A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1461 - 1461: The Grand Strategist - Part 7

He came at her almost recklessly, like a wild beast. He would never have dared to use such a degree of strength around a woman before, but it was as if he didn't at all have to be careful with her, for she so easily matched him.

That was, until, his excitement grew to a point, and what had been outstretched fingers curled into a fist, and he struck her stomach with enough force that it lifted her off her feet. He saw her eyes widen.

"G-gods!" He gasped.

"I'm fine," she told him bravely, but there were already tears running down her cheeks from the pain of it.

Blackwell had collapsed to his knees then, broken. The one thing that he had feared above any other – truly hurting his comrades, and truly hurting any woman that had dared to get close to him.

"You're crying," she'd told him.

"…" He'd been unable to reply, and point out the fact that she was crying too.

"There, there," she said, patting his head. "You're okay."

He tried to resist her touch, but before he knew where he was, his head was on her lap, and they'd found their way under the quietness of the tree, and all its shade. Gently, she soothed him, with her arms wrapped around his stomach, and her little head resting on his chin.

He felt his pride creek, and shatter.

"Why do you pull such a face?" She asked him.

"…You have tricked me," he accused her.

She giggled at him. "I have. But did I not need to show you how wrong you were?"

"…You had no such intentions," Blackwell said, and he knew it to be true. The creature before him was of a mind entirely different to his own. All the calculations, machinations, the instinct to point in a certain direction, she knew none of them. Traditional strategy could not do as she did. She countered it all entirely, the greatest of Generals, without a single ounce of intention. She did it all with such whimsy, such perfection, such ease, it was impossible to match.

"Maaaybeee," Claudia said, confirming it for Blackwell. There was a creature that just knew how to play. She was a white cat, impossible to capture, like a cloud. "Did you think that your place was only to protect?"

"…Why else was I given my strength?" Blackwell asked.

"Did you think that you could never rely on anyone?" Claudia asked.

"How could I take charge of my House if I did?" Blackwell said.

"Do any know how far your influence already extends? Do they know that you shoulder the responsibility truly of a Lord?" Claudia asked.

"How could I tell them? If they knew my father's mind had been broken for years, and that my mother was broken by it as well, and that there was no one to take command but I, would they not have crushed my House long before now?" Blackwell said.

"Your older brother, your older sister, they could have done it in your place," Claudia said.

"Perhaps," Blackwell said.

"But they surrendered to you, Lord Blackwell," Claudia said. "A brother younger than themselves. They see something in you that you doubt in yourself."

"…They are blind. It is an illusion. One I propagate," Blackwell said. "I am not so great a man. I cannot reach what I wish for. All these years I have tried, and am I still stuck… Now you reveal my weakness for what it is."

"How is that?" Claudia said.

"I should not find comfort or peace with you, like this. How am I meant to lead, when in quietness, such weakness exists?" Blackwell said.

"Do you call this weakness?" Claudia said, reaching down to push the hair out of his eyes. She tolerated his hand on her cheek as well, as he reached up, and dared to play with her silver locks. "Do you feel weak?"

"You have crushed me entirely. The strength that I believed in, you shattered so easily," Blackwell said.

"I have not robbed you of your strength," Claudia says. "I only offer you comfort, Lord Blackwell. For he that fights so valiantly. For he that places such a pressure on his heart. You have risen, and burdened yourself. One ought respect you for that."

But the look that Claudia had given Blackwell was the look of a mother seeing through the whimsies of a child. Perhaps she might have been honest in saying she respected it – but it was not a man's respect. It did not come even close to overpowering her. She saw it, as though with amusement, and that crushed Blackwell just as much. It made all his struggling seem that much smaller.

"…How can I carry myself as a man, knowing that I required this from you?" Blackwell said.

"I tricked you into it, you said," Claudia reminded him with a teasing smile.

"And I who ought to hold, and protect, rather than be held, found comfort in it," Blackwell said. "I have made a mockery of myself. I am no beast for people to fear. I am a glass heart that they can stamp on, and throw away."

"You're a beautiful and valiant bear," Claudia said. "You will always have your fangs, dear Blackwell. But a bear alone does not rule the forest. Your destructiveness has only caused upset. You had bandied around, searching for more, and I have heard you call, and borne witness to your struggle."

"…And you come to tell me that my struggle is worthless," Blackwell said, his shoulders sagging. "You mean to tell me that what I have fought for has been meaningless."

The look on her face seemed to suggest as much. She was entirely distant from the gravity of it. Perhaps she could appreciate it, but it was only in the same way that a woman could appreciate a particularly cute cat. The cat was never close to overpowering her.

"No," Claudia said, shaking her head. "I do not mean to tell you that. You follow your heart, Lord Blackwell, and you are right to. But do not be so overcome by seriousness. No creature is without weakness. If I am to allow you more, I must be there to witness it. Are you fine with that? Your embarrassment in having your heart exposed, can you rebuild yourself?"