[ Hope is a dangerous thing in a world like theirs, for creatures like Claret and Titian and Vermillion. It can come simply, couched in a younger sister's smile, in the touch of her small hands upon a brother's face and his throat. Or it can come cruelly, in promises made but never kept, in the possiblity that love can and will survive when it has no room and no right to in the first place. Of all the crimes that have been committed both by and against the name Duke, none were as hopeful and as well-meaning as Claret's. (To believe in brother who did not deserve faith, to entrust her heart to a creature ruled by sentiments much baser than affection or love.)
This is the only — the worst — lie that he ever tells his younger sister and almost immediately its venom sets to work. Claret's cheeks flush and her eyes grow wet and even though she holds her enthusiasm in reserve its obvious by the look she gives that she wants to believe. (More than anything.) Part of her — foolish and feckless and lovesick — already does. ]
Do— [ Her voice is small. Almost childlike. Claret's teeth worry at her bottom lip and she looks away. ] —do you? Will you?
[ Her gaze is shy and reluctant, worried perhaps of the answer she'll find in Titian's expression. ] Could you want me that much?
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This is the only — the worst — lie that he ever tells his younger sister and almost immediately its venom sets to work. Claret's cheeks flush and her eyes grow wet and even though she holds her enthusiasm in reserve its obvious by the look she gives that she wants to believe. (More than anything.) Part of her — foolish and feckless and lovesick — already does. ]
Do— [ Her voice is small. Almost childlike. Claret's teeth worry at her bottom lip and she looks away. ] —do you? Will you?
[ Her gaze is shy and reluctant, worried perhaps of the answer she'll find in Titian's expression. ] Could you want me that much?