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Victoria Rosanvallon

[1836/1837][EN] Ugh, you.

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She hated that he could decide when she had enough, that he could decide when to take her home and how and why. She hated that she could say no, but he'd still take her hand and he'd still bring her home as if she was not his wife, but his daughter, his immature daughter that just needed a stern hand and then she would behave. It wasn't entirely fair to put all that blame on Richard, it was simply the nature of the classic Victorian marriage, but Victoria had always been fond of taking things personally.

 

"Oh, you're sorry?" she huffed, as she threw her shawl somewhere in the general direction of the wardrobe, still standing in that quiet, dark hallway with just the hint of light far away. She couldn't make out his face, his expression, the only thing she could see of him was a silhouette, but she wouldn't have paid attention to the sincerity in his eyes anyway. "How wonderful, how you're always sorry after the act." She kicked off her shoes, leaving them in the middle of the hallway, and started towards the kitchen. 

 

"If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't do these things," she called, over her shoulder. 

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Yeah…. Richard wasn’t a fan of the classic Victorian marriage, either, but that was mostly because he wasn’t a fan of anything classic, he didn’t love Victorian, and he hated marriage. It wasn’t really a feminist statement – leaving aside the discussion of whether or not men could make feminist statements at all. It was a shame, because truth be told, he could have done very well with such a cause. He had the researcher’s mindset to question everything, and the rebellious streak that would lead to him accepting nothing. And he did not love the way women were treated, truth be told, when he was prompted to think about it, he didn’t like it at all. Because all in all it was unfair, it was unnecessary, and it was boring, because if you treated fifty percent of the population that way, you disqualified them completely from bringing any true addition to your life.

 

But with Victoria, (Ha, Victoria. Maybe that was where his aversion to all things Victorian was from?) things were a little different. Because she was an idiot. She wasn’t in control and shouldn’t be. And she had nothing to add whatsoever.

 

At least not to him… Not at all…

 

Because this wasn’t her, not just her it was actually mostly him and he was sorry. “What do you know about it,” he snapped at her, running a tired hand through his curls. “Have you ever regretted anything in your life? Or do you not have that depth of emotion within you? Too much formed by looking in the mirror?”

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Victoria knew she just ought to let it go, be the bigger person and turn her shoulder towards him, leaving him standing alone in the dark so that he could be as miserable as he wanted to be, but she never really could resist. It was as if he was an itch that she just needed to scratch, so right before she stepped into the kitchen, she turned around, eyes blazing. 

 

"Oh, there is one thing I regret," she snarled at him, putting her hands on her hips, "and that is that I married you!" If only she had had the guts to say no, that dreadful, dreadful day. But she hadn't. Marrying him had been the easy choice, if not the most horrible decision she had ever made. "You are just the most miserable, terrible person I could ever have been married to!" Honestly, anyone else would've been better! There had been so many other better men, with more money even, more connections and of course a much better personality, but here she was, stuck with him.

 

"At least the mirror is actually happy to see me," she pettily added. 

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