[ It's not what she's expecting. She's waiting for someone to tell her that she's weak, that she's afraid and she'll only ever amount to a coward. She's counting on it. And then theere's d'Artagnan, with his arm around her and his kind words. She feels her eyes water before she can stop them, before she can clamp down upon the feeling and bury it. Instead of looking at him she looks at the cup he's given her, her voice thick. ]
You don't hate me? [ Because she's not following orders, because she's fighting everything they tell her to be. ] I'm pretty sure I just outed myself as the weakest. That's not something to be proud of.
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You don't hate me? [ Because she's not following orders, because she's fighting everything they tell her to be. ] I'm pretty sure I just outed myself as the weakest. That's not something to be proud of.