As the months passed, something inside me began to change.
Aline was no longer the sun that lit up my days - and perhaps she never had been. My infatuation with her slowly faded, like a forgotten candle in an empty room. It wasn't that she had changed... maybe I had just started to see more clearly.
She wasn't as beautiful as I thought at first. Perhaps I was blinded by desire, need and hope. Her face, once charming, now seemed ordinary. Her voice, once soft, now sounded cold. And what was worse - she mocked the peasants, treated the merchants' children as if they were inferior, as if only she deserved respect.
It ate me up inside.
She never put any effort into anything. She watched the boys practicing with wooden swords on the fencing field, laughing at their shortcomings and praising the muscles of the strongest. But never, at any time, did he wield a sword. He never joined in the training. Nor did he show any interest in his studies. It was as if she was only there to be seen - to be admired - not to learn, not to grow.
And I wondered: (why? Why was she there at all?)
The closer I got to her, the further I moved away from the image I had built up in my mind. Every conversation brought me a new disappointment. Every gesture revealed a trait that hurt me.
Until, one day, I just couldn't do it anymore.
I was about to answer her homework - again - when my fingers stopped on the paper. I sighed deeply, like someone releasing a weight from their chest. Silently, I stood up, picked up the papers and left the room. The math teacher watched me go by. For a moment, I noticed a slight smile on his lips.
"That's early." he muttered, as if he already knew what I was doing.
But I didn't hear. Or maybe I did and chose to ignore it.
I headed for the training yard. I needed to breathe, to think, to find myself again.
Halfway there, still in the corridor, I heard voices. Two girls were talking on the other side of the wall. I reflexively hid - I didn't want to interrupt, I just didn't expect to hear my name.
"Is that guy still chasing you?" said one of them, the daughter of one of the shopkeepers. "He seems so cute. Why don't you give him a chance?"
"Oh, I don't know..." replied Aline. And I'd recognize that voice anywhere. "I don't see him as a man, you know? He's more like... a puppy. Hehe. He never trains with a sword, nor does he look manly. Have you seen his skin? He looks sick or whatever."
My chest tightened.
"Yes! I've never seen someone with such black hair and eyes..." said the other. "He looks like a corpse."
"That's what my father said too." Aline continued, laughing. "I don't want a sick, weak man. He's good enough to be my servant, to do my chores... but to marry him? No. Theodore is much better, he's almost become a preparatory warrior."
The words cut deep. I just stood there. My back against the cold wall, my eyes fixed on nothing. For a second, I wanted to disappear. Run away. Fade away.
But I didn't.
That wasn't how the story was going to end.
Because in that instant, something inside me burned. A different kind of fire. Painful. But alive.
And maybe that's where it would all really begin.
Gathering up all the courage I had left, I approached. My hearing was acute - I could hear the girls talking thirty meters away. They didn't notice me. I stood there, motionless, absorbing every word.
What I heard was like a blow. Each laugh, each comment, penetrating my chest like sharp blades. Aline spoke of me cruelly, without the slightest consideration.
When I finally made myself visible, they both stopped abruptly. Their smiles were quick, forced - as if they knew there was no turning back. They tried to disguise it, but their sincerity was buried there, in that corridor.
"Hey, are you finished? It was quick this time." Aline said, with her usual fake tone, approaching with an air of familiarity that made me want to back away, but I stood my ground.
I just wanted to explode. Punch her in the stomach, scream. But I controlled myself. I took a deep breath and decided to be direct. No beating around the bush.
"I won't do it anymore." My voice was colder than I expected. "You can do it alone from now on."
She looked surprised for a moment, her eyes wide as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. And then came her question, an attempt to regain control of the situation, to manipulate me again.
"What? I... I thought you wanted me as your wife." She stammered, her expression frozen.
I almost lost my temper, but I remained calm, even though my chest was in pieces inside.
"I did." I spoke. The pain in my voice almost imperceptible.
"But I'm not interested anymore. I've done everything you've asked. I waited for your answer. But you didn't say "yes" or "no." And I don't want to wait any longer."
Those words came out with a frankness that surprised me, but at the same time, relieved a weight I didn't know I was carrying. The two girls remained silent, their expressions changing from surprise to discomfort.
"Well... I could think more... and give you an answer." Aline began, trying to regain control of the conversation. But I didn't want to listen anymore.
"I don't want to hear it anymore." I said firmly. The pain in my chest turning into something deeper, sharper. I knew what she thought of me now. The feeling of desolation consumed me. I never imagined that someone I loved so much would see me like that, with such contempt.
I handed Aline my notes, the gesture mechanical, almost emotionless. Then I turned my back and left, the feeling of relief mixed with poignant pain. I couldn't stand it any longer.
I left the room and went to the math teacher. He was there, waiting for me. My steps were heavy, and I didn't know how to hide the frustration and disgust that was eating me up inside. On the outside, I may have looked firm, but on the inside, I was devastated. I felt inadequate. I wasn't as attractive as I thought I was. My skin looked sickly, my hair too dark, as if there was something wrong with me.
I didn't know what to do with these thoughts. I just wanted to get out of that class, to leave it all behind.
"I want to take the exam to get into the senior class." I said, my voice a little grumpy but determined.
I was the tallest in the class, always had been. Since becoming a commander, my body had developed steadily. I was already taller than my colleagues, and something inside me told me that I needed to take that next step, even if, deep down, the reason was more to escape than to evolve.
I needed something new. Something that would take me away from the feeling of being overwhelmed by everything that had happened.
"I see. You passed." the teacher said dryly, scribbling something on a piece of parchment.
I remained silent, surprised.
"Hm? No exams?" I asked. A little confused.
"You already passed a month ago." He replied, raising his eyes at me. "You lost a month's progress because of a girl. Was it worth it? What did you learn from it?"
His tone was full of amusement, as if he knew exactly what I was feeling. I hesitated, the weight of the conversation crushing me. I tried to gather my words, but what was bothering me the most was right there in front of me.
I took a deep breath and, for a moment, my eyes filled with tears. One of them fell slowly, sliding down my cheek.
"I've learned... to prioritize my own needs and do what I have to do." I began, my voice breaking.
"I can't force anyone to like me. Chasing after someone like a shadow. Doing favors. Seeking approval... that only makes me look down on them."
The sadness was so strong that I almost couldn't finish. I could barely control my words.
"She... she didn't even see me as a man." I said, the pain showing in every syllable.
"After so much effort, it was humiliating. I'll never go through that again. Never again."
I crossed my arms, trying to look firmer than I really was. The feeling of failure was overwhelming, but I didn't want him to see my weakness. I at least tried to keep my composure.
The teacher looked at me for a moment, his eyes softer than I had expected. Perhaps he could see that, somehow, I was learning from it.
"Well. Go home and take a week off." He said, handing me a piece of parchment. It seemed that he had been waiting for this reaction for some time.
I took the parchment with a nod, my mind clouded with all the emotions that were consuming me. I left the room with slow steps, each one echoing in the silent corridor.
The teacher then let out a low chuckle, almost a sigh, as I walked away.
"At least he's correctable." He muttered to himself.
Those words stayed with me. Part of me wondered if that was a compliment, but the other part felt that what he really meant was that if I wasn't able to learn from my mistakes, my life would be easier. As if I were just another person who couldn't cope with pain and hardship.
I knew I couldn't be that kind of person.