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A matter of honor

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It was a matter of honor. He fired first and failed. The face of joy of his opponent contrasted with the grimace of despair that reflected his features. As the Napoleon adviser, he should be far from here, at Versailles, waiting to be received by the Emperor.

In an instant, his mind remembered the events that had given rise to this duel. Nothing mattered anymore. He had never wanted his wife. It was a marriage of conveniences, and now he was obliged to defending his honor, and he was about to lose his life.

But at that moment he saw his wife with other eyes. His tenderness, the love that always expressed his children, her disposition to understand everything. And also the absence of affection on his part, his abandonment. In a way, he found himself guilty of many things.

At last, the opponent fired his weapon. He heard the sound of the projectile and then something black covered his eyes, something that prevented him from seeing in his imagination to his family, to his wife. And everything stopped.

 

 

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