sound was assigned to only one person. He knew imdiately who was calling. He quickly pulled off his gloves and accepted the call.
Cynric’s face filled the screen. His golden hair was slightly ssy, as if he had been running his hands through it, and his golden eyes held a tired but focused look in them. Valentine’s breath caught in his chest. To him, even like this, Cynric was the most beautiful man he had ever seen.
He found himself staring, his own frustration montarily forgotten, completely captivated by the man on the screen. His fists, which had been clenched tight monts before, relaxed at his sides. All he could do was look, his own feelings a tangled ss of devotion and worry that he could probably never put into words.
"Cyn," he said, his voice a little rough from exertion.
"Val," Cynric replied with a quiet and asured tone.
Valentine observed the other closely. He could see the slight tension in Cynric’s jaw and the way he seed to be avoiding direct eye contact. It was clear Cynric was worried about sothing. He looked like he had sothing important to say but did not know how or where to begin.
"Cyn, you know you can talk to about anything," Valentine said in a gentle voice. "So if there is sothing on your mind, just say it. Do not hesitate."
He watched as Cynric took a deep breath, as if readying himself for what he was about to say. Then Cynric lifted his head and looked straight at him. "You don’t need to co to the palace for a while."
Valentine went completely still. The words hit him like a physical blow, and for a mont he could not even breathe. A cold dread washed over him, followed by a sharp pain in his chest. This was it. This was the rejection he had always feared was coming. After everything, Cynric was finally casting him aside.
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms so hard he was sure they broke the skin. But he could not feel any pain. All he could think about was the possibility that Cynric ending their relationship.
Then, a bit of common sense entered his mind. No, no matter how angry Cynric was with him, he would not end their relationship over a video call. So the other saying they should not et for a while did not necessarily an it was the end.
Valentine took a few slow, calming breaths, forcing his voice to remain steady before he asked, "For how long?"
"A month."
Hearing that answer, Valentine let out a quiet sigh of relief. A month ant there was a deadline. It ant that after that ti, he could still see Cynric. This was not a permanent separation. But then, that feeling of relief quickly turned into confusion.
Because why? Why should they not et for a month? Then all the events of the day rushed back into his mind. From eting Astrid Townsend to the argunt between Cynric and that barbarian of a brother of his. Could this have sothing to do with that? Why was he even wondering? There was no way it was not connected.
"Is this because of that rabid wolf in human skin?" he asked, feeling the anger beginning to burn inside him again.
The helpless look that crossed Cynric’s face showed he knew exactly who Valentine ant.
"It does not have anything to do with Wulf," Cynric said, and then his face softened in a way Valentine rarely saw. "We had a real conversation today. For the first ti in years, we were actually honest with each other. And sohow, we managed to work things out."
Valentine felt like there was sothing wrong with what he had just heard. How could they have talked? Did it happen after he left the palace? But the real question was, would Wulfric actually sit down and have a real conversation with Cynric? He wanted to joke and ask how that could even be possible. But seeing Cynric’s expression face, he knew it must true.
He did not know how to react to that news. Even though Cynric had never said it out loud, Valentine knew he had always wanted a real brotherly relationship with Wulfric. But the two of them were so different, and both had too much pride and stubbornness. Valentine had thought it would take years for them to have that kind of honest talk, if it ever happened at all. To hear that it had already happened left him montarily speechless.
He knew he should be happy for Cynric. The other looked so much more at peace now compared to how broken he had seed when Valentine left the palace. One of Cynric’s deepest wishes had finally been fulfilled. But in a dark, hidden corner of his own heart, Valentine felt a sharp and unexpected bitterness instead.
Because why couldn’t he be enough to help Cynric? He had been there for years, through all the pain and the silence, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. He had given everything he had, even when it was not asked for. So why did it take one conversation with Wulfric to finally bring Cynric so peace?
The thought stung, making him feel inadequate and strangely replaced.
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