There was another laboured breath, unsure now, before he leaned back to his seat. His arms clutched tightly to his stomach in painful discomfort and the action took another shaky groan with it.

Without much will to do anything else, Hamae remained still where he was, chest rising up and down unnaturally shallow and caught between the occasional gasps that sounded oddly quiet.

Moonlight rested itself down onto everything inside the room through framework that decorated the space between inside and out with weeping florals- ones that had been chosen years ago with Hamaes strange hobbies in mind.

Light, feathery taps began sounding upon those same frames, and though it was unclear what exactly it had been, the noble became more alert and unconscious at the same time. Perhaps much too much at a time for his weary state as of recent.

When the air became tinged with a smell that of copper or impurities, Hamae lifted his blood-stained hand off of his side and eyed it just for a few seconds as if to confirm he was actually dying.

Knowingly or not, at some point, he had become too careless with his movements, and too blind to take note of any abnormalities within his body.

He quickly covered the wound again with the same hand that saved his absent- minded stupor and waited.

Not for the tapping to stop, because it was more like pleasant raindrops knocking at the wooden framed glass of the room that brung stability, if anything.

For someone to notice how the scratching of his quill had stopped- how it was replaced with breaths caught between oceans of unforgiving chastise. Which made his mind wander- for what?

Punishment for years of unrelenting dedication to reforming a country long devastated by fierce chains, or working tirelessly in the name of the people he swore so surely to keep safe?

The nobles head fell back with a forced sigh that sounded more guttural than the last, turning just enough to notice the small peony that had sat on his desk since the last of his knights visit.

A beautiful little thing, dainty enough to just about take up your palm, even if slightly frayed from its lack of roots.

It didn’t do anything- it didn’t sway nor did it flutter in a manner that would have caught Hamaes attention, but he still ended up looking at it; the most fragile thing in his sight, but it still tugged at his wound until it opened entirely, which sent another wave of aching to the deep of his stomach.

Despite himself, his difficult breaths became sobs, and that small peony dissolved into a blurred mix of pinkish shades before long.

Hamaes glassy exterior shattered with intangible force which, perhaps, wouldn’t have been enough to reap tears in any other case. However, now, it would be too straining to call for someone, to move, to give any kind of signal. The man was helpless, and he’d begun to realise just that.

He was helpless to a pitiful extent- from the tight shut of his watery eyes to his teeth that gritted in pain, helpless for the sake of some silly dream he’d envisioned. To think one noble could only do so much, this one was a fool.

In a desperate attempt to alert anyone, Hamae kicked the side of his desk and hunched over at the immediate throb in his side that followed; his wet cheek hit the desk and then made another loud sound that couldn’t be missed.

It didn’t matter to Hamae anymore- he might have even wanted nobody to hear it, so that he may die quietly. After all, it was more convenient.

His reputation wouldn’t suffer a stain such as the one that sullied the surface beneath his face, and nobody would know of this tragic display.

Another broken sob escaped his throat as the door on the opposite side of the room gently cracked open, letting warm light seep through.

The tapping seemed to have stopped.