"Roderich."
 Her voice, heavy with pain, pulled down by the agony of what must be done. It quivered as every word slipped passed cracked lips.
 "Kérem*, I cannot do this anymore. I do not want to fight you. Let me go."
Elizabeta stood on shaking legs, her sharp emerald hues glistening with tears like grass of a fresh morning. A morning meant to usher in new beginnings, a new day to experience as yesterday was left behind. She needed her morning to come.

Independence.

"We lived so peacefully together, I thought you were happy."

"I was, Roderich. But I can't be a servant any longer. My people want freedom."

Where once stood a pretty young woman, adorned in flowers and loving smiles, there now stood a shell. Something empty, shaking with a musket clenched between it's gloved hands. The military uniform was a dull shade of green, sticking out harshly against the crumbling walls of the house around them. She no longer belonged here. A quivering breath escaped her as she sunk to her knees. Strength was her only asset, but asking to raise a weapon to someone once so dear to her, someone she once called a husband, even if under the most political terms. It was impossible.

All she could see was that little boy she used to bully in the fields when they were children. The little boy she picked on because everyone else was too big to fight. It seemed she hadn't grown out of being that bully after all. The smell of blood still stung at her nostrils. It was a moment before she could realize it was her own.

Now on the ground before him, she'd rubbed her glove to her face, swiping a crimson streak across her cheeks. Her gaze dared to travel up to look at him, and he only stared at her. There was no anger there, but she almosted wished there was. It was only

Betrayal.

"Szeretlek. Mindig szeretni foglak.**"

A whisper, a faint attempt to soften the blow those eyes stabbed into her chest. Her freedom was so close, yet the shackle she'd put on herself remained firmly around her neck. How badly she wished they were just common folk. Just the couples on the bank of the river, exchanging gentle touches and whispers as the sun cast its long shadows around them.
How badly she wanted to hear him play that piano again. To sit beside him.

But things change. People change. Worlds change.

This was once their home. But now it was merely a house occupied with ghosts of a past that could never return.
The sounds of battle raged outside, just beyond them.

"What would your soldiers think to see you like this, Eliza? You want your independence? Fight for it."

His words weren't laced with malice, nor were they of encouragement. He almost sounded....tired. A proud man sat beside the toppled piano, glasses askewed and brow furrowed in a mirky broth of emotions.

"Du hast mich nie enttäuscht. Fangen Sie jetzt nicht damit an.***"

Roderich sat up a bit straighter as he spoke, but made no move to comfort the shaking country before him. After a moment of hesitation, a hand came to cover the one that still clutched the musket.

"Elizabeta...go."

Two words, whispered hardly above the din of gunshots. Eliza dropped the gun and fell into his arms, where she was met with little resistance. They sat there, intertwined, clutched together as if to keep one another safe.

After a long moment, she spoke, voice hoarse.

"Hiányozni fogtok..."

~~Translations!~~

* Please
** I love you. I will always love you
***You've never disappointed me. Do not start now