Chloe acknowledged this softly, already familiar with parts of his backstory. Lloyd’s parents had tragically died when he was young, and before he could find refuge in a state-run orphanage, he’d been abducted and taken to a facility that had been known only as the “Institute for the Development of Party Operatives.” Despite its vague-sounding name, it had been a facility run by radical ultranationalists who aimed to overthrow the monarchy. Here, Lloyd had been subjected to indoctrination with other orphans, forced to survive lethal trials in the jungle, battle ferocious creatures, and engage in deadly duels.
Taking a deep breath, Lloyd braced himself to reveal the part of his story unknown to Chloe. “In that place, there was someone who showed me kindness. She could not have been more than five years older than me, but she was a mentor to me, of sorts. Somehow she’d found compassion where all the others had been left broken and desensitized by the brutality of it all.”
Lloyd’s voice trembled slightly, tinged with a mixture of fondness and sorrow. “Looking back, I realize I idolized her in my own childlike way. I was one of the youngest there, and she always looked out for me. She was a beacon of hope in that dark place. Without her, I’m not sure I could have endured those horrific days.”
Lloyd’s words hung heavy in the air, the fondness in his voice now replaced by a sobering chill. “At the facility, there was only one way to be recognized as a true warrior for the cause: a death match. You and one of your peers go to the pit; only one gets to leave.”
Chloe swallowed, at a loss for words at the cruelty he was describing.
“The fact that I’m here next to you now is proof that I won my death match, and that I have killed. My opponent that day...was her.” Lloyd’s fists clenched tightly, his face twisted in anguish. “I was the most talented swordsman of my cohort. None of the children my age proved an equal match, so I ended up fighting her.” Lloyd closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he mustered the courage to continue. “She was far superior in skill and experience. In training, she’d always had the upper hand. I fully expected to die in the pit. But somehow, I didn’t.” Lloyd’s voice was strained, a quiet whisper in the darkness. “I killed her, Chloe.”
Chloe didn’t dare to speak. A moment later, Lloyd’s voice resurfaced, a tenuous thread of sound. “That day, something inside me broke. I became indestructible—unfeeling, as you put it. All my emotions deserted me, and all that was left was the ruthless warrior they desired. It’s ironic,” he added bitterly. “These hands are tainted with blood. I’m a murderer. How can I possibly deserve happiness, love, or be loved? Tell me, how does that—!”
His words were cut short. Chloe’s arms enveloped him, pulling him into her warm embrace.
“Chloe?” Lloyd’s voice was laced with surprise and confusion.
As Chloe held Lloyd, his head resting in her arms, she struggled to find her voice, choked with overwhelming emotion. “Th-Thank you...for trusting me with this,” she managed to say. Words seemed inadequate to express the depth of her grief, her heart aching for Lloyd’s harrowing past.
Lloyd, perplexed and concerned by her reaction, asked gently, “Chloe, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head, unable to articulate the turmoil inside her. Lloyd’s revelation had torn through her heart, unleashing a torrent of emotions that battered the hull of her being. All she could do was hold him close, trying to offer some solace in the face of his profound grief.
She recalled a past moment in the park, after Freddy’s dinner party, when Lloyd had first opened up about his past. But the intensity of her emotions now paled in comparison to what she felt then. “I wish I could do more to help,” Chloe whispered through pursed lips. “But I feel so helpless.”
Lloyd looked into her side, his own softening as he realized the depth of her compassion. “No, Chloe, you’re doing everything I need,” he reassured her, leaning into her embrace.
A while later, when the squall in Chloe’s heart began to calm, Lloyd spoke again, still firmly in Chloe’s arms. “I don’t understand, even to this day—why she let me win,” he confessed. “From the first time our swords met in that duel, I could tell she was holding back. She could’ve easily cut me down and lived, but she didn’t. You know what her last words were? They were ‘I’m so glad.’ So glad for what, I—”
Chloe felt a sudden clarity, her intuition speaking louder than her logic, and she interrupted Lloyd. “She lost to you on purpose.”
Lloyd breathed quietly, letting Chloe’s words settle. “How could you possibly know?”
“I...don’t,” Chloe admitted. “I wasn’t there. I can’t claim to understand the life you’ve led or the kind of person she was. But, somehow, I believe she was glad because you won. She wanted you to survive, to have a life beyond that place.”
“But why...?”
“Because she loved you.”
Lloyd felt his chest constrict.
“At least, that’s what I think.”
A heavy silence fell between them, punctuated only by a soft, pained sob from Lloyd. “Did she...” His words were a mixture of realization and sorrow. He grasped Chloe’s nightwear tightly, his tears soaking into the fabric. “Of course... Of course she did...”
The floodgates finally opened, and he wept, his body shaking with each sob. Chloe felt his pain, his regret, his loss—all pouring out in a torrent of tears. She held him close. For Chloe, it was a heartrending, intimate moment, witnessing Lloyd allowing himself to fully feel and express the depth of his emotions for the first time.