Internment

Chapter 8

HAPPY 2022!! To kick off the new year, I finally made myself sit down and write for the first time in almost five months! This chapter is on the shorter side, but I didn't want to delay an update any longer so here you go - Chapter 8! I hope you guys like it ... I'm so excited to get back into writing!

"What do you think?"

The question had come seconds after Reyna had turned over the final page of Pride and Prejudice. She looked up, closing the book with a soft thud. Phillip's gaze was on her expectantly, the faintest hint of anticipation peaking through the bright blue of his eyes.

"It was wonderful," She nodded with a smile, placing the book on the edge of his desk. It had taken her less than a week to finish the four hundred pages, pausing only for a few minutes of conversation with Phillip at the end of the evenings they spent together. "I like Elizabeth."

"I thought you might," Phillip smiled. "And Darcy?"

"Not so much," She pursed her lips.

"Why's that?" He asked, leaning over his desk on propped elbows.

"The two are so starkly different," She shook her head.

"I'd disagree," Phillip smirked.

"Elizabeth has integrity," She began her argument but was cut off.

"She's prideful," He interjected matter-of-factly.

"In the face of prejudice, sometimes all a person has left is their pride," She argued. She hadn't expected to feel such a kindred connection with Elizabeth, but she did.

"So you think Darcy is prejudice." It hadn't been a question, but rather a statement.

"And arrogant," She added.

"One could say the same for Elizabeth," Phillip's smirk returned.

"How so?"

"She judged Darcy solely on a poor first impression, and her preconceived notions of the upper class," He shrugged.

"Her notions of the upper class were preconceived for a reason," She cocked an eyebrow.

"True ... But there's usually more to a person than the social constructs that bind them," Phillip began. "Take me for example ... I'm sure you have some ideas of your own about who I am ... Ideas you could conceive solely by what I'm wearing," He gestured to his uniform. "And you would be justified in those ideas ... But I doubt, upon first impressions, the thought of sitting across from me while we discuss Jane Austen ever crossed your mind."

"No ... It certainly didn't," She shook her head, a small smile curving on her lips, followed by the faint crimson of a blush creeping up her neck when she met Phillip's eyes. "So the title is intended to cut both ways," She looked away, quickly changing the subject. "Elizabeth and Darcy are both guilty of pride and prejudice."

"I think the two are synonymous in a lot of ways," He said.

"I suppose you can't have one without the other."

"Were you pleased with the ending?" He pressed on without missing a beat.

"It was certainly satisfying," She nodded. "Not very realistic though."

"How that?"

"I just don't think a match like Darcy and Elizabeth would happen in real life," She shrugged.

"You don't think love can exist independently from society norms?" He cocked a curious eyebrow. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he was patronizing her. The question had been genuine though. She thought about it for a moment. The romanticized idea of love conquering all had been a concept she'd believed in once upon a time. The war and the subsequent turmoil it had thrown the world into had all but dissolved that belief though.

"Only if the two people can escape the warping effect of those norms," She answered finally. "People are too quick to accept their inevitability though."

"That's a dismal thought," He commented.

"Maybe ... But it's a realistic one," She said matter-of-factly. "If Darcy's money had failed to convince Wickham to marry Lydia, would Darcy still've married Elizabeth? Would his transcendence of prejudice really've extended that far?"

"I like to think it would have," He nodded. "Fiction is a mirror into reality after all."

"I think it's more of an aspiration than a mirror ... A picture of what we wish the world to be." She locked eyes with him. He was looking back at her with an expression she couldn't quite place. Was it ... thoughtfulness ... sadness? "Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked when the silence had finally become too uncomfortable. He shook his head slightly, as if snapping himself out of a trance.

"You just remind me of someone," He said, the smallest of smiles turning up the corners of his mouth. "She was a realist like you."

She glanced away, the warmth of a blush creeping up her neck for the second time that night. A knock sounded at the door, shattering the silence that had enveloped the room again. She glanced at the clock on the adjacent wall - ten o'clock - Luca had arrived right on cue to escort her back to the barracks.

Phillip cleared his throat. "Come in."

The door creaked open, confirming who'd been on the other side.

"Ready?" Luca asked, his eyes on Reyna, though the question had been directed to the Stubaf.

"Same time tomorrow?" Phillip asked her. She nodded, giving him a pleasant smile as she stood up.

"Same time tomorrow."

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Again, this chapter is much shorter than I would've liked, but I wanted to get you guys something! Let me know what you think! Thank you all for being so patient! <3