Chapter 31: Chapter 30 – A Complex Relationship

Only a day had passed, but when Raviel closed the door of the villa behind him, he felt overcome with extreme weariness. The atrium was plunged into darkness, barely lit by the glow of the stars, but that left him unmoved. He no longer felt inhabited except by an immense emptiness. Footsteps echoed on the white stone, and Raviel looked up at Mel. They watched each other in silence, long enough for him to realize the extent of his concern. Long enough for her to see the extent of her distress.

“What happened?” She asked, wringing her hands nervously. You've been gone for hours… Severus held you back so long?”

“I went to see Lana.”

Raviel walked around the basin, and Mel started, perfectly aware that he was lying to her.

“You should go to bed. It's late,” he added, walking past her.

She nodded, unable to repress the sadness that invaded her. She had learned to listen to Raviel's silences, to decode each of his looks, the tiniest of his expressions. She knew he had taken refuge behind a wall, and that it was useless to try to extract any explanation from him now.

Raviel took refuge in his room with a heavy heart. He closed his eyes briefly, choked with remorse, and undid his toga. The cloth fell to the floor with a rustle, leaving him clad only in a thin tunic. Then he let himself slide slowly against a wall, his legs folded against his chest. Anger and disgust poured a bitter poison through his veins.

He bit his lip, and his fist hit the ground hard. He repeated the action a few times as if he hoped to exteriorize his rage like this.

“Raviel…”

He flinched when he heard Aster's footsteps echoing in his room.

“What do you want?” He replied, trying to control the tremors in his voice.

“You came back late ... I just want to know how you are …”

“I'm fine. You should go back to sleep.”

But Aster didn't listen to him and walked up to Raviel. He knelt down in front of him and looked straight at his eyes.

"Do you really think I was asleep? When I didn't know where you were? You should never have ordered me to stay here.”

Raviel turned his head away.

“Go back to bed, Aster. I need to be alone.”

“I'm sure if the positions had been reversed, you would stay.”

As Raviel didn't answer, Aster asked in a soft voice:

“Where were you?”

“At Lana’s.”

“I know that's a lie. Where were you?”

Raviel finally looked at him again, but Aster felt his heart grow heavy in his chest. The patrician’s gaze overflowed with immeasurable pain.

“At Helvia’s.”

Aster opened his mouth, but his answer got stuck in his throat.

Raviel leaned against a column, his knees still shaking. He lost himself in contemplation of the city in an attempt to dismiss his conversation with Severus from his mind. These discussions seemed to him absurd. Severus persisted. Raviel refused to give in. And in the end, only their clashing anger remained.

"Why don't you give him what he wants?"

Raviel barely quivered.

“You won’t understand.”

“It's true. To insist on suffering is something I don't understand.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t.”

Silence enveloped them for long minutes, only broken by the strangely distant sounds of the city.

“I've always admired you for that.”

“What? My obstinacy in wanting to suffer?” Raviel quipped.

“No. Your way of standing up for what you believe in.”

Raviel turned slightly to face her, looking impassive.

"What do you want, Helvia?"

“You.”

Her eyes shone with a glow that Raviel had rarely seen in them. Melancholy, mixed with a strange sweetness. Far from her usual mocking airs.

"Haven't you hurt me enough?" Raviel replied bitterly.

Raviel looked back at the city that stretched out before them.

“And today again,” he admitted softly. “Every time I see you, hear you, talk to you. Every time you use those I care about against me. You make me suffer, and I still hate you a little more.”

He closed his eyes as if to contain the pain that twisted his heart.

“If you ever had a little affection for me, stop.”

“I am far too selfish to let you go.”

"I left a long time ago," Raviel whispered.

Helvia approached him but left enough distance between them not to make Raviel uncomfortable.

“Have you left everything behind?”

Raviel didn't answer. It was obvious that was not the case. He still dragged behind him his suffering, born of what had torn them apart. Their relationship had never had any healthy basis, constantly oscillating between violence and anger, in the midst of which sometimes a touch of sweetness and affection was lost.

Raviel hated Helvia but sometimes found refuge in her arms. Beyond his rage, he had yielded to his heart, which asked only to be loved, even if it was only to be a simple chimera. Helvia had wanted to play, to assert her domination, but had fallen into her own trap when she realized that Raviel did not leave her indifferent. They had been lovers and confidants, but most often remained enemies. Helvia was the only one Raviel had accepted near him and had in return tried to use her influence to protect him from the patricians. Everything between them had never been anything but a pile of contradictions.

“Give me one night to prove to you that I still care about you.”

Helvia's words twirled through the air, slowly evaporating into Raviel's silence. Their embraces had been as gentle as they were violent. They had known how to make him moan as much as they had made him cry. They had reassured him as much as they had disgusted him. Today, Raviel was tired of struggling, tired of suffering. He felt like he was drowning all the time, but never managed to touch the surface for more than a few seconds.

He knew Helvia could provide him with this illusory comfort. And he knew that the regrets would devour him afterward. Helvia could have pressured him if she wanted to. She could have used the incident with Aster the day before to make Raviel give in. But she didn't.

Raviel turned to her. Their eyes locked, and he nodded slowly.

Raviel tightened the grip of his arms slightly around his legs. He had regretted the instant he had given in, and now only felt this intense feeling of disgust. Still and always. He hated himself for his weakness. He hated his body, which he would sometimes have dreamed of destroying if others hadn't taken care of it before him. All this for what? He felt no desire and had never had any need to have sex. So why had he given in? Maybe to feel like he’s not different from others. Probably to feel loved. He saw Aster’s gaze. Raviel was grateful that there was no judgment in his brown eyes, and tears welled up in his eyes.

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"I'm sorry," he muttered in a strangled voice.

Aster felt his heart twist violently in his chest. He was far from stupid. He understood perfectly what Raviel had done.

“You have no reason to apologize …”

Raviel inhaled weakly. Helvia had kept her word and hadn’t been violent. Then Raviel had fled. He suppressed a tremor.

“I have so many regrets, Aster.”

Aster looked at him sadly. Raviel constantly tried to appear strong and cared about others to the point of forgetting himself. Him and his broken soul. Early in life, he had been the victim of a mother determined to make him pay for his birth, and of a father who would have preferred his son to be someone else. He had suffered from the contempt of a caste that did not tolerate differences. But he held on anyway. He had tried to exist, to find a place in this society.

"Around the age of seventeen, the patricians perform a kind of military service," Raviel whispered. We spend several months in a field in the provinces to learn to fight as much as to command or use our Gifts. I…”

He struggled with his words, and Aster didn't interrupt him.

“The first few weeks were a nightmare. Everything was an opportunity for the others to humiliate me. Except for Helvia. She would just throw a few pikes at me, which I would respond to, and pin me down with her Gift when we had to fight, but she didn't go any further.

He leaned his head against the wall, staring into space. Aster sat down beside him without a sound.

“Then one evening she came to find me in my room. I told her to leave, but she stayed. We only chatted. She told me she understood my anger to some extent, and I insulted her,” he added with a nervous laugh. “How could she understand? She was the perfect heir to one of the greatest patrician families. She had the world at her feet.

Raviel let a few seconds pass, before continuing in a trembling voice:

“She came back the next day and every day that followed. She spoke to me, listened to me, even managed to make me smile, as much as to make me angry… And one day there was more.”

***

Raviel rested on the small table the reed pen that had allowed him to engrave words on the papyrus. He would arrange to send this letter to Lana the next day. Footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts, and he met Helvia's golden eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, before Raviel asked:

“What do you want?”

“How are you?” Helvia replied.

“Good.”

He was lying. The training fights that had taken place in the afternoon had been carnage. Usually, Raviel did particularly well with a sword in his hands. His father had taught him to fight at a very young age, which led him to acquire remarkable skills. The only ones against whom he found himself powerless due to their fearsome Gifts were Helvia, Titus, ​​and, to a lesser extent, Orphelia. Today he had fought Titus, and the latter ​​had been happy to put him down.

“Leave me alone, Helvia.”

But Helvia closed the distance between them and put her arms around Raviel's shoulders. The latter quivered. It was the first time that Helvia allowed herself such closeness with him.

"No, I won't leave you.”

“Why?” Raviel whispered in a trembling voice.

"Because I like you… Your personality won’t allow you to take the initiative even though I’ve been leaving you so many hints…”

Raviel let out a mirthless laugh.

"You'd be the first," he replied.

He got up abruptly, but Helvia took the opportunity to tighten her grip on his body.

“Patricians are fools,” she replied.

"Don't give me that. You won't hesitate for a moment to join them when your turn comes. You've already started,” Raviel added contemptuously.

“Maybe, but you're the only one I want to have in my arms. You know Titus confessed to me and I turned him down. You’re the only one I desire, Raviel.”

Raviel froze, and Helvia slid one of her hands down his chest, over the fabric of his tunic.

"I want you," she whispered in his ear.

"Don't do this to me," Raviel begged. “I won't be able to bear it.”

Helvia's fingers continued to caress the fabric, and Raviel shivered as they brushed his belly.

“Helvia… Please… The others already have enough reason to despise me… Don't do this to me…”

His voice grew more pleading. He knew that in this society sex was just another way to dominate, and Raviel knew he would never have the upper hand over Helvia.

“I take the Huntress as my witness and swear to you that I will never reveal anything about this relationship.”

“Helvia…”

Her lips brushed Raviel's neck, but Raviel pushed her away abruptly.

“Stop!”

Helvia gave him a strange look. Neither really sad nor really annoyed.

"Since when are you afraid of what other people think?"

Anger crept across Raviel's face.

“It has nothing to do with that!” he hissed.

“Oh really? Don't you want to forget for once? To abandon yourself in carnal pleasure?”

Helvia moved towards him again and put an arm behind his back to pull him against her. Her second hand rested gently on his face.

"Don't you want to feel loved?"

Raviel closed his eyes. He got lost in conflicting emotions, couldn't find a balance between fear, anger, and… something he couldn't put a name to. Helvia was right. His heart was crying out for a truce, but his mind was screaming that he was about to make a mistake.

He slammed his lips hard against Helvia's, and his fingers held the back of her neck firmly in place. But Helvia did not flinch, and instead responded to the kiss with ardor. She slowly dragged Raviel to the bed, and Raviel let himself go, laying there without their lips leaving each other. The sheets crumpled under the weight of their bodies pressing together.

Helvia slid her fingers down Raviel's thigh, savoring the touch of his soft skin. Raviel felt nothing more than what was a light caress, but in response, he reached under Helvia's tunic and brushed her generous breast. He abruptly broke off the kiss in surprise. Beneath his fingers, he felt the same marks that adorned his skin. A glimmer of sadness darkens Helvia’s eyes.

"Appearances are deceiving, aren't they?" She asked bitterly. “Who would think that the so perfect Helvia is beaten by her father? We are alike in some ways, you and I,” she added more gently.

Raviel was silent, and Helvia took the opportunity to kiss him, showing more tenderness.

Raviel roughed up the fabric of her tunic. That night always left him with a bitter taste. Helvia had managed to make him forget, a little, but when she had returned to his room, she had created a gaping void in Raviel's chest. Like all the nights that followed and saw them come together. Time passed, and Raviel learned to hate himself, as much as he hated Helvia, without managing to prevent himself from liking the sweetness that she could show.

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