"Boss, I...cough cough, me and... cough cough," the adjutant sneaked up to Dalton, he looked around, and then he stumbled and said vaguely, "Your Majesty should have gone in the morning A cemetery outside the city."
"oh."
Dalton leaned on the carved pillar, and responded calmly, as if he didn't listen to what the adjutant said at all.
"My God!" The adjutant was so anxious that he almost jumped, wishing he could shake his boss's pitifully poor romantic knowledge and love experience, "The cemetery outside the city!!! It's the cemetery outside the city! Boss, do you know? That who... that guy who doesn't make people happy when he dies is buried in the cemetery outside the city."
Dalton finally reacted, he rolled his eyelids and kicked over.
"Who told you to follow His Majesty?"
The adjutant was kicked and was stunned.
He almost wondered if the weird atmosphere in the palace since the Great Trial had put their boss's brains on edge—although it wasn't normal before. But things are still weird, Dalton likes His Majesty so much that he is willing to bet his life on it. During the naval battle on the Sea of Heaven, they all saw clearly that Dalton was standing beside the Queen with a gun in hand, never leaving her.
Everyone was quite pleased.
Their boss can't write love poems and doesn't understand romance, but the guards who don't care about life and death on the battlefield can leave a good impression on Her Majesty the Queen—at least offset those negative impressions.
As a result, Dalton became uncharacteristically silent after returning to the court, and rarely appeared in front of Her Majesty the Queen except when necessary.
What makes them gasp in pain is, look! ! ! Heinrich, the guy who had an affair with His Majesty, was thrown into Wyhall Prison, and the time has come for his rival to die without a place to bury him. When it was time to push hard, Dalton actually remained silent.
It was so uncharacteristically so that one almost doubted whether he didn't like His Majesty anymore.
If you don't like it, then don't like it, and that's okay.
But as the marshal of the empire, leaning on the stone wall of the palace corridor every night, it's almost like standing guard for the queen himself, so what's the matter
The adjutant took a sneak peek at Dalton at that time.
In their impression, Dalton has always been like a knife or a gun, like all the fierce and indestructible things, leaning against the stone wall in the dark night, his face hidden in the flickering light of the torch on the wall. Tilting his head slightly, the focus of his gaze fell on the darkness, and the undulating lines of his cheekbones were as thin as a blade, but the blade was not exactly like others, but rather like Dalton himself.
Just standing there for a long time, as if I want to see the queen, but I don't seem to see the queen.
When the morning mist was about to rise, he pulled his hanging coat and walked away without saying a word.
A group of musketeers who have followed Dalton for the longest time met in private, studied and studied for several days, thinking about the situation of their boss, so as to decide how they should survive in front of the boss. It's better to be more sensible and shut up without saying a word.
The adjutant wished he could go back in time and slap himself that day.
Make you proud, let you say that you have a fiancée all day long, let you be the most experienced playboy when you are hugged by those guys with bad stomachs... Sometimes you want to enjoy your companions There is always a price to pay for your respect.
So, now he has to bite the bullet again to give their boss the right direction...
To tell the truth, if Dalton hadn't been their boss, the Adjutant would have jumped up and poured out his real thoughts—please! Boss! You are chasing a girl, what dignity and pride do you want, leaning against the stone wall in the middle of the night can let the girl know how much you like her mother through the rock? Just dream, at most, when your sweetheart walks into the church holding someone else's arm, you change places and continue to lean against the stone wall and listen to the pipe organ being played, without even a chance to elope...
etc.
The adjutant suddenly woke up. Dalton had already leaned against the wall and listened to the organ of His Majesty's engagement ceremony...
All of a sudden, the adjutant was so full of experience that he couldn't talk about it.
"Go to work."
Dalton glanced at the adjutant, cold and sharp.
The adjutant thought to himself that there was indeed a big accident, big trouble...
Although Dalton has his own mansion, he rarely lives in his own mansion. He used to stay in the barracks almost all day long. The nobles trembled in fear of him, and the ladies of the nobles thought Dalton was a cold war machine that shot people to death at the slightest disagreement. But in fact, the kind of war machine that Dalton and the others are talking about.
When he was in the barracks he drank with the musketeers and listened to their bragging and farting by the fire. In the past, they also made a lot of noise in private about Dalton's liking for Her Majesty, giving Dalton bad ideas all day long. While wiping the gun, Dalton kept a cold face, as if he didn't bother to pay attention.
But if Dalton really forbids it, even if they borrow three courage from them, they wouldn't dare to talk nonsense in front of Dalton.
Dalton wiped the gun at that time, although his movements were still careful and serious, but the focus of his eyes did not know where to fall. He was clearly listening to their nonsense and acquiesced angrily-in private, they also said that the boss is pure Just trying to save face, always making His Majesty angry and not ashamed to ask others what to do.
This time, he actually warned them not to talk too much.
The adjutant shut his mouth obediently and turned to leave.
He raised his foot halfway, then stopped again.
"Oh, boss." The adjutant didn't have the guts to turn around, but said dryly, "But if you don't do anything, you have no chance."
Just like he could obviously take away the girl with little freckles on her cheeks. She has cornflower-like blue eyes, and when she looks at him with a lily crown, her eyes sparkle like sparkling river water. He liked her so much, because of that, he liked to crawl in the mud... But he didn't hold her hand, and didn't take her away.
He didn't do anything, and in the end he didn't get a chance to do it.
……………
The adjutant dropped his words and fled in embarrassment.
Dalton didn't know whether he was afraid of being scolded, or because he was avoiding the girl with the lily crown he had said.
Leaning on the stone pillar, Dalton slowly fell silent.
He took his hands out of his pockets. Because of holding a gun all year round, there are thick calluses on the tiger's mouth and palms, which don't look like a pair of hands suitable for holding a rose. But there happened to be a golden rose lying in his palm. Dalton looked down at the badge that burned over his shoulder and heart.
The gorgeous and expensive marshal's coat was casually draped over the black-haired officer's shoulders. In the sun, the gold and silver threads and pearls on the coat shone dazzlingly. His eyelashes are actually very long, and the shadows they cast when they hang down cover those usual unruliness and hostility. His thin, light-colored lips are slightly depressed, and his gaze and expression are vaguely like a stray wolf. Looking down on the rock, he looked down at something that he wanted to throw away, and he couldn't bear to throw it away.
The adjutant and those restless guys quarreled every day, saying that he didn't know how to like girls, how to chase after his sweetheart, and recently he was clamoring that he missed a good opportunity and didn't know how to make trouble.
Dalton didn't even have the strength to twitch the corners of his mouth and show a mocking sneer.
He has always felt that it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter if the queen doesn't like him, it doesn't matter if the queen treats him as a pawn that can be used. Anyway, he is such an ambitious, greedy and never-ending thing, who doesn't know what is good or bad. Give him a shadow, and he can indulge his greed and keep chasing.
Just like him for so many years, chasing a phantom from a poor boy to a glorious nobleman.
Until he clearly saw that Heinrich and her eyes met in mid-air, as if the world had disappeared, and the holy miracle that had been suspended for three days had become the background for them to comment on each other. Then, the picture that he has always ignored suddenly flashed through his mind... On the night of the mutiny, she stood by the Baihe River and turned her head surrounded by soldiers, while Heinrich stood on the other side of the river. There are so many lights and shadows of many people, but their eyes can meet together without any deviation.
The gun suddenly became extremely heavy, and he stood on the deck full of corpses and blood, almost firing that shot at Heinrich who sank into the sea.
Fuck it doesn't matter.
There's so much past between her and another person that he's never been able to get involved. Whether it is love or hate, those pasts have overlapped their fate and breath early on, and he is just a latecomer who is overwhelmed. After reading a few words about them, I feel that this is nothing more than that, and I feel that it is not impossible to do my best.
But the truth is, he didn't even have the chance to chase the phantom,
He was so jealous that he wanted to go crazy, and wanted to make up for that shot regardless.
The funny thing is that in the end he just let the gun hang in his hands extremely heavy, without moving or speaking. Because he was afraid that with that shot, she would not even have the chance to make him deceive himself.
What dignity and pride, he has long since lost.
Dalton didn't know if he fell in love with someone, whether everyone would become sharp without a teacher.
So many people think that Heinrich's trial, the queen's silence is indifference, and her kindness has been exhausted. Only in those days when the queen was silent, he could feel his blood congealed day after day, and he became more jealous day by day—clearly knowing that it was not indifference, but an emotion so condensed that he could not express it.
Love and hate are intertwined, so strong that people are jealous.
During those nights leaning against the corridor wall, he thought a lot, not knowing what to do with himself.
What's the use of him getting into trouble, she doesn't need anyone to intervene in her past grievances with another person, and she doesn't need him.
He used to wear the badge of the rose of gold and feel like he'd finally snatched something, and he'd been so proud of it for so long. He was happy that the vines under her name would have his name when the vines spread out, and he was happy for such a little thing that was faintly visible, or even not at all his own, and a silent joy arose in his concealment.
But what he has is just that.
And Heinrich was everywhere in her life.
He almost wanted to throw this golden rose to a place where he would never see it again, and he almost wanted to hold on to it, like grabbing the last hopeless straw.
"Why are you asking for trouble so much?"
Dalton asked himself softly, following a woman who couldn't possibly like him like a running dog, knowing that missing her past would mean losing hope of her future, what is it not stupid? Normal people know to give up.
He closed his eyes and held the rose badge tightly, as if he wanted to grasp the hand that she wore the badge for him again that day through the metal.
he just...
Not reconciled.