[ The more she speaks, the more Claude considers whether he's genuinely losing it at this moment in time. Not even the nightmares from the Singularity with his entity, his own personal horror on top of everything else, had felt this real. The voice he continues to hear is not Petra's, but - everything about it feels like Petra. But why can he not see her if that's the case? He says nothing to what he's told, just simply stares with his brow furrowed. He's no closer to finding an answer from even the short distance of standing on opposite sides of the room, and that's rapidly leaving only one way to be certain. ]
Because you don't look like Petra. You look like Edelgard. In... every way.
[ 'You' being a nebulous concept because he's still not sure who he's addressing and the thought of finding out makes him even uneasier. Without bothering to explain what he's doing - and with as much trust as he can muster if it is Edelgard - Claude leans over to the nearby side table to set his keys down. They're followed by the dagger tucked in his sash and then the one from his boot, a small pile of whatever he was armed with left behind as he now takes deliberately slow steps forward to telegraph exactly what he's doing. ]
Do me a favor and don't move, will you?
[ Claude's careful to not make any sudden moves besides raising a hand when he comes to a stop. He reaches for the edge of the crown, fully expecting the solid metal of the horns to meet his fingers. But instead they pass straight through it, like nothing's there at all. Because there isn't, he realizes finally, and the illusion fades to leave behind who really was speaking to him all along: Petra.
Relief floods him as he lets out a mildly shaky exhale, and without thinking it through he pulls her in with a tight hug and a mumbled I'm sorry, but for what - Claude's not even sure. ]
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Because you don't look like Petra. You look like Edelgard. In... every way.
[ 'You' being a nebulous concept because he's still not sure who he's addressing and the thought of finding out makes him even uneasier. Without bothering to explain what he's doing - and with as much trust as he can muster if it is Edelgard - Claude leans over to the nearby side table to set his keys down. They're followed by the dagger tucked in his sash and then the one from his boot, a small pile of whatever he was armed with left behind as he now takes deliberately slow steps forward to telegraph exactly what he's doing. ]
Do me a favor and don't move, will you?
[ Claude's careful to not make any sudden moves besides raising a hand when he comes to a stop. He reaches for the edge of the crown, fully expecting the solid metal of the horns to meet his fingers. But instead they pass straight through it, like nothing's there at all. Because there isn't, he realizes finally, and the illusion fades to leave behind who really was speaking to him all along: Petra.
Relief floods him as he lets out a mildly shaky exhale, and without thinking it through he pulls her in with a tight hug and a mumbled I'm sorry, but for what - Claude's not even sure. ]